Too hot to handle: A curvy girl romance

by River Laurent

  If you want something great, you have to be willing to sacrifice the not-so-great stuff. It’s all a matter of choices. Sure, I’d love to be able to maintain my position in the company while enjoying a busy social life, but that’s not possible. It is what it is.

  Closing my office door, I can hang up my coat on the rack in the corner, and sit down to plan my day. Call me old-fashioned, but I believe in writing out my to-do lists at the start of every day. I can always add items to my ticker on the computer, but the act of writing it all down soothes me in a way technology simply can’t. And it’s an excuse to put down my phone for a minute.

  A very, very rare minute for me.

  “Call Cindy,” I murmur, scrawling the name of one of my recently closed clients. I like to check in a week or so after closing to see how things are going with the new house, maybe send a gift basket or flowers. I add a sub-note beneath that to remind myself to place an order. I have other such calls to make after that, seeing as how I’ve sold four additional properties in the last month.

  It’s been busy. God, I love it.

  A knock at my door makes my nose wrinkle. Can’t they give me ten minutes of peace? “Yes?” I call out, forcing the irritation out of my voice.

  Becca pokes her head in, her cloud of auburn curls making an appearance before she does. I wish I had hair as pretty as hers, but I know I’d never be able to get it to behave as well as hers. I’d probably end up a frizzy mess, forced to eternally wear a messy bun. Who has the time?

  “Rodney’s looking for you,” she whispers before wincing.

  My eyes dart over to my phone, checking the time. “Not even nine-fifteen yet? It must be my lucky day.”

  “Godspeed.” She hurries off, probably grateful she’s not the one the boss wants to see this early on a Monday. I can only imagine what he wants from me at this time of the morning.

  Rodney’s not bad, as far as bosses go. I worked for some real winners throughout college, during my internship and in the year following that. Rodney’s intense, sure, and a hard worker, I mean, how else would he get to be in the corner office? But he rewards good work and doles out opportunities to those he knows will make the most of them.

  I hope that’s what this is about.

  I take a quick look at myself in my compact. My chocolate-brown hair is in place, smoothed back in its low ponytail. I really do wish I had more time to make it look nicer, but even when I try, it never comes out the way I’d like. The makeup around my hazel eyes looks good. I didn’t smudge it on the way here.

  I stand and smooth down the skirt of my black dress before striding out into the beehive. This could be good. No, this will be good. He’s going to congratulate me on my sales last month. He’s going to give me a raise. He’s going to give me a new listing. He’s going to…

  The sight of an unwelcome presence outside his office door nearly stops me in my tracks.

  Ugh.

  Zack?

  He would have to stop in for a moment of the boss’s time when I’m on my way in for something I’ve decided must be very, very important. This is so like him, acting as if the entire world revolves around him and what he wants. Forget the rest of us, forget having a little consideration of his boss’s time first thing on a Monday.

  The thing is, he acts that way because people treat him as though it’s okay to be an inconsiderate jerk. Just because he’s good looking, the women around the office fawn over him like he’s the second coming. I guess that sort of drop dead gorgeousness will breed confidence throughout other areas of life too. Not that I’m ugly or anything, just that he’s in a class by himself. Even I can admit that, and I can’t stand the man.

  Why?

  Because he’s almost as good as me. Maybe as good as, certainly not better than. To date he is my only competition in the company. The only agent who closes nearly as many properties as I do, for around as much money as I do.

  All right. He had a slightly higher sales figure than I did last month, but only by a few measly hundred thousand dollars. That’s nothing when you’re selling the sort of luxury properties we handle.

  Damn it, he’s making a move to close Rodney’s office door behind him. I put on a little speed, hurrying the rest of the way in order to catch the door before it swings shut.

  “Excuse me,” I murmur through gritted teeth. “I was told Rodney wanted to see me.”

  His ice blue eyes size me up, and one corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. “Small world. So was I.”

  We both turn to our boss, who’s seated behind his desk. As always, the office is pristine, without so much as a single paper or pen out of place. Not a single speck of dust anywhere. He’s a very deliberate man, Rodney is.

  If this were my office, I would be the same way.

  He flashes us one of his million-dollar smiles, the sort of smile I’m still working on, the one that closes never ending, multi-million-dollar sales. “I wanted to see the both of you at once, as a matter of fact. Please, close the door and have a seat.”

  I exchange a look with Zack—for once, the two of us are in the same boat, both slightly confused and feeling as though we’re about to go up in front of a firing squad. But if he can be confident, so can I. I close the door and walk over to one of the chairs which face Rodney’s side of the desk, taking a seat and folding my hands in my lap.

  He hasn’t stopped smiling, looking for all the world like the cat that ate the canary. He has News for us, the sort of news that requires a capital-N when I imagine it in my head. I’ve seen that gleam in his eyes before. And it wasn’t good the last time.

  “We don’t have much time, so I’ll give you the Reader’s Digest version: Nick McMann is selling his estate, and he’s going with Dunhurst for the sale.”

  My mind immediately starts to race. The McMann property is legendary, built with the sort of money only a multi-platinum selling recording artist can afford to spend. I can see it in my head. It looks like something from that old TV show, Dynasty, somewhat more modern, but just as sprawling and over-the-top.

  And he’s going with us to close the sale.

  I have a feeling I know why Rodney called us in, and I’m more than up to the challenge. He wants to see which of the two of us can close it first. No freaking contest. I already have a half-dozen people in mind to call up and see if they’re interested.

  A quick glance out of the corner of my eye tells me Zack’s thinking along the same lines. He can’t hide that wolfish smile he gets on his stupid face whenever he sees himself close to a big sale. I wonder how he manages to sell anything at all, seeing as how he gives away what he’s thinking with that stupid, arrogant smile of his.

  I’m gonna wipe the floor with him.

  “We’re talking the sale of the decade here,” Rodney continues, oblivious to the silent war going on between his staff. As far as he’s concerned, Zack and I are his two shining stars. I don’t think he would care even if he knew we hate each other, so long as we keep making money for the company.

  “No kidding,” Zack observes with a smarmy grin. God, he is such an ass kisser.

  “There’s just one little catch.” Rodney’s smile fades. “It has to be closed within a week.”

  “What?” I realize a moment later that Zack said it just as I did. For once, something has managed to knock him off his high horse. He looks just as shook as I feel.

  Rodney holds up his hands, signaling silence before the two of us can continue to work ourselves into a frenzy. A week? Is he insane? “It’s the only stipulation Nick has. He wants the sale finalized in a week. He’s moving out of the country and doesn’t want any loose ends.”

  “A week? He’s crazy,” I mutter. Just like a clueless celebrity. He obviously doesn’t understand or doesn’t care about how much work goes into a sale, especially a high-profile sale like this one. They think we can just snap our fingers and make magic happen.

  “If there’s anyone I trust to get this done, it’s the two of you.”

&n
bsp; Silence. He is greeted by complete silence for at least five seconds after dropping that adorable little bombshell on our heads. I’m still reeling from the timeline situation, and he goes and adds this to the mix.

  “The two of us?” Zack croaks.

  I can’t help but feel slightly pleased at his incredulity, even though I know it comes from the fact that he likes me around him as much as I like do. Which is to say, not even a little bit.

  Meanwhile, I’m too gobsmacked to speak. What is there to say? To argue with him would make me look childish, and I know Rodney well enough by now to know he doesn’t change his mind once he’s made it up. I can only sit here and absorb whatever it is he has to say.

  “The two of you,” he confirms, smiling again. “You’re the two best salespeople I have, which shouldn’t be a surprise to either of you. I couldn’t trust anyone, but you guys to do this. Let’s face it: this will be a challenge, and a big one so I would rather have two great minds on it than only one. And considering the price Nick’s looking to pull down, your commission will be sizable even when split in half.”

  Zack looks like somebody just killed his dog.

  I feel like somebody just killed mine. If I had one, that is. This isn’t going to go well. I can’t believe Rodney would do this—high-profile sale or not. The fact that he doesn’t have enough faith in me to let me handle it on my own speaks volumes. I’m not a child. I don’t need my hand held.

  And I sure as hell don’t need Zack sliming his way around the place, doing little work and taking all the credit for what’s surely going to be my sale. I’ve never exactly had a lot of respect for people who charm their way through life without actually working for anything, which is exactly the sort of guy he is.

  “Off you go, then. You both have a lot of work to do. Becca should have all the preliminary information together for you by now.” When he turns to face his laptop, I know we’ve been dismissed for good. No chance of changing his mind, no way to beg him to reconsider without looking like a whiny little crybaby.

  My knees are shaking as I stand, but I do my best to cover up the absolute fury roiling in my stomach as I walk out with Zack behind me. There are times when even the biggest sale and tastiest commission aren’t worth it. I hope this isn’t one of those times, but something tells me it will be.

  No wonder people hate Mondays so much. I think I might start hating them, too.

  Chapter 2

  Zack

  He’s got to be kidding. Even as I walk out of the door I keep waiting for him to yell “Gotcha!” or something like that, but he hasn’t. Yet. I’m afraid he never will. I’m afraid he seriously means to pair us together.

  Her? He wants me to work with the ice princess? Doesn’t he know what an insufferable little bitch she is? And that’s not me being mean. Hell, everybody in the office thinks so. They’re just too afraid of her, and of the way Rodney obviously loves her, to say anything about it. She’s one of the two top agents in the company.

  I just happen to be the other one.

  If Rodney wasn’t such a stickler for keeping everybody accountable by making us work like bees in a hive, there would be three offices on our floor instead of only his. Mine would be one of them, and hers would be the other one. Even I can admit she’s damn good at what she does.

  Why does she have to be such a hard-nosed bitch about it, though? That’s what I don’t get. All she cares about is work, all she wants is the sale. Forget making friends in the office, forget being a human being and not some robot who understands nothing but numbers and commissions. There isn’t even any making small talk with her. She can’t even be bothered to take time out of her busy day around the coffee maker, the way civilized people do when they work together.

  There’s a reason I steer clear of her and anybody like her, male or female. Especially when they happen to be my competition.

  But now Rodney has gone and dropped her in my fucking lap and asked me to play nice. We have to be a team. I’ve never been good at acting as though I like someone when I don’t. And I don’t have a reputation for playing nice.

  What a hell of a week this is going to be.

  I follow her out of Rodney’s office and wish she wasn’t wearing that tight dress. It’s not enough that I have to work with her. I have to watch that cute little ass wiggling back and forth every time she walks past.

  I know I don’t technically have to watch. I just can’t help it. Why does she have to be so… her?

  It’s not like I’ve ever had trouble with women—far from it. Even now, I catch three passing coworkers checking me out. I’m used to it. I’m not being big-headed. It’s just a fact of life. If I decided I wanted a little company tonight, it wouldn’t be too hard to convince any of the single women in the office to join me.

  My gaze drops to the straight set of shoulders marching ahead of me. But this one. This Sienna. She acts like she’s untouchable, like she has no time for anything as basic as sexual needs. She’s so far above mere mortals like me. That’s probably my biggest problem with her.

  We reach her wannabe office first, as mine is at the other end of the floor. Thank God, I’m not checking her ass out anymore when she stops suddenly and turns around to glare at me. I don’t need her accusing me of harassment.

  She sighs, like she’s the only one with a problem. I barely manage to hold my tongue and keep from asking if I’m making her late for the surgery to get the massive stick removed from her ass.

  “I guess we should take some time to go over a plan for this,” she says, making sure to sound as bored as possible.

  “I should be able to clear some time today.”

  Her eyes roll. It’s clearly a gesture she’s practiced throughout her life. “How about dinner tonight? I’ll send you a calendar request. We can talk it over then.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  She rewards me with another eye roll before stepping into her makeshift office and closing the door with a decisive snap of the latch.

  She’d better not plan on acting that way throughout our time together, but something tells me she will. She’ll make me feel like this is the ultimate inconvenience. Like she’s supremely put out by this. She has to be the most self-centered person I’ve ever met.

  Which is saying something, because I’ve known my share. Without warning and completely inappropriately, an image of her sour mouth wrapped around my cock slips into my head, and immediately my cock twitches with interest.

  Fuck!

  I jam my fists into my pants pockets and continue to my desk, grateful she can’t see the way she’s affected me. It would be a power trip for her to know I’m secretly lusting after her. Which is extremely annoying because I don’t usually react to women like this and I don’t like showing my hand so easily. Especially not to someone like her. How am I supposed to rush through this job and still do it the right way when she’s part of it?

  At least I have a door to close behind me, shutting out the rest of the office for a while. They don’t need to see me sitting here with my head in my hands. It would ruin the image I’ve put together over the years.

  I guess I have no choice. I can’t refuse Rodney. I need this sale. Not for the commission. She’s welcome to it all if she’ll just let me take the credit for it. I have my reasons for needing this sale on my resume and it’s nothing to do with money. Worst part is, I know I could close this sale on my own. No point asking her to let me make the sale on my own in exchange for all the commission. Knowing the way she is, she’ll want to take all the credit, all the commission, and my head on a platter.

  There’s got to be a way to get around this mess.

  An idea starts to bloom in my mind, one which probably isn’t completely fair, but hey, all’s fair in love and war and real estate. I don’t feel too bad about it as I’ll let her keep all the commission.

  Anyway, instinct tells me she’d do the same to me if she had enough imagination.

  The Rival will be out next month.r />
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