Page 6 of Contingently Yours
Is that a word?
“Of course, but he doesn’t go by Hepperly on the show,” I mutter in my defense.
“I’m supposed to go in for my hernia surgery at the end of next week,” Lou informs us. “I’ve been waiting months to get this done and can’t miss it. Vera will have my head if I do, but I canprobably help with the tail end of the viewings in a few weeks. I still need two agents to start them out on the front end, though. Andrew, maybe I can call someone from Bridges Real Estate to help you out until I recover, and then Lucas and I can handle the viewings on the second half of the trip.”
The commissions from these three sales will be extravagant, but Lou just dispensed some depressing math. Andrew and a Bridges Real Estate agent, and Lou and me? That’s a four-way cut. I know even a quarter of the commissions would likely solve all my financial problems, but with my luck, Andrew will try to finalize all three properties during the first week or two.
“No!” Andrew and I blurt in unison. My face blooms over my outburst. While being blunt might be common for my nemesis, it’s not for me, so I amend, “I can handle it,” but Andrew again says the same words that come out of my mouth.
I fume as we glare at each other. He doesn’t need this deal, at least not financially. He just wants to show off to his uncle, or maybe his family, from what Lou said earlier. Can he not be a selfish jerk just this once?
“These people were just shit on by our competitors. I know you’re both capable, but understand this—VeraLou is going to be part of their honeymoon. We need to pamper them and show them the love they didn’t get from Destination. I want us dining with them, swimming with them, asking them if they need their fucking pillows fluffed. It’s more than just showings. We’re going to get invited to their damn anniversary parties and kids’ birthdays by the time this is over. We’re not going to neglect them for a second, and guess what? You have to sleep sometime, so no matter how many sales either of you have made, you’re not going to be able to juggle all the travel, off-loading their luggage, getting them settled in the properties for the night, and kissing their asses at the same time. It’s just not possible for one person.”
Shit. He’s serious. I’ll hand it to him—it’s a good strategy for such a unique situation. We need to be like tour guides. Commission aside, the idea of hanging out with Dario Kealy for three to four weeks is also not an opportunity I want to pass up. How many people can say they got to do that? I never take vacations or do anything for recreation. I know this is technically work, but it’s the closest thing to having a good time I’ll have had for as long as I can remember.
For some reason, I glance at the sandy-haired jackass next to me. Probably because he’s surprisingly quiet. When I find him giving me the same wary expression, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach because I know what he’s thinking. Inhaling, his lips press into a firm line, but then he looks back at his uncle with a brighter expression.
“Lucas and I will do it.”
Wewhat?Did I just hear him correctly?
A trickle of hope filters through me, knowing thattwopeople equals fifty percent commission versus only a quarter, but…this is Andrew Broadhouse. I’d probably murder him before we even board the plane.
Lou is a sensible man because he scoffs at Andrew’s suggestion. He plops down in his chair, yanking open a drawer. Retrieving a bottle of antacid tablets, he levels a stern look at us. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid? You two haven’t even been able to be in the same room as each other since the Panama showing last year. You couldn’t even make it through the office door today without playing grab-ass. You’ll get our licensing privileges revoked in three countries by the end of the first week, not to mention embarrassing the shit out of me with the Hepperlys,” he rants, trying to pry the lid to his tablets open. “Not happening. We either come up with a plan to split it and take turns or ask them to prolong their trip until Hank is free and can go with one of you, which I’d rather not do. TheHepperlys only have so much free time between all three of their schedules, so we need to make this happen now.”
Crap. He’s right. If we ask them to hold off, they could go through agencies local to each of their destination choices,andwe’ll look bad for not being able to accommodate them. However, a twenty-five percent commission is still not a fifty percent commission. Maybe I can restrain myself from choking Andrew for enough money. My soldiering finally kicks in, reminding me to suck it up in the face of adversity.
“We can do it, Lou,” I agree, hoping I sound confident. “Andrew and I have…put our differences behind us.”
His weathered skin crinkles at the corners of his eyes as Andrew nods. I really hate deceiving the old man. He trusts me. I can tell he’s only considering it because I’m the one who assured him that no blood will be shed.
Popping an antacid tablet into his mouth, he crunches it silently as his gaze pings suspiciously between us. Andrew should really wipe that creepy smile off his mug right now. I’d trust that face about as much as I’d trust someone to wax my chest.
“Yeah? What about the doorway incident this morning?”
Andrew claps his hand on my shoulder and gives it a brotherly looking shake. I can feel his fingertips digging painfully into my muscles. “Just a game we like to play. All in good fun.” Turning his face toward me, he flashes that obnoxious smile. “Right, Lucas?”
Fifty percent. Fifty percent, I chant silently as his fingertips dig deeper into my shoulder.
“Right,” I concur, nodding to Lou.
Lou’s phone on his desk rings. Picking up the receiver, he’s silent for a moment as I hear the muffled sound of Vera’s voice on the other end, probably asking what she should do since she’s been left to entertain the Hepperlys in the other room.
“I’m working on it. Hang tight. I know. I know,” he grumbles. Slamming the phone down, he glances at the clock on his wall and grimaces. His gaze returns to us, pinging between the two of us. Except now I’m sporting the same fake smile Andrew is. I’ll feel guilty about that later. Sighing, his lips flatten as they press together. “Fine, but hear this—if you two fuck this up, I will personally tweeze out your nuts hair.”
Ouch. That’s…specific.
I nod, though, because apparently, I’m willing to lose my nut hair for my baby sisters’ happiness. Andrew slaps his palms together and pops out of his chair. “You’re my favorite uncle, you know that?”
“I’m your only uncle,” Lou mutters, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyelids.
Andrew doesn’t wait, heading for the door with hurried steps like a vulture with its eye on a fresh carcass. I scramble out of my seat and utter my gratitude to Lou for trusting me. He nods, but looks wary as he glances at his nephew’s retreating back. I take pride in knowing that means he might have more faith in my professionalism than Andrew’s, but how sad is it that I have to be the more responsible of the two of us when I’m not the one who’s his own kin?
I catch up to Andrew halfway across the lobby, but he doesn’t slow down. Holding my arm out in front of him, I side-step into his path to the conference room door.
“Hold up. We can’t just waltz in there. We need a game plan.”
“I don’t need a game plan. I’ve got this.”
