Big Shot(8)
Good God, she needed to get laid. Badly.
“What will it be, Natalie?” Wes prompted. “Deal or no deal?”
Only one option existed for her. “I agree to your wager, so it looks like we have ourselves a bet. When do you want to start?”
“Right now.”
“Okay.” The sooner, the better, in her opinion. “Do you have a listing in mind?”
“No. Go on to the Premier Realty app and you pick the property you think you can sell before I do.” He gave her a slow, arrogant grin. “That way you’ll feel comfortable with the price range.”
She bristled at his implied suggestion that she needed an easy listing to win. “I don’t want any kind of special advantage over the competition,” she said, her voice terse with annoyance. “That defeats the whole purpose of this bet.”
He casually shrugged a shoulder. “Just trying to be a nice guy.”
Yeah, right. She rolled her eyes at him as she picked up her phone and opened the app, then went straight for the listings that were over a million dollars. While she’d built a solid client base and equally impressive connections within the realty business, Natalie knew she didn’t have a stable of buyers for a three-million-dollar home yet. She didn’t want her choice to be an easy transaction—what was the challenge in that?—which meant choosing a listing that was higher than anything she’d managed to sell thus far.
Tricia came by with Wes’s receipt to sign, and while they chitchatted—or rather, flirted—Natalie tuned them out to concentrate on finding just the right property. She stopped scrolling when she came across a house in Lincoln Park. A residential dwelling with four bedrooms, two and a half baths, and twenty-eight hundred square feet. The market price had been set at one-point-six million. It was a nice family home in a great neighborhood with excellent schools, which made it more appealing for buyers with kids.
As soon as Tricia moved on to another table, she handed Wes her cell phone so he could see the house she’d chosen. “Let’s go with that listing on Magnolia Avenue.”
His brows rose over those dark, dreamy eyes. “Are you sure you want to pick that property? That listing is quite a bit above your current average sell-through.”
He was clearly provoking her, and it only made her more determined to show him just how much he underestimated her ability to find a buyer for the high-end residence. “Yep, I’m absolutely sure. Go big or go home, right?”
He laughed, the deep sound making her insides shiver and her nipples tighten oh-so-traitorously.
“All right, then,” he said, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. “May the best Realtor win.”
Chapter Four
Early the next morning—hump day Wednesday—Natalie walked into the Espresso Shot, a small locally owned coffeehouse located in downtown Chicago that was nestled on a side street between corporate high-rises. The place was mid-size compared to the bigger coffee giant that was found on every corner, but the coffee and espresso here was the absolute best, in her opinion—smooth with just a hint of nutty and sweet, unlike the strong and bitter brew that most other businessmen and women in the area seemed to gravitate to.
She took her place in line, and even though there was a steady stream of customers who frequented the cafe, it was fairly quiet, which also appealed to her. She enjoyed drinking her latte at leisure while scrolling through her phone for industry news and checking the real estate section in the Chicago Tribune to keep abreast of the market. She also made her to-do list for the day, jotted down calls she needed to make, and checked her calendar for any scheduled meetings.
Today, however, was all about strategizing with her co-worker, Richard, who was also an agent at her Maxwell Real Estate office. The company they worked for was one of those franchises, a conglomerate of more than a hundred offices located throughout the country. And because Maxwell was a franchise, there was a business model to follow and corporate bullshit to put up with and hard-line quotas to make or risk being replaced. Which was another reason the Atlanta offer sounded so appealing.
Because of overhead costs, her commission was a few percentages lower than what a privately owned company like Premier Realty could offer, and some days—okay, most days—she felt like she was just a cog in the wheel of the giant corporation. Before becoming a real estate agent, she’d worked for a mortgage company as first a loan originator, then had been promoted to escrow officer. At the time, Maxwell had been a good place for her to make the transition to realtor, where she could learn the ropes and get her feet wet, and she’d hit the ground running . . . and selling. The experience, at least, had been invaluable.
Right after her change in job a year ago, Mitch had complained about her being way too ambitious, which had translated to him not being the center of her attention as much as he once had been when she worked a regular nine-to-five job. So when her brother, Connor, had caught Mitch cheating on Natalie with another woman, Mitch hadn’t hesitated to blame her for the affair. According to him, she was never around, she was always distracted by work, and he’d felt neglected. Poor f*cking baby.
Realistically, Natalie knew she wasn’t at fault for his wandering dick, but his betrayal had been like a kick in the gut because they’d talked about marriage and eventually having a family, which was what she ultimately wanted. Yes, she was ambitious and goal-minded, but working hard had been all about building a future and a career, not just for herself but for them, so they could buy a house they loved without being financially strapped, and she could take time off to have kids when the time came without worrying about money.