Page 64 of Out of the Shadow

“An expansive box on the ocean,” I correct.

“Still a box. You can show it to your clients. I’m not going to.” She follows the same path Poppy took, crosses through the house, and strides out of the front door.

I meet up with Angie in front of the town car the studio got for us. Her hand’s on the handle. “Wait up. Want to ride back with me?”

Angie’s shoulders reach her ears. “No, I’m good. See you later.” And she slips inside.

If I hadn’t driven my car here, I’d be in the backseat with her, talking about the tour today. Honestly, I didn’t see anything wrong with the house, and its location is perfect. With a few minor cosmetic changes, almost anyone in the country would die to live here. I know she doesn’t get along with Poppy, but there’s something more going on here.

The driver turns on the ignition and I head over toward my car. Kaitlyn catches my attention. “Great job, King. I loved the interplay among you three. You really got Angie going.”

“Thanks.” I hope it didn’t do too much damage. I hop in my car and take my time driving back to the office. I suppose I could just go home, but I want to spend more time studying the MLS listings.

Alright, who am I kidding? I want to get Angie naked again.

When I enter the office, she’s already standing next to her desk moving papers around on it. I head directly to her since we’re the only two people in here. “Hated the place, huh?”

She stops what she’s doing and plops down into her chair. “Not exactly.”

I scoot around to the front corner of her desk and rest my ass against it. “Then what exactly?”

She sighs, all her bluster dissipating. “That was the Lloyd house. I recognized the address.”

My hands raise in the universal “so what” gesture. “Do I know the Lloyds?”

She tosses her pen onto the desk. “No. But I do. I pitched for that house.”

Everything clicks into place—her instant dislike of the property, the open antagonism with Poppy.Crap. “Hey, I’m sorry you lost the listing.”

She nods. “Thanks.” Her hand reaches up and tugs on the end of her hair. “But I did mean what I said. Furniture groupings aren’t enough to define the space. It’s like a loft but a house. I feel like it’s kind of jarring.”

I tilt my head. “I see what you’re saying, but I believe it was designed that way to get the most out of the view from all vantage points.”

“You’re probably right.” She sighs. “I hate that woman.”

Now we’re getting down to it. “I know. But think of it this way. How much would Poppy hate to have to split another broker’s fee with you if one of our clients buys that house? After the Maguires, and all.”

Angie laughs. “That would be funny, to be sure. But none of my clients have that kind of budget.”

I guess a million is high. But not really for out here. Her reaction brings me back to a suspicion I’ve been harboring. “What’s your clients’ average budget?”

She sits up and rights the mess she made on her desk. She whispers, “Five hundred to seven-fifty.”

I shake my head. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I’m the bottom of the barrel of Aroostook.” While that kind of money might buy someone a mansion outside of New York City or California, it’s barely enough for a condo in this town.

I knew she was struggling, but if her business is relying on clients with such low budgets for the area, she’s in more trouble than I thought. I bite the inside of my cheek. “How about you and I spend some time brainstorming new ways to bring in higher-end clients?”

Her expression bounces from surprise to determination. “Your percentage won’t go up, you know.”

I wink. “Wouldn’t dream of asking.” This woman has no idea what lengths I’d go to for her. “I’d like to see what sort of caché I can bring in.”

She tugs on the bottom of her hair. “I’m sure people will come for miles to get a glimpse oftheKing Hunte. But we can’t advertise your involvement in the firm until you have your license.”

Still, we don’t have to wait to change the agency’s social media platform. We spend the next couple of hours brainstorming. By concentrating our ad spend on buyers outside of the Hamptons, we decide, we can diminish Poppy’s power. She won’t have as much pull on people who’ve never heard of The Mayflower Agency.

Angie’s stomach rumbles and she places her hand over it.

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