Page 2

Jack

An hour later, we returned to the dining room.

Between us, Willow and I had shown Graham the large primary bedroom with two connecting walk-in-wardrobes, its wall to floor storage and the large en-suite bathroom with a sunken bathtub built for two.

We’d shared the orangery in the garden with a white kitchenette laced with brass fixtures and fittings, windows and surfaces covered by climbing plants.

I was excited to present such a beautiful property. If it had been within budget and if I had a need for it, I’d be snapping it up myself.

Graham was keen to view every inch of the property with minute detail.

I’d have understood it if he was being cautious, spending anything over a couple of hundred pounds required pause for thought, never mind in the region of ￡1.

6 million. However, his gaze only followed Willow, his hums a response to only her comments.

It was irritating and I was ready for this meeting to end.

Now seated at the dining table, Graham spread himself across from Willow, taking up space he clearly felt he was owed, one leg crossed over the other.

“So, Graham, the guide price is ￡1.6 million. If you’re happy to put an offer in, I can call the seller an—”

“What I want to know,” Graham interrupted, and I struggled to hold back an eye roll and sigh, “is whether this is worth the buy, worth the investment.” He sat back in his chair, arching his neck and lolling his head around his shoulders to get a good look at the room.

He finished, landing his sights on Willow who sat diagonally to him.

“Miss Thornton,” he hummed, “give me your thoughts, is this the one for me?”

I refrained from turning to Willow, internally screaming all the cliche answers I was desperate for her to use.

She wasn’t trained to sell properties – she hadn’t wanted to be, insisting she was content as my assistant.

She didn’t look at me, an ideal choice since I was sure my eyes were wide, a silent desperation to say the right thing.

If she glanced my way, Graham would follow and see the fear written all over my face .

“I think this is a property with a lot of interest, businessmen like yourself moving up from London, away from the hustle and bustle of the capital city but still with excellent city connections. It’s rare to find a perfect combination between historical character and modern, this has all of that and more.

There’s cosy corners, open spaces for entertaining and high-end security features.

As I say, we’ve had lots of interest, but we brought it to you first, knowing how important a beautiful home and privacy is to you.

” She started to pull a tablet out of her bag.

“If you’re not interested, we can always speak to other buyers on the waiting li—” Graham held his hand up to stop her, which she did.

He tilted his head, giving her a patronising smirk and narrowed his eyes.

“I never said I wasn’t interested, I just want to make sure it’s worth the interest—” He bit his lip and shifted his attention to me. “So, there’s other buyers?” I nodded.

“We have a number of eager buyers sitting on the waitlist ready to snap this up. Cash buyers at that.” I confidently held his stare. I could see Graham’s cogs moving, trying to suss the lies. Kevin nervously bounced his head between us, waiting to see who would fold first.

“One-point-five and I’ll pay cash,” he declared after a long silence.

Willow collected her phone from the table, dialling the seller. Graham glared at me as she discussed his offer through the ebbs and flows of the call. Only when she said his name to capture his attention, did he return his gaze to her.

“Buyers have accepted your offer.” He broke into a shit-eating grin, clapped his hands and pushed the chair back from the table to stand up.

“Excellent, my people will be in touch.” My people – who says that outside of the Mafia ?

We all stood. Kevin pushed his chair back with a loud screech against the hardwood floor and Graham rounded the table and clasped my one hand in his two.

“Jack, I appreciate your assistance, it really is a beautiful home.” He nodded at Willow behind me and marched out of the dining room and front door. Kevin rushed after him like a lamb following its mother, scared to be forgotten about. With a final click of the front door, we were alone again.

A shocked silence fell over us, both staring at the whirlwind Graham and Kevin had left in.

“We did it,” I whispered. A hand clapped on my shoulder, and I turned, finding Willow beaming up at me.

“Jack! You smashed it!” she squealed and pulled me in for a hug. I returned it with one arm around her shoulders and a bubbling laugh. Pulling back, we shared broad grins .

I shook my head at her, shocked at her flogging abilities. “Holy shit Willow, where did you get that from?!”

“I learned from the best, six years working under you I know everything I’m ever gonna need to, when it comes to selling at least.” She smiled, collecting her bag and phone, pushing the chair back into the table while I stood there frozen.

Working under you, Jesus Christ I’m going to hell.

Snapping back to reality, I found she’d left the room and was heading to the car.

Returning my chair to its rightful place, I sped out of the house after her, locking the house up.

Willow rested against the passenger door of my black Jaguar F-Type pulling her personal phone out of her briefcase, switching it on.

I unlocked the car and we both entered. In her lap, her phone vibrated. She turned it over, glanced at the screen and silenced it.

I pulled out of the gravel driveway and onto the gated estate main road, her phone vibrated again. Like before, she checked the screen, silenced it and returned it to her lap.

“Take the call. Pretend I’m not here,” I suggested. Again, the phone vibrated screaming out for her attention. “Sounds like someone is trying to get hold of you.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said in a clipped tone. Knowing women well enough by now, I knew ‘fine’ never actually meant fine , but it wasn’t the time to argue.

“Still on for a late lunch? We can finalise the plans for the gala.”

The Estates Gala was an annual gala led by Lambert & Johnson to raise money for a charity.

This year, they were raising money for Sanctuary, a local homeless charity focused on providing shelter and employment to those on the street.

Estate agencies across the Tyne and Wear and Northumberland were invited to raise as much money as possible.

Plus, co-workers could enjoy a glitzy night and win a range of prizes.

Beside me, Willow nodded, a new smile creeping at the sides of her lips as she gazed out of the windscreen lost in thought.