Roxy nodded as they approached the bar. “Talk about an excellent connection. Lots of couples selling houses.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah, well, real estate isn’t always glamorous.”
Allison laughed. “Is it ever?”
“It can be.” Roxy paused to request Diet Cokes for her and Allison from the bartender. “You should have seen the house I showed Callan yesterday. My God, was it ever glamorous.”
“Nice! Is he going to put in an offer?”
Roxy thanked the bartender as she and Allison collected their drinks and moved off to the side. “No. It was too glamorous. More fit for a Hollywood starlet than an athlete.”
“Bummer.” Allison knew how much Roxy was counting on the commission from this sale. “Well, hopefully the next one, right?”
“Hopefully.”
She and Callan had been looking at houses for over a week but he still hadn’t found The One. She wasn’t too worried though. This was a major investment for anyone, never mind someone spending as much as Callan planned to. Just like with winging, it often took some time to find the right home match for a client. Darcy told her to expect most sales to go by the ten-ten rule. The average home buyer viewed ten homes over an average of ten weeks before finding the one they wanted to buy.
Roxy tried not to think about how she would make ends meet for that long. That put too much pressure on Callan, which wasn’t fair to him.
“Are we still on for tomorrow night to discuss this project of yours?” Allison asked.
“If you can make it. I’m excited to get your thoughts on it.”
Roxy was once again imposing on her marketing-savvy friend for help on an idea she had started developing after her conversation with Callan about the challenges NHL players faced when moving between cities and teams. While NHL teams usually had someone on their staff to support transitioning players, most players were left on their own to figure out housing.
She wanted to create a proposal to present to The Siege that would involve her services. She had built a solid network of contacts in the moving and travel industries over the years, and she had already done some outreach to gather information and gauge interest in possible partnerships that would make new player moves a seamless and painless process for everyone involved. Her goal was to become an invaluable resource The Siege offered to future new players.
For a fee, of course.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Allison said. “On that note, I’ll leave you to your networking. I just wanted to drop by and check on you.”
“Thanks, Allie.”
A resonant laugh drew Roxy’s attention as her friend walked off. She turned to see who had issued it.
And found herself staring right at Bentley Kamps.
Son of a bitch.
His eyes found hers as though he expected to. She guessed he had made a point of laughing loud enough for her to hear it.
But why? Had they met before? Had she said or done something to cause him to target her?
She didn’t think so. She never forgot a face, especially not one as stereotypically smarmy as his. The big, toothy smile. The tanning bed complexion. The carefully styled hair in a tight poof above his high forehead that attempted to draw attention to his eyes rather than his narrow chin.
What was he doing there? The event wasn’t targeted towards the real estate industry. If Roxy hadn’t been friends with Allison, she wouldn’t have even known about it.
Bentley must have his own contacts that led him there, she supposed. And since he somehow kept stealing her strongest leads, it appeared they had at least a few contacts in common. Now there he was, mingling with the prospects she had left before Allison approached her.
Was he attempting to undo her networking progress? Would he somehow manage to convince the people in the room that she wasn’t worthy of their time or business?
Well, fuck that. She would be damned if he would outperform her at this event.
She worked the room like she was campaigning for office. She collected cards. She listened to stories. She told relatable jokes. She discovered potential pinch points she could help solve. And she only talked about herself and what she did if someone asked her.
An hour later, she was confident she would hear from at least five of the hundred or so people she met, which she considered an acceptable ratio. Just as she was about to find Allison to thank her again for the invite, she felt a presence behind her, close enough that she smelled his expensive cologne.
There you are, she thought.
Turning, she came face to face with Bentley. She kept a polite expression in place, aware of the many people around them.
When she didn’t speak, his smile dimmed. He recovered quickly though.
“Hi,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Bentley Kamps.”
She took his hand, once again thinking of the eyes on them. The brief contact told her that his palm was smooth and his handshake firm.
“Hi, Bentley,” she said as she released his hand.
She didn’t bother introducing herself since she was wearing a nametag and his eyes had drifted to it several times. Or was he just looking at her breasts?
“I believe we have something in common, Ms. Wagner,” he said. “I understand you’re in real estate.”
“I’m quite sure you knew that before you ever stepped foot in this room.”
He didn’t even try to act surprised. “It is a rather tightknit community, isn’t it?”
“So it would seem.”
His mouth lifted in a smirk. “Well, there are a lot of fish in the real estate sea, so to speak. Plenty to go around.”
“Then why are you fishing in my pond?”
He laughed, the sound of it bouncing around the room and drawing more stares. “Please,” he said. “I’ve been working in this market for more than a decade, sweetheart. With my rep and portfolio, I hardly need to poach small business from bottom-feeders like you. But you keep that nice chip on your shoulder. It’ll work wonders to send more business my way.”
He reached out and patted her shoulder before waving at a guy in a suit and stepping over to greet him, leaving her to stew in silence as he dismissed her like she no longer existed.
* * *
She was still stewing as she sat at her bedroom desk reviewing listings later that night. Her mind wasn’t really on the work. It kept replaying the scene with Bentley in a mind-numbing loop.
Why hadn’t she seen it coming?
Why hadn’t she said something to put him in his place?
Why hadn’t she made the first move and approached him?
“He sounds like a perfect asshole,” her grandmother had declared earlier. “And assholes don’t deserve our energy.”
After leaving the networking event, Roxy had gone to help her grandmother prepare her reading room for the arrival of a couple of clients. Daj had invited her to participate in the readings to earn a little side money, which Roxy gratefully accepted. While they worked, she told her grandmother about her run-in with Bentley.
“He really is an asshole,” Roxy said as she smoothed soft silk over the reading table. “I’m telling you, Daj, he took my sales.”
“I believe you, chavi. I know the type. You ask me, that man made his millions by leeching off the hard work put forth by other people. Someone like him starts as he intends to go on.”