Page 10 of Upshot

“You're getting that look in your eye,” Peter says.

“What look?”

“The one you get right after someone says they’re not interested in selling.” My specialty is uninterested sellers. I haven’t had to walk away from a property we wanted yet. I wasn’t aware I had a “look” though. “Okay, I just texted your sister to meet us here.”

“Damn, Pete. You could have given me at least two seconds to come up with an angle.”

“Nah, you’re best under pressure.” He grins at me as he lifts his pint glass to his mouth.

“Boys,” Geneva says next to me taking us both by surprise.

First, I can’t believe my sister actually shows up. Second, she seems to do so at lightning speed. I haven’t come up with a plan of attack when she slides into the booth next to me.

“Peter,” she says. He nods back. Then she turns to me. “Cinq.” She began calling me the French version of five in elementary school. Her boarding school started foreign language early.

“How come Peter doesn’t have a nickname?” I ask.

“Because I don’t find him as irritating as you,” she answers. Peter grins at me. Asshole. “So, what was so urgent that I had to walk out of class for?”

Geneva is a black belt in jiu-jitsu. Naturally. Why wouldn’t she want to learn to kill someone with her bare hands? I assume it will be during some forced family gathering.

“Rand has this brilliant idea for marketing,” Peter says, selling me out.

Geneva settles her stony gaze on me and waits.

“Yeah, so here’s what I was thinking.” I lay out an entire preposterous plan that I make up as I go along. It involves models, pristine views, and possibly fast cars. I honestly can’t remember.

When I’m done with my wild scheme, Geneva just sits, staring at me. I don’t think she blinks. I have to fight the urge to squirm.

“Okay, it’s not all horrible,” she finally says. Now I have to resist the urge to do a victory lap around the bar. “Let me work on it, and I’ll get back to you.” She stands.

“Hey, G. Want to grab something to eat?” Peter asks.

I suspect he’s always had a thing for my sister. You have to give it to him. The man just keeps swinging for the fences. She gives him a glacial stare.

“I said you don’t annoy me as much. You still annoy me.” With that, she spins on the heel of her very expensive workout shoes and glides from the room. I say “glides” because I’m pretty sure she’s a witch and never touches the ground.

“Why do you do that?” I ask.

“I have a submissive kink.”

“Gross.” I sit for a second considering what he said. I mean, I can’t unhear it. “She would be a pretty good choice for a Dom.” I shiver and he laughs. “You’re going to need an ironclad safeword.” Please make me stop talking.

“How about Cinq? When she hears me cry out your nickname, she stops flogging me.”

“You’re disgusting. You know that right?” Peter laughs.

* * *

“Everything should be on track to film in a couple of weeks. Here are the models you are so insistent about vetting,” Geneva says, laying a file on the conference room desk. My hands are shaking as I reach for it. This is it. This is where I begin the reunion between myself and the woman in my dreams.

Flipping open the file, I gaze at the first picture. She’s pretty enough, but she’s no Brontë. Neither is the second one. Nor the third. I start digging through the photos faster. I can’t find her. I know I told my sister we needed the headshots of all of their models. Why can’t I find her? My hands spread the photos around on the table in a frenzy.

“Can you explain why my brother is acting like a squirrel on cocaine?” Geneva asks Peter as he steps into the room.

“Shit, shit, shit! She’s not here.” I toss the photos into the air. They rain down like large pieces of confetti. “Are you sure this is everyone?” I hiss at her.

“Buddy,” Peter says, approaching me like I’m a rabid hyena. “She’s bound to be here somewhere. Let me help you look.” He begins picking up the photos from the floor.

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