Chapter 6: The Hard-to-Please Client

After the madness, a heavy fog of guilt settled over me. The one I felt I had wronged was Ashley Shaw. During that stretch, I called Ashley a few times. Beyond some half-hearted sweet talk, I told her I'd put every cent of my commission into savings. I told her not to worry. I promised I would keep the promise I made to her and her mom within two years. She was moved, and told me not to work myself into the ground, to look after my health. Only, we never fooled around on video again. I brought it up a few times, and each time she turned me down because her mother was home. Fair enough. I had no right to question it. Of course, Colette Warth's intoxicating beauty kept popping into my head and slipping into my dreams. I was not made of stone. I could not just flip a switch and forget, no matter what she had said. Did she ever think of me? Were those bluish marks on her skin from her husband's fists? If she appeared in front of me again, should I walk up and say hello, or turn away and pretend I did not know her? Would she still quarrel with her husband? Would she ask me out for another drink? Like a jackass, I sometimes got up in the middle of the night to stand by my door and listen for sounds from the place across the hall. I loitered in the complex before work and after, hanging around on purpose. Now and then I stopped and tipped my head back to stare at Colette Warth's windows, hoping she would lean out to hang laundry and, by accident, drop a hanger or something on my head. Nothing happened. I didn't have Casanova's luck. Colette vanished again as if she had never existed. When love tanked, work took off. In that spell, I landed a huge, big-spending client. There were two reasons she was such a big deal. First, she was loaded. The moment she arrived, she fell for a luxury villa our company had just listed. Its market price was over a million dollars. If the deal went through, the commission would be close to ten thousand. Second, she was on the heavy side-under five‑three and about 175 pounds. Her body shape didn't dampen my enthusiasm for the job. I trailed behind her, all yes-ma'am, fawning like a toady and buttering her up with every step. "Ms. Aria, we're almost there up ahead. Take it easy. It's a hot day. Have some water first," I said, twisting the cap off a bottle of water and holding it out to Aria Tesdal. Aria glanced at me but did not reach for it. "Our Ms. Aria only drinks coffee. Mysticat Brew," her driver said. Tanner shot me a catty side-eye. From the way he carried himself, he and Aria were more than employer and employee. They had to be sleeping together. Looking at that dumbass, I itched to smear a lump of cow dung across his face. "It's fine. The day really is hot, and I am a bit thirsty," Aria said, breaking into a small smile. Her cheeks bunched up. She took the bottle from my hand and sipped. "Thank you. By the way, I never caught your name." "My name is Trevor Zimmerman," I said. "Trevor, I'll buy you coffee next time." Good thing she didn't say 'Mysticat Brew'-I'd have lost my taste for it. "Thank you, Ms. Tesdal." I kept calling her 'Ms. Tesdal' every other sentence, as obedient as a grandson. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Tanner shooting me another venomous side-eye. Aria followed me as we toured all three floors. She did not speak, but I could tell from her eyes she liked it. "So, what do you think, Ms. Tesdal? The place was just renovated. The owners are emigrating to Amurica, otherwise they would never part with it. At this price and in this location, you won't find another like it around here. The past few days, several groups of buyers have come to see it. They all liked it. If this is your style, you should act fast." I struck while the iron was hot, hoping to lock it in soon. With that commission, I could finally hold my head up, at least for a while, in front of Ashley and her mom. Before Aria could answer, that jackass chimed in first. "Ms. Aria, I don't think this place is as good as he says. The renovation feels a bit cheap. Look at this crystal chandelier; it's not even the high-end imported kind. And the first floor would look far grander with black marble. The colors aren't your style. For a place this expensive, I still think you should think it over." I shot the brat a look. He rolled his eyes at me. "Careful-roll them any higher and they might get stuck," I muttered in my head. "Ms. Tesdal, I know buying a home is a big deal. It takes some thought. But a place like this, at this price and in this location, is the kind you stumble across-you don't get to order it up. Of course, I am not asking you to decide right this second. I am just reminding you, kindly, not to wait too long. Yesterday I picked up another client. He's very taken with this property. He said he and his wife would come view it together tomorrow when she gets off work, and if she likes it too, that'd seal the deal. I felt we hit it off, so I wanted to give you the heads-up." For the sake of the commission, I told a little fib. Houses this pricey did not have that many buyers. "Alright, I got it. Give me your card. I'll think it over and call you then," Aria said. I fished a business card from my pocket and handed her my card.