Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
TWO
Santiago
“What do you mean, no fucking deal?” I scream through the phone. I’ve been Los Angeles’ leading and record holding real estate investment company for ten years. It didn’t matter what the economy was like. When a property was hot and for the wealthy, you made money. Not to mention the celebrities are looking for rentals. That’s where the fast and easy money rules—a few months for a season or two. The sky is the limit when it comes to money.
“She doesn’t want to pay the asking price, hence no deal.” Why I’m even dealing with this pesky shit, I have no idea other than it’s because the client is a friend of my brother’s, and I’m always helping him with some kind of fucking favor.
“Tell her to sleep on it. I’m going to call Alejandro. This is one of his people.” I run my fingers through my hair, annoyed that you go around and around to help someone, then they pull this shit.
“Will do. I’m heading to the bar. If you get off at a reasonable time, feel free to join me,” Jayden offers.
“Yeah, we’ll see. I’ve got a bottle of tequila with my name on it sitting in my office if I don’t make it.”
“The offer is there. Later, man.” We say our goodbyes, getting it over and done with because I’m going to wring my little brother’s neck. A problem client when the fucker should be dealing with her himself if he’s so damn worried.
I hang up the phone, barely slamming it down in its cradle. Last time I did that, I broke it, and seeing as how it was the fourth one in less than a month, it took a week to get a new one. My HR director was and still is adamant that I have one in my office even though I told her I’d be better off if people would just quit screwing up. A hope, a wish, and a prayer that’s what it’ll amount to, seeing as how I’m still cleaning up after others’ messes. I pull my phone out of my desk drawer, knowing if it were sitting on my desk, all it would do is piss me off further with the constant chiming or vibrating. Why I bother even keeping on the ringer, I have no idea.
“Alejandro, I’m going to wring your damn neck,” I breathe out as I pull my phone out, bringing up my baby brother’s number and smashing his name until the ringing starts.
“I was about to call you, mi hermano.” He’s ten years behind me in age. Our parents thought they were done having kids after me, never expecting that all those years later, our mother would fall pregnant.
“Cut the shit, self-proclaimed Romeo. We all know you use our language for the ladies and the ladies only. You want to tell me why you didn’t clue me in on the girl, a damn diva, before I gave her to one of my top-selling agents only for her not to be prepared to offer full price on a home that’s fresh on the market, a house she asked for?”
“Hmmm, she didn’t seem like a diva in bed,” Alejandro says on the other end of the line. Figures that he’d pull this stunt. Not that he has before, but that still shouldn’t shock any of us since he’s always been the class clown, and even now that he’s thirty damn years old, he’s always doing the unexpected.
“Jesucristo, do you have no fucking shame?” I would have never handed the client off had I known she was one of Alejandro’s conquests.
“None at all. Are we going to talk about the giant elephant in the room that you keep bobbing and weaving anytime the family gets together? I mean, it’s not every day you turn forty years old, old man.”
“I don’t have time for this conversation. Rein the chick in, or I’m cutting her loose and she’ll be crying over paying the fee without a home to put it towards.” Most of the people we deal with don’t want to lose the fifty-thousand-dollar deposit we require. It’s incentive so we know we’re not playing around and wasting our time.
“Fine, I’ll deal with Skye. That doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten your present. A few more days, brother, a few more days.” I should hang up on him, and in the past, I probably would have, but there’s something gnawing at me, worried that he’s up to no good.
“Alejandro,” I grumble, trying to get my point across, “if we’re done with this shit, I’d like to finish with my work tonight, not at three o’clock in the damn morning.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll call you tomorrow to talk about a time and place I should have your present delivered.” Alejandro is not stopping.
“It’s just another day, and I don’t need a damn thing,” I reply.