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Exclusively Yours
He wanted to, so badly.
They’d moved outside. It was a dull night. Gray clouds walled off the moon. He was stretched out on a lounge chair. She sat at the pool’s edge, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles.
“My aunt pushed me into it,” she said in response to a question he’d forgotten asking. “I came home with a flyer one day and she went nuts. She thought I had a chance.”
“It might not have paid off—”
“It didn’t,” she said bitterly. “A lot of time and money wasted only to place as a runner up when it really counts.”
“You won a car. Most kids have to slave away at a fast-food restaurant to afford a used clunker.”
To hear her tell it, she’d wasted her entire life. And he suspected she was hanging on to her old car out of pride rather than necessity.
“Tell me you won’t look up any more photos.”
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear.”
She sighed. “I give up.”
He tried to reassure her. “I’m a little obsessed with you. What can I say?”
“I’m really not that interesting.”
“I disagree.”
She sat straight and solemnly confessed. “I put stock in all the wrong things. It’s a thing with me.”
He liked that she trusted him enough to share her weaknesses. “And I like complicated women. That’s my thing.”
“Like Marisol?” she asked.
Talk about territorial.
“Not like Marisol. But wasn’t it good to go up against her tonight?”
“So good!”
She smiled. A dimple appeared in her left cheek and vanished. He’d never seen it before. The more he studied her, the more secrets there were to discover.
“Do you think your client spent his nights this way?”
“By the pool?”
She nodded. “Talking.”
“Not likely,” he said. “Did I mention he’s a dick?”
“Then why fight so hard for him?”
“That’s the business, Leila.”
Just when he was sure she’d written him off as a heartless bastard, she surprised him with a question.
“How does it feel to win?”
“You’ll tell me someday.”
To most people he was the golden boy, born under a lucky star. “Success follows you,” an old boss once told him. Only he knew the effort that he put into building his career, and the skill it required to make it seem effortless. Leila had drive. He had no doubt she’d turn her luck around.
“Why are you single, Nick?”
It seemed that all the earlier questions had been leading to this one.
“Because I want to be.”
Such was his nature. He was bloodless in negotiations and unsentimental with women, but to his mind, these were positives. He didn’t have a ton of emotional baggage to weigh him down. You only had so many years to fully dedicate to work, and he had no intention of wasting them. He’d seen friends, men and women alike, make the mistake of settling down early only to get bogged down with kids and family obligations. But Leila was a mistake he was very willing to make.
“Have you ever had a broken heart?”
There was real hunger and curiosity in her dark eyes.
“When I was a kid I wanted a dog, but my dad is allergic. He got me fish instead.”
She looked confused, but played along. “That’s not a fair tradeoff. Fish don’t fetch or wag their tails when you get home from school.”
“Tell that to a marine biologist.”
“I see,” she said. “So your dad got you fish and what? You met a girl who also had an aquarium?”
“No. My dad got me fish and they died, surprisingly fast, even by fish standards.”
“Did you kill them?”
“I have a heart, Leila.”
“What does it beat for?”
Oh, babe...
They locked eyes. She turned away.
“Are you seriously telling me that your biggest heartache was having to flush away a few fish?”
“I’m telling you that I learned very early that I was better off alone. I’m not sure I’m the better for it. Do you understand?”
“More than you know.”
“Who broke your heart?” he asked.
“Ah!” She gave his question some thought. “My high school boyfriend stood me up for prom, and that was the end of it. I cried for one month straight. Lost ten pounds. Gained back twenty. I was a mess.”
“You’re so pretty. Who would stand you up?”
“There’s always someone prettier.”
She was quiet for a while. Then she gracefully rolled onto her bare feet, stepped into her high heels and approached him. Her dress gathered at the waist with a knot. Untie the knot and there you had it.
“I should get going,” she said.
“I’ll walk you out.”
“No, don’t.”
He questioned her silently. She fell into a pile of excuses. “It’s late. You have to lock up. I can see myself out. I’ll see you in the morning. Okay?”
It wasn’t okay. Was this how they were going to play it? Circling the well, careful not to fall in. He wasn’t cut out for the Romeo-Juliet thing. But he had to let her go. It was past midnight and his self-control was down to the barest of wires.
He stood and faced her. “What did I tell you about worrying about my feelings?”
She looked him in the eye. “It’s too late for that.”
Chapter 6
Every minute they spent together, Leila felt Nick circling around her, very strategically stripping her of her defenses. As of last night, he knew almost all her secrets and yet she still had questions. Where did he live? What did he do when he wasn’t working? Was he really single or just sleeping around? And, the next day, at their morning meeting, a new question popped up. What was the true purpose of all those trips to New York?
Greg had stopped by Nick’s office. He was the only other African American at the agency. Despite his frat boy ways, Leila liked him.
“Heard you had a great turnout last night,” he said. “I got a client who might be interested.”
Leila and Nick were on the couch, reviewing his calendar. Nick said, “Leila, please get Greg up to speed.”
Greg looked surprised. “So...what’s up, Leila?”
“As of nine o’clock this morning, the Bayshore property is in escrow.”
Greg whistled. “Good work, man. Congratulations.”
Nick threw up his hands with false modesty. “I try.”
“And that’s why she wants you back.”
Leila waited until Greg had left before asking what he’d meant.
“Who knows?” He turned his attention to the computer tablet resting on his lap.
Her chest tightened with anger. He was lying.
“Want to get out of here?” he asked.
“Oh, yes.”
That was all it took. He was forgiven.
* * *
Nick had a listing appointment with the owner of a condo on Collins Avenue. It wasn’t the sort of meeting he’d take his assistant to, but he’d grab any excuse to be alone with Leila. When he stopped in front of the building located directly across the street from the high-end mall where she used to work, she shook her head and murmured, “Of course.”
He pulled up to the valet and cut the engine. “What?”
She pointed to the sign. Bal Harbour Shops. The crisp white letters stood out against a black backdrop. “Maybe I should go say hello to my old boss. You never know. If this real estate thing doesn’t work out.”
“It’ll work out,” he said. “You’re learning from the best.”
He got out of the car and went around to open her door. She stepped out and said, “I thought Tony was the best.”
He tried to laugh at the joke, but couldn’t. “Now you’re trying to start something.”
Before they went inside, Nick took a look at the building. It was wide and flat and looked like every other building on the street. They rode an elevator that jerked to a stop on the fifth floor.
“Feels old,” he said.
“It’s not so bad. The elevator in my building doesn’t work half the time.”
“Not so bad is not enough,” he said. “We’re here to appraise the apartment but also the building, and so far I’m not sold.”
A few feet down the hall, a woman stepped through a door. “Hey. I thought you were lost.”
Nick walked over and shook her hand. Turning to Leila, he said, “Carrie Hill, this is my assistant, Leila Amis.”
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