As much as she usually hated the gesture, Roxy used air quotes around the words “more experience.” It was a phrase she had heard more than once over the past few months. In each of those cases, she had been expecting to receive a signed buyer’s or seller’s agreement from the clients that would have ultimately resulted in a respectable commission from a home sale. Instead, they either suddenly dodged her calls or told her they had decided to work with another agent.
This one, in particular, was a sale Roxy had been banking on. The Andersons had been handed to her directly from her agency’s broker, Arnie Daulton. The home the Andersons were selling was pristine and in an excellent location. In the competitive market they were currently experiencing, the listing would have been an easy sale that would have netted Roxy almost five figures in commission.
Darcy rose from her chair and walked over to place a consoling hand on Roxy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Rox.”
“Thanks,” she said, fighting the urge to kick the side of Ava’s desk. “I just don’t get it. We clicked so well when we met. Geneva went to the same high school I did. We bonded over war stories from Ms. Gleason’s biology class. She would have signed the agreement with me right then and there if it wasn’t for Morton having to work late. It was a standard sale. What special experience is it they think I need?”
Darcy sat on the edge of Ava’s desk. “Did you ask them?”
“Yeah. Morton didn’t have a good answer. He just said they had talked with someone who was a better fit.”
“Ugh.”
“Yeah.”
Shaking her head, Darcy once again reached out and patted Roxy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. Trust me, I’ve been there. It can be one word or phrase that somehow makes them think you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Roxy rubbed her forehead as her frustration eased into a gathering headache. “I just wish I knew what that word or phrase was. I’ve got the lingo down pat. I’ve been studying probate law and typical procedures for nearly every type of real estate matter for months. If this had been a complicated sale, I’d understand their decision. But this…it just makes no sense.”
“Maybe the guy has an issue working with females,” Ted chimed in as he hung up his phone.
Darcy nodded. “I’ve encountered that more times than I like to admit.”
Roxy supposed that was possible. She hadn’t actually gotten to meet Morton since he missed their in-person meeting due to an unexpected work thing. Maybe he felt more comfortable working with a man.
Hell, maybe all it had taken was an in-person meeting with another agent that Morton had been able to attend to turn the tide against her. A key part of a successful client-agent relationship was that personal connection. If Morton met with someone he liked and he was the decision-maker in the family, that’s all it would have taken.
“Shit,” she sighed.
“You know what?” Darcy said, pushing to her feet. “Fuck ‘em. You’ll get the next one because you’re a fellow Badass Real Estate Bitch. Let’s forget about this and go get some drinks.”
Roxy hesitated.
“On me,” Darcy pressed.
That made it entirely too tempting. But Roxy still had work she really wanted to get done while she had the agency’s resources, and this lost commission was devastating to her budget. She needed to bust her ass to figure out a way to make up for that loss.
“I appreciate it,” she said at last. “But can I take a raincheck?”
“Of course you can. Just say the word when it works for you.”
“Thanks.”
“Any time.” Darcy walked over to their shared desk. “I was actually about to head out. You sure I can’t change your mind?”
Roxy shook her head. “I appreciate it though.”
“I’ll walk you to your car, Darcy,” Ted offered. “I was just packing up myself.”
Darcy glanced at Roxy. “Are you okay here on your own?”
“Sure. I can lock up.”
“Okay.” Darcy logged off her MLS account and pulled her purse out of one of the desk drawers. “But, hey, don’t spend too much time here. I’m all too aware that a lost potential commission can sit in your craw, but tomorrow’s a new day.”
Roxy managed a smile. “You’re right. Thanks.”
She followed Darcy and Ted to the office’s glass front door and locked it behind them, waving at them through the glass as they departed.
Once she was alone, she let her smile drop.
What the hell was she going to do?
Morton told her that he and Geneva had already contracted with the other agent. That meant there was nothing she could ethically do to win their business at this point.
A month or two ago, she probably would have tried to schedule some time with Arnie to get his help. But the broker she had chosen to contract with hadn’t proven to be the leader she had hoped. He was largely removed from the day-to-day activities of the agency, only showing up at the office when it was required of him. The requests Roxy put forth to meet with him had resulted in redirection to consult with Darcy. Granted, Darcy knew what she was doing. But Roxy had hoped to get more guidance from someone of Arnie’s renown in the industry. It was one of the key reasons she chose his brokerage.
Even if she did manage to get Arnie to take her call, was there anything he could tell her to fix this problem?
She closed things down on Ava’s computer, made sure Ava’s desk was how she had left it, and went back over to the desk she shared with Darcy. She sat in the chair and stared at the computer monitor as though it would provide her some insight.
But her brain just kept fixating on the lost commission.
“Come on, Roxy,” she told herself. “You can figure this out. You’re broke, not helpless.”
Despite the personal pep talk, she felt herself slipping into despair. She felt like she kept hitting obstacle after obstacle on her new career path. Perhaps she had gone into this a little too full throttle, but what was the point in doing anything half-assed?
If she had exercised more caution, her dark inner voice whispered, she might have reserved some of her funds so she wasn’t in this position.
Her teeth clamped together as tears of frustration gathered behind her eyes. Determined not to cry, she drew in a deep breath through her nose and let it out through her mouth, repeating the process several times.
On her third breath, her cellphone rang. She picked it up, saw who was calling, and shook her head.
The woman always knew.
“Hi, Daj,” she greeted her grandmother as she answered the call.
“What’s wrong, chavi?”
Her grandmother called all of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren chavi, the Romani word for child. She was highly attuned to her family and nearly always seemed to know when someone needed assistance. The family had come to rely on her abilities over the years. Roxy, in particular.
“Just between us, okay?” Roxy said.
“Of course. Now tell me.”
She did, explaining about the efforts she had undertaken to get herself fully trained on Georgia real estate law and how that training hadn’t stopped some very promising clients from signing with other agents whom the clients felt were more experienced. She mentioned how her only unassisted sale so far had been for a friend, and the commission from that sale was long gone. And she talked about what this most recent loss meant as far as her income, ending with how dire things seemed.