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“Tiny,” she replies with a touch of disdain.
“Sotheycould use the exposure and commission...”
“The property you are looking to acquire is worth more than a hundredmilliondollars.Heragencywould nothave the experienceto handle such a sale.”
“What is there tohandle? I amthebuyer. I know exactlyhow much I am willing to spend.”
To this,Gretaremains silent, contemplating my words.
“Two birds, one stone.The girl and the property.”
Greta’s eyes widen with shock. “You mean. Oh!” Then her face becomes blank and cold. “When would you like me to contact her?”
“As soon as we land.Schedule a showing with her before the week is out.”
“Yes, Mr. Ivanovich,” she responds promptly.
Acouple ofattendants in the lounge approach to inform us that my plane is ready. They takeourbagsandlead thewayontothe tarmac towards my sleek dark plane.
I look forward to falling asleep on the flight. I’m exhausted after a week-long trip in Shanghai, so for once, I actually welcome the long flight back to New York.
Chapter Two
LARA
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."
All of these are uttered quietly under my breath because it irks me to hear them out loud. Yet, as I stare at my ringing phoneonthe extended tripod hanging from the top of the ceiling, there is no other way to expressmy frustration.
Iforgotto put my phone on airplane mode and now instead ofrecording me, it’sringingand interrupting meevery single time I start the timer.Maybe ifadvertisingonYouTubeworks out,I’ll be able tobuy some proper recording equipment.The call rings until it disconnects, and once again I reach up as best as I can, stretching my arm to its limit, holding tightly onto the stair railing so I won't fall, and press the record button.
I need this shot.It will make the house look so magical. I will stroll down, and the overhead shot will capture the beauty of thisapartment.Yes, it’s oldand some people will think it isshabby, butfor me, itscharm is undeniable. It is my hope that I will be able to closethe salethis month. My month so farhas been rough, but with this listing, things arestarting tolookup.
The recording starts, and with abigsmile, I begin towalk down the stairs, the steps creaking softly under my feet. But once again,my phonestartsringing, piercing the quiet.
"For fuck’s sake," I scream.
There is no one to hearso I let rip.I wait forthe phonetostop, leaving me with my frustrated image and the glaring red record button.I’m pretty sure it’s only Derek from the office.The phone stops and ten seconds pass before it starts ringing again.Surely hewon’t callmorethan three times.Silence descends andI am sure thathe has given up on me, but asI try to reach for the phone once again to start recording, yet another call comes in.My frustration boilsoverandI rip off the duct tape and answer the call.
"Are you freaking kidding me?" It is so noisy in the background, and I can't understand why.
"Derek! Stop freaking calling me; you're going to make me lose my mind."
"Why aren't you picking up?" he asks. "I've been trying to reach you."
"I'm working," I reply. "I'm freaking recording, and I need my phone, and you've been interrupting me for the past thirty minutes."
"I'm sorry, but this is a hundred times more important."
"Whatis it?" I ask, realizing for the first time hownoisythe backgroundon Derek’s end is.
"Well,something big, really big hasjust happened at the agency, and yourdad wants you back right now."
I frown. "What’s happened?"
"I can't tell you why.It's a surprise."
“Look. Stop playing games with me, Derek,and just tell me.I want to finish this video before I get back to the office.”