Page 3 of Unmasking Love (D.C. Renegades #1)

Harper

Keep Your Friends Close

I laugh as I open up the text. Felix has another assignment for me. I expect to get a separate text from him later with his parameters for this particular teammate.

"Hi New Teammate" I type, "I'm Harper and I'm excited to show you some of DC and NoVAs best properties :)"

I'm sure he'll reply soon and give me his real name.

I don't follow the team too closely but Felix came my way a few years ago and has been one of my top referring clients.

Over the summer he had me find a home for his best friend, Austin Thorne and his girlfriend, Maggie Collins.

I was never expecting to have a Thorne on my client list. Hopefully, he and Maggie start looking for a vacation property soon and I can help them out with that too.

I switch over to the MLS database and start pulling listings. Felix usually wants his teammates within a certain radius so that's the first filter I apply. I save a few and when my phone pings I'm expecting it to be the new teammate introducing himself.

But, instead, it's Felix.

FELIX:

Name: Aiden Youngren

Nickname: Young Gun

Position: Goalie, backup

Interests: Biking

Requirements: Tight . asS

I start laughing because it doesn't surprise me that Felix would know the man's preferences in a partner.

Radius, I meant tight radius. Caveman Duncan bumped into me while I was typing.

Tight radius because he's a flight risk.

Got it.

No I'm serious. I need to be able to see into his house because I'm worried he's not going to engage.

I can't sell him a house so you can watch him, that would make me an accomplice to your inevitable stalking conviction.

But I do it because I love them.

Case in point buddy.

Fine. But really we've gotta keep this boy close.

What did he say in his reply text?

He hasn't said anything yet.

Shit.

I gotta go. I'll fix this.

I set my phone back down on my desk and see it is almost lunch time. My boyfriend, Crispin Rothchild, and I haven't made plans but if we're both in the office we usually eat together.

Dating someone from work isn't always the brightest idea but with Crispin I made an exception. I noticed him noticing me when I first started as a rental agent a few years ago. I was seeing someone else at the time but I caught myself looking his way more than I’d like to admit.

He's attractive, but he's also the son of the group president so he's on every ad and flier that gets put out about our agency.

When things turned flirtatious between us at the summer outing this year, I agreed to be his date to a networking event.

When I told my mom she figured it wouldn't be the worst thing to be sleeping with the boss's son.

We don't have much time for real dates since we are often taking clients out on showings or having dinners to celebrate closings with the team. But I head over there most nights.

Well, some nights.

Every once in a while.

He's got an open house this weekend and I told him I would update his collateral materials so his latest sales would be included. I log in to our design software and get to work because I'd like to take it to him so we can review it together over the homemade lunch I prepared for him.

I send the design proof to him via email. I can see him through his open door from where my cubicle is. He's sitting at his desk looking at his phone.

When we started dating I rearranged my space so I could see into his office over my cubicle half walls to make sure I was ready whenever he needed something.

Crispin has introduced me to some of the finer things in life, like cold seafood towers at fancy dinner clubs and even though the shrimp cocktail made my hands itchy I’m glad we went out together last week.

It was our first date in a while and I enjoyed myself.

He was wearing a button down shirt and I liked the repeating mini lighthouse pattern on it.

I think he’s wearing the same shirt today.

Men love to hear you appreciate their fashion choices. Mom’s advice reminds me.

I’ll make sure to compliment it.

I make my way across the office and knock lightly on the door. His assistant, Raquel, is perched on the edge of his desk. I hadn’t seen her from my vantage point so I stop quickly and she pops up when she sees me walk in.

"Oh, you already have lunch," I say when I see the salad and sparkling water on his desk. I move my homemade lunch behind my back.

"Yes, Mr. Rothchild likes to eat right at noon." Raquel chirps, "Oh, I'm sorry, were you supposed to have lunch together? It wasn’t on his calendar. Did you need me to order something for you, too?"

It could be a nice gesture, it could be out of the kindness in her heart. But the way she says it, plus the judgemental flick of her eyes over my outfit, makes me feel about two feet tall. Like I'm playing pretend and she's indulging my fantasy.

"No, I was about to head out," I say, not thinking.

I wanted to eat lunch with my boyfriend.

But this whole situation is giving a "you don't belong here" vibe and I've never been comfortable with that.

"Can you take a look at the pamphlet I just sent you?

It's for Sunday. I can make any adjustments you'd like and then get it sent to the printer. "

"Thanks Harper, you didn't have to do that, I already had Raquel work on it this morning so we are all set."

"Oh, okay, well, enjoy your lunch. I'll see you later." I step backwards out of the room. It's great his new assistant is so helpful. I was only doing stuff for him because I know how overwhelmed he gets by the admin and backend tasks.

They don't exactly tell you when you start the licensing process that most of the job is paperwork and contracts.

You get sold on the idea of stagings, photoshoots, and showings.

I haven't risen high enough in the ranks for an assistant, but I can see the appeal of having an admin to do the little stuff for you.

I started out showing rental apartments in and around D.C.

There are a lot of temporary placements in this city so I was in high demand.

I made connections with the different property managers and they'd tell me when units would be coming up. This gave me the opportunity to put these apartments in front of my clients first. It’s all about making connections.

That's how I met Felix. He was leaving one of the rental properties and recognized my face from a flier that was posted in the building's lobby. He asked if I would find him a house because he was tired of not being able to touch grass every morning. When I laughed his face sobered.

I quickly schooled my features into a professional smile and gave him my card. I only had to show him two different homes before he picked the second one. We closed about a week later.

Felix started sending me his friends and teammates right after. Always asking they be kept close. I think he envisions hosting impromptu backyard bbqs for his teammates and their families.

Or he just really likes being the center of attention.

I sit down at my desk and look at the two sandwiches I had prepared this morning.

They're some of my best work with fresh sourdough bread, mustard, turkey, lettuce, and tomato only on mine since I know Crispin doesn't like it.

And as delicious as this looks, my appetite isn't what it was a few minutes ago .

I pick up my phone, push the lunch bag away, and call Wes.

"Didn't you make lunch for your man? Why are you calling me?" He answers.

I just sigh into the speaker.

"He had other plans, huh?"

"Yep, or, actually, his assistant Raquel ordered lunch for him." I tried so hard to say her name without dripping it with tween sarcasm.

"Isn't that part of her job?"

"Probably, but like, you talked to me last night while I waited for the bread to finish its final rise before baking so I could use it for the sandwiches today. I texted him a picture of the finished loaf. He gave it a thumbs up. I figured that was enough of a plan."

"So what are you doing for lunch?"

"I'm debating between a venti brown sugar latte and a cigarette or a half gallon of ice cream."

"Those are totally reasonable choices and not extreme at all," he deadpans.

Wes and I met a few years ago when I was dating a guy named Thad who invited me to join him on his recreational softball team. They needed girls on the roster. But that's about all he needed, turns out Thad batted for the other team, so the saying goes.

Wes was the one to point this out to me and he's taken me under his wing ever since.

Luckily, I haven't managed to get entangled with another gay guy but I haven't exactly been successful either. Even with Wes’s coaching, I haven’t had a relationship last longer than four months. It’s now a running joke and I laugh along but deep down I am desperate to make a man stick.

"I'm gonna take a drive and then I'll eat one of my sandwiches when I get back to my desk."

"Eat them both honey, you deserve it. "

I laugh. "What are you doing tonight?"

"I've got an investor dinner, some guy from Montana is flying in and taking a bunch of meetings.” Wes works for a venture capitalist and investment firm.

He spends his day taking meetings with either super wealthy people, or entrepreneurs who are on their way to being super wealthy with his investments.

“But we're bringing the puppies to the D.C. Renegades game opening night to promote Forever Home.” That’s the app his buddy, Holden Monaghan, started, and he invested in, that helps shelters match animals with volunteers and families.

“I got two tickets at ice level right next to their bench.

They want us to try and have the puppies watch some of the game for TV coverage opportunities. Plus the usual walking them around."

"Yeah sure, I'll go. Send me the date."

"Will do. Toodleloo!"

I laugh. "Bye Wes."

As I hang up my phone buzzes and I assume it’s Felix, or his new teammate, but it’s my mom.

MOM:

Harper, darling, we need to talk about Thanksgiving. Call me.

I push my sandwiches even further away. The loss of appetite turning into a sour stomach. I take a deep breath and let it out as I press her contact number.

“That was quick, are you not busy?” Mom asks instead of saying hello.

“Lunch break. So, what’s up? It’s not even Labor Day, why do we need to talk about Thanksgiving?” I ask quietly as I walk to my car.

“Don’t give me attitude.”

“Sorry. ”

“Walter and I will be hosting.”

Walter is mom’s latest husband. She started dating him in the new year when they met at his gym and she moved in by March. I haven’t had the chance to meet him yet. Thanksgiving will be the first time.

“Oh, that’s nice. What can I bring?”

“Nothing. You see, his kids don’t know I have a kid. Plus they’re bringing his grandchildren and it’s going to just be chaos. It’ll just be easier if we do something just the two of us. I was thinking about going down to the Keys. I booked us a suite at Little Palm.”

“Oh, okay, cool. Send me the details and I’ll block my calendar.

” I’m not sure how to even process everything she just dumped on me.

I climb into the driver’s seat and try to form questions.

Mom and Walter eloped in July. All I got was a picture text of them on a beach.

Her message said “I’m Mrs. Walter Waterson! ” and I reacted with a heart.

A few days later she called and told me everything. She was excited about her designer dress, the private oceanside dinner they enjoyed, and of course she described in detail all the amenities of the honeymoon suite.

I think back and I’m not sure I’ve ever spoken to Walter. Maybe he doesn’t know that I exist. Good thing I’ve learned not to get attached to mom’s beaus. These semi-annual trips are when we see each other now and it works for us.

“Perfect! So, how are you? How’s your boyfriend? It’s been what, three months?”

“Almost three, and he’s fine.”

“Just fine? You know by three months you should-”

“Mom, I’m at work, I can’t have this conversation right now. I gotta go.”

“Okay, bye darling!”

I hang up and close my eyes as my head falls back against the headrest. Mom makes finding a partner seem easy. I guess practice makes perfect. I saw how she worked her way into better living situations with each man over and over again. She thinks I’m going about it the hard way.

The hard way being dating instead of faking a burst pipe as an excuse to move in.

But, I want a lasting relationship built on trust. Someone who wants to take care of me, not feel obligated to. Someone who I want to care for too.