Top Producer

by Laura Wolfe

  “Oh! Really? Thank you.” Jacqueline reached across the table, feigning surprise. “That’s very kind.”

  Lydia held up her hand, signaling Jacqueline to slow down. “Roger’s a man of his word, though. He’s not likely to change his mind about the Lincoln Park project if he already promised the listing to this Kevin character.”

  “I understand.” Jacqueline nodded. “A man who keeps his word. That’s admirable.”

  The three of us chuckled at Jacqueline’s jab at the male species. Then, as if Lydia could see Jacqueline’s mind wandering back to the man in her life who hadn’t kept his word, she patted Jacqueline’s hand.

  “Don’t you worry, honey. There’s a good man out there for you somewhere. You just haven’t found him yet.”

  “Well, I have Jeffery.” Jacqueline swallowed, her eyes darting in every direction. “He’s in Africa right now.”

  “Yes, dear. I forgot. Of course, you do.

  ◆◆◆

  Two days later, Roger Burton loomed over a massive black table in a conference room at the office of Burton Development. The company’s in-house attorney, a balding man with pasty skin and a charcoal suit, sat next to Roger, flipping through a stack of papers. Jacqueline paused before entering the room, pointing to a spot in the hallway outside where she wanted me to wait. I hovered awkwardly near the doorway and hoped Kevin couldn’t see me. Jacqueline strode into the conference room, leaving the door cracked open for my benefit.

  My feet ached, and I wished she hadn’t insisted I come with her. A receptionist from Burton Development wandered past, so I pretended to look at my phone, trying not to make it obvious that I was eavesdropping. Jacqueline claimed an open seat across from Roger and his attorney. From where I stood, I could only see the back of Jacqueline’s head. Her hair was pulled into a French twist, and a tailored suit jacket skimmed her shoulders. Kevin slouched into a leather chair two seats to her right. I hoped he didn’t suspect me of telling Jacqueline about his new development listing.

  Roger cleared his throat. “As I mentioned on the phone, we’re meeting here today because Burton Development would like the two of you to list our newest development in Lincoln Park, Arlington on the Park. You will be co-listers and split all sales fifty-fifty.”

  Jacqueline nodded. “Thank you, Roger.”

  Kevin grunted and shook his head.

  Roger shifted toward Kevin. “Kevin, I know you think you can handle this development on your own, but I disagree. Eighty units is a lot for one person to sell, even with some junior agents assisting you. Jacqueline will be a valuable asset.”

  “This isn’t the deal we agreed on, Roger.” Kevin rolled his chair back from the table.

  “We never put it in writing, Kevin. The deal we’re signing today is the deal we agree on. If you don’t like it, I can always list with another company.”

  A tense silence hung in the air. Even the attorney stopped shuffling papers.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Jacqueline said.

  “Are you ready to move forward, Kevin?” Roger asked.

  “Yes.” Kevin angled his shoulders toward Roger, refusing to acknowledge Jacqueline’s presence.

  Lydia had pulled through for Jacqueline, and I had to give the woman credit. She must have given her husband an earful. Jacqueline had wanted the development all to herself, but fifty percent was better than nothing.

  I tried not to zone out completely as the attorney reviewed every word of the thirty-page contract. The terms designated Kevin and Jacqueline as the exclusive listing agents for a period of twelve months, renewable by the agreement of both parties. They’d receive a two percent commission on each sale, minus their cut to Greystone. They’d split all commissions fifty-fifty regardless of which one of them showed the unit or wrote the contract. They’d be paid at closing. They’d operate out of a sales center that Burton Development had recently finished constructing on the site, which contained a model unit. The contract required them to hold open houses at the sales center every Sunday from 1:00 p.m. to 4:00 p.m. No exceptions. Failure to do so was grounds for termination.

  This development sounded like a time suck, and I got a sinking feeling that Jacqueline planned to pawn the open houses off on me.

  After everyone signed the paperwork, shook hands, and made small talk about the state of the Chicago real estate market, Jacqueline gathered her things to leave. She raised her eyebrows at me as she strode into the hallway. I jogged to keep up with her through the front door of the building.

  Jacqueline’s eyes beamed at me as I caught up to her. “Did you hear all that?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I can’t believe Lyd…”

  Before I could finish my sentence, footsteps pounded behind me, the fine hairs on my arm standing on end as I gagged on a stale mixture of cologne and sweat. Kevin pushed past me and thrust his body toward Jacqueline, trapping her between himself and the brick wall of the building. He glared at her, nostrils flaring.

  “How did you get your claws into this deal, Jacqueline? This was my development.” His eyes bounced toward me but landed back on her.

  I kept my face still as my chest flooded with guilt. Kevin had offered to take me to the CCC after I’d shown an interest in it. Maybe his motives hadn’t been completely pure, but I’d still betrayed him.

  “I guess someone put in a good word for me.” Jacqueline shrugged.

  “You’re an underhanded bitch. You know that? Don’t expect me to make things easy for you.”

  “Right back at you.” Jacqueline smiled at him. Then she shoved his arm out of her path and marched down the sidewalk.

  Kevin turned toward me, a bewildered expression on his face. “You’re too good for her, Mara. Get out while you still can.”

  I gulped and turned away, unable to ignore the tremor that crawled down my spine.

  34

  Jacqueline’s desk sat empty amid the afternoon hum of the real estate office. I took the rare opportunity to scan through my potential leads, the ones not connected to her. Kevin’s warning had been turning over in my head since our encounter outside Burton Development yesterday. Get out while you still can.

  Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to separate myself from Jacqueline before I lost grasp of all my moral bearings. Her troubling behavior had been easier to shake off when her schemes didn’t involve me. But, now she’d tricked me into taking the driver’s seat, had pushed me into betraying unsuspecting people one too many times. My actions didn’t sit right, no matter what the payoff.

  My body weighed with worry as I studied the document on my laptop. My list of independent clients was shorter than I’d hoped—only two potential buyers and one two-bedroom listing in Lincoln Square.

  Dad’s name flashed on my phone.

  “Hi.”

  “Mara, we’ve got some bad news,” I could barely hear Dad’s voice against the background noise of chatting realtors. He paused and cleared his throat. “Are you sitting down?”

  I clenched my phone with one hand and braced myself against my desk with the other. “Yeah.”

  “The results of Emma’s follow-up tests came back. Her cancer has returned.”

  “What?” I clutched my phone tighter, not wanting to believe the words.

  “It’s recurring Lymphoma.” Dad sighed. “The doctor said it’s common for cancer to come back shortly after treatment. Mom’s upstairs with Emma now. It’s been…upsetting.”

  I couldn’t shake the memory of Emma’s starchy complexion, her hollow eyes. I swallowed, trying to control the anger that rose inside of me. I’d known. As soon as I’d heard her quivering voice and watched her frail body collapse in the chair, I’d known. Now we’d lost another week.

  “What are we going to do?” I couldn’t breathe.

  “She’ll have to go through chemo again. Then, depending on her blood cell counts, she might need a transfusion.”

  “NO!” I slammed my fist on my desk, not letting him finish his sentence. Valerie turned fro
m her post at the front desk, tossing a curious glance my way.

  Dad cleared his throat. “She’s going to beat it, Mara.”

  Pressure built up behind my eyes, and I blinked to hold back the tears. I was beginning to understand what Emma had probably already realized. She wouldn’t be moving into the dorm. Not even a late arrival was possible now. She’d watch all her friends pack up and head to college while she stayed home with our parents in the suburbs fighting for her life. I closed my eyes.

  “Maybe she needs a better doctor,” I said. “A second opinion.”

  Dad sighed again. “Normally, I’d agree, but her oncologist is one of the best in the country. He says recurrence is common.”

  “What about college?”

  “We have to put that on hold.” He gasped, then made a choking sound. It took a second for me to realize he was crying.

  “Dad… it’s going to be okay.” I said the words as much to reassure myself as to comfort him. “I’ll help with the bills.”

  Dad exhaled. “Well, I’ve been thinking about it. We can still sell the house if we have to.”

  It felt like he’d yanked my chair out from underneath me. My heart hammered in my chest at the thought of my parents selling my childhood home, the years of memories erased, and their life savings spent. “It won’t come to that. We’ll find another way.”

  We ended the phone call and I stared out the window, still rattled by the conversation. I stood from my desk and paced in circles, unsure what to do with myself. A text buzzed through on my phone. Jacqueline again. Follow up with seller re: Argyle property. I wouldn’t be able to part ways with her yet. I needed to keep her happy, to work even harder to keep my cut of her commissions rolling in. But I needed to expand my personal client list at the same time. My expenses were adding up, and now there’d be more bills from Emma’s doctors. Jacqueline had used the information I’d given her from the CCC meeting to work her way into Kevin’s new development listing. The referral fees I’d earn from those sales would be huge, but those units wouldn’t close until next year.

  I pulled up the calendar on my phone to see where I needed to be today. Damon’s name caught my eye, my tumbling heart replacing the gut-punch I’d just received. Our first date was tomorrow night. I dropped my head down, not feeling in any way prepared to impress a potential new boyfriend. Still, I wouldn’t cancel. The possibility of getting to know Damon was the only bright spot in my life. I’d never needed to claim something for myself more. My shoulders fell backward into my chair. I pressed my fingers over my eyes, holding in the tears while trying to envision which outfit to wear.

  35

  “When do you think the first units will be delivered?” Oscar cornered me next to a display of granite samples inside the sales center.

  “Early next year.” I’d never seen him dressed in anything nicer than a button-down shirt, and he didn’t look half-bad in his suit and tie. I glanced over his angular shoulder and forced a smile at other Greystone realtors who’d recently arrived. The grand opening party for Arlington on the Park was underway, the over-the-top gala attracting hundreds of realtors and potential buyers. While the majority of guests were only here for the free cocktails and appetizers, Jacqueline promised there’d be some potential buyers, too.

  Oscar grasped his sharp elbows with opposite hands, strumming his fingers against them. “You ever go to any seminars? There’s one next week with a marketing guru from New York. It’s supposed to be really good if you want to go with me.” He talked so fast that I could barely register the words rushing from his mouth. I wanted to tell him not to waste his time on seminars, but I stopped myself, realizing I’d sound exactly like Jacqueline.

  “Oh, thanks, but I don’t have time,” I said, waving my hand at the sales center.

  “Yeah. I guess you’re busy. Let me know if you change your mind.” Oscar raised his lanky arm in a wave and wandered toward the refreshments.

  People stammered in various directions, admiring the black-and-white renderings of the completed project, or commenting on the limitless finishes for the kitchens and bathrooms while weaving their way toward the bar. Jacqueline mingled with a few realtors from other companies, glancing in my direction every couple of minutes to ensure I was making the rounds. Kevin was there, too, but I noticed he and Jacqueline had positioned themselves on opposite sides of the crowded room.

  I wished I could ditch the party and hang out with Damon instead. His disarming smile and messy hair had been painted in my mind since our date three nights ago. My heart jolted at the thought of him. He’d arrived at the door of my condo looking even more handsome than I remembered in his dark jeans and a button-down shirt, holding a bundle of wildflowers out to me.

  “They’re not roses,” he’d said. “I don’t like clichés.”

  “Me neither.” We both giggled as I grasped the bundle of stems, trying to hide the tremor in my hand. My finger brushed against his. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

  “You look great.” His gaze flitted toward the deep neckline of my black sleeveless top, before bouncing back to my eyes.

  “So do you.”

  When we’d arrived at Sushi Zan, Damon strode in front of me as we neared the solid red door, reaching forward to hold it open. Over dinner, he described the details of his life as a second-year law student. He was planning to specialize in environmental law so he could fight against big corporations that recklessly polluted our air and water in the name of profits. His idealism enthralled me. He was a breath of fresh air after spending so much time with Jacqueline.

  Damon told me funny stories from the bartending jobs he picked up once in a while to help pay the bills. He asked me about my career, so I told him about real estate and Jacqueline and how much I’d hated my old consulting job. He wanted to know about my family. I told him about Emma because her relapse had been weighing on me. He reached across the table and squeezed my hand, his skin rough and warm against mine. He said how sorry he was and asked if he could meet her sometime. I said that he could. I imagined they’d get along well.

  After dinner, we strolled hand-in-hand along Chestnut Street, catching glimpses of people dining and drinking through the illuminated windows of bars and restaurants, his presence next to me as natural as if we’d known each other for years, or maybe in a past life. We wandered to the edge of a park where he pulled me under an oak tree, the energy between us tangible and magnetic. He kissed me, his lips firm and gentle as they pressed against mine, his tongue welcome in my mouth. When we finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, his arms remained wrapped around me, solid and strong, the heat from our bodies melding. I could have stayed with him forever.

  “Mara! Why aren’t you talking to anyone?” Jacqueline’s voice ripped me from my daydream.

  I pushed the spaghetti strap of my dress back up on my shoulder, where it immediately slid back down my arm.

  Jacqueline nodded toward the entryway. “Go chat up some of The Real Housewives.”

  I followed her gaze. Sure enough, The Real Housewives of Greystone had arrived. Missy tossed back her vibrant hair and laughed loudly at something one of the others had said. Lana posed with her hand on her hip, displaying the designer dress she was wearing.

  I swallowed, not having the energy to approach them yet. “How are sales going?”

  Jacqueline rolled her shoulders back, the jewels on her necklace glittering under the lights. “We’ve got ten units under contract.”

  “Already?”

  “These units practically sell themselves. People want to live here.”

  I stared through the wide entryway beyond the sales center and into the high-end model unit featuring lofty ceilings, massive windows, radiant floor heating, solid oak doors, walk-in closets, and a chef’s kitchen. Burton Development had spared no expense in the construction. The finishes were luxurious, but tasteful, appealing equally to young professionals and aging socialites. Greystone had begun marketing the development two days earlier
as the premier upscale residence for the savvy Lincoln Park buyer. Apparently, the strategy was working.

  “Sounds like we’re going to make a lot of money.” I wondered what twenty percent of Jacqueline’s fifty percent of the sale of eighty units would look like. I hadn’t done the math, but I hoped it would be enough to cut through Emma’s upcoming medical bills

  Jacqueline squared her shoulders, her grey eyes sliding over to mine. “There is no ‘we.’ Arlington on the Park is my development.”

  My body froze as the room dissolved around me. The cold glare in her eyes told me she was serious. My stomach heaved, feeling as if I’d had the wind knocked out of me. I realized what she was trying to do. My jaw tightened as I stepped closer to her.

  “I was the one who told you about this development.” I spoke in a loud whisper, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Kevin wasn’t nearby. “You wouldn’t have known about it if I hadn’t gone to the CCC meeting and reported back to you.”

  Jacqueline straightened her shoulders, her lithe frame towering over me. “Wrong. I got this development on my own through my friendship with Lydia Burton. She told me about it.”

  My fingers balled into fists. “I was at that lunch. Lydia didn’t mention it. You brought it up because I’d told you about it!”

  “It was much more than just one lunch. I’ve been wining and dining that woman for months.”

  “This is bullshit!”

  Jacqueline’s eyes flicked sideways. “Keep your voice down. I earned this development. Kevin is already taking half. I can’t give away any more of my commission.”

  A waiter pushed past me, and I almost toppled over. What was I doing at this party if Jacqueline wasn’t going to pay me for my work?

  “Keep your chin up, Mara. We have plenty of other deals in the works.”

  “Emma’s cancer is back.” The words slipped out of my dry throat.

  Jacqueline stared at me, her lips parting slightly. “I’m sorry, but that has no bearing on our commission agreement.”