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“Apparently, she doesn’t know the billionaire.”
My head snaps back.“What?”
Anna shrugs.“Whyelsewould they ask our agency to handle that kind of property? It’s completely out of our league…unlessit was a direct recommendationfrom one of Sasha's high-end clients,or even from one of her friends in the bigger agencies. It makes sense. She’s Russian, he’s Russian."
Ireach for the plate of pizza."Who careswhy the job came to our agency?We really need this."
"Yes, we do.It’s not going to be easy.I hear billionairesare a pain to deal with.I just hopeand prayshe'll be able to pull it off."
"She will," I reply. "We'll all help her as much as we can."
"Lara!" I hear a call from across the room and seemy father. Helookseven more giddy than everyone present. It has been months since I have seen him look anything even remotely close tohappy, let alone this almost unhingedjoy. Just earlier that morning, I had been concerned he wouldn'tevencome to workbecause helooked soblue anddejected.Nowhe is positively beamingand who can blame him? This is the light atthe end of the tunnel for us.Irunoverto himand accept his bear hug.
“Oh, Dad,” I whisper.
"You've heard?" he asks.
I nod and grin at him. "Yes, Dad, I've heard. I’ve heard.”
"Okay, we're about tomake thecall now.Tofind outmore details."He turns to theother staff. "Everyone, gather round and quiet down. Sasha, are you ready to make the call?"
"Yes, Mr. Fitzpatrick," Sasha replies.
I send her a happy smile.
Everyone gathers around and quiets down, and Sashatakes her seat with Joshua behindher shoulders for moral support. She says a quick, quiet prayer and then puts the phone on speaker.
It instantly begins to ring. Itoccursto mesuddenlythat we have celebratedevenbefore the negotiation call has even been made, but it is endearing nonetheless.
"Greta Schmidt speaking?" a woman answers. She has a cool professional voice and a strong German accent.
"Hello, this is Sasha Kuznetsov. I am from Fitzpatrick & Co. We were contacted earlier about a Park Avenue listing and given your number as a contact…"
"Ah, yes…I am Mr. Ivanovich’s PA, and you will be dealing with me on this matter. He would like to schedule an appointment to view the property in question in the next two days."
"Next two days?” Sasha repeats and winces because she knows it will take time to connect with the seller’s agent and stage the house properly to show it at its best.
At this response, the lady goes briefly silent, and my heart jumps. As I look around, I can see the nervousness in everyone's eyes. Sasha most definitely doesn't miss this either.
“Is that not possible?”Greta Schmidt’s voice is cold and disapproving.
“Of course, it is possible,”Sasha says quickly.“It willbe ready. I'm at your service.When wouldMr. Ivanovich like to see it?Anytime at all. Even now.”
Greta allows herself a small almost mocking laugh. “There are two spaces in Mr. Ivanovich's calendar. How does tomorrow sound?"
Sasha’s eyes glitter with excitement. "Tomorrow is wonderful.”
“What time?”
“3.00 p.m. sharp. Please do not keep Mr. Ivanovich waiting.”
“We'll be ready."
"Good.”
"Thank you," she says, and just like that, the call comes to an end. For a long minute, no one speaks or even moves, and then once again the entire office erupts into chaos—smiles, celebrations, and congratulations. Irush headlonginto my father'schest.
Suddenly the phone begins to ring again. We almost miss it, but Derek is alert enough toyell for us to be quiet. Sasha scrambles for her phone and picks it up, clearly out of breath with excitement.