Page 14 of Out of the Shadow

Even if I had the money—which I don’t—I’m not going to enable him any longer. Besides, he never responded to my text about repaying the loan from before Mexico, which could pay for Diego right now. Stopping at a traffic light, I bite my lip. “How about I think about it while you’re in rehab?”

“I said I was fine. You know what? This isn’t a big deal. We’ll talk later when you get that stick out of your ass.” He kills the call.

A few minutes later, I pull into the parking lot between the only other two cars in it, and shut off my convertible. I take some deep breaths to clear my head from my conversation with Trevor, then get out of the car.

Swinging the keys, I enter the agency and am greeted by the unflappable Marlene. “Hello, King. Let me show you to your desk.” The short, brown-haired woman walks around the receptionist desk and leads me to a desk by a window. Her face bears a slight resemblance to Angie, and I wonder if they’re related.

The office has an open floor plan with five desks, but no one’s around. “Are all the other agents out on appointments?”

She looks at me. “I’ll let Angie fill you in.” With that, she swivels on her heel and returns to the front.

Come to think about it, I’ve never seen any other people working here. Then again, I’ve only been here for meetings before the agency opens. Even if Angie herself is a ball-buster, maybe the other agents are cool.

I sit down at my desk and power up the computer. The welcome screen has the Russo Real Estate logo dancing across it. Nice touch. I hit “enter” and it asks for a password.

Since it’s just us in the office, I raise my voice. “Hey, Marlene, do you have the password so I can get into my computer?”

“It’s in the packet,” she calls back.

What packet? I look down and realize there’s a fat envelope with my name on it on the corner of my desk. I rip it open and skim through the contents. Policies and Procedures manual, a map of Aroostook, and a memo with info about the computer and other things. Picking up the memo, I enter my login credentials and then set up my profile.

Seeing as I’m still alone, I go on the internet and skim through all of the important news—The Gossipto confirm they don’t have any more dirt on me,People, and the rest of my favorite sites. Since I’ll be in the Hamptons for the next few months, I bookmark a couple of local news sites as well.

As I’m scoping out other area gyms, trying to select one for my next free trial, Angie’s voice rings out behind me. “I see you’re keeping busy.”

I jump in my chair. Where the hell did she come from? I swivel around and watch as Angie closes the gap between us, her eyes squinting. “Checking out gyms?”

“Gotta keep up my workouts. The cameras love…” My words die an undignified death when she puts both of her hands on top of my desk.

Leaning forward, she skewers me with her eyes. At first I thought they were plain old brown, but now I realize they’re shot through with a streak of khaki. Only now, they’re shooting daggers at me.

“Have you signed up for a real estate course yet?”

My right hand races across my stubble. Which I made sure was perfect before I left the house. Like always. “I figured I have time for that.”

Her right eyebrow raises. “It’s a seventy-five hour course, King. And you need to get through it as soon as possible since we start filming in two weeks, and you won’t have time then.”

“Today’s my first day,” I protest.

“And if you don’t want it also to be your last, I suggest you get signed up and start taking the course.” She pivots and heads to another desk situated two away from mine. Even though I’m closer to the windows, her desk is larger and slightly more prominent. Still, she’s the boss. Why doesn’t she have an office?

Setting that thought aside as irrelevant, I huff out an annoyed noise and do a Google search. I click on the first course that comes up. Sure enough, it’s seventy-five hours of torture, followed by a pre-test and then the real New York state test. What have I gotten myself into?

Throughout the afternoon, Angie and Marlene chat while I sit here solo by the window. No clients have come through the doors, and neither have any other agents. The phones are silent, too. I sort through the various courses, all of which are the required seventy-five hours. Prices range from four-hundred to a thousand bucks, with the more expensive classes offering additional services to justify their fees. Before everything went down with Dad, I wouldn’t have thought twice about choosing the most expensive one. If he hadn’t cut me off, no way in hell would I be taking this stupid test though.

I select the cheapest option and get all my credentials for the class that’s going to consume my life for the next week.

Angie walks over to my desk. “Did you sign up for a course yet?”

“Nagging much?”

“I was trying to be helpful. You can call it nagging if you want.” Hurt flashes through her eyes, there and then gone, and she turns away from my desk.

Feeling like an ass—after all, she isn’ttotallyresponsible for making me this miserable—I call out, “To answer your question, I just did.”

Angie returns to my desk. “Apology accepted.”

I didn’t realize I had apologized.I think it, but even I know better than to say it.

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