I opened up my computer, browsing casually through the emails there and checking to see if there were any major developments.
One of my rapper clients was insistent that I put in a lowball offer on an Oakland mansion, no matter how many times I tried to explain to him that no one would take it. Bay Area real estate was a beast of its own, which was why I’d been so keen on tackling it. The housing prices here were insane, which meant the commissions were equally insane, but the business was absolutely cutthroat.
Add to that the fact that I was competing with Henrietta Lin, who, although she wasn’t nearly the sort of famous face that I was, had cornered the market up here years before and still had a pretty strong foothold.
But I was working on that. Soon enough, I’d be a serious competitor, taking even the older, more well-established clients, and working to bring in the tech guys who currently resided in tiny apartments in San Francisco. My plan was to convince them to branch out, to buy some of those four million dollar homes down in Los Gatos, and to start planning for their future with a family.
None of the other emails were in the least bit compelling, which left me to sit back with my thoughts, thinking about the little encounter I’d had that morning with Sarah. I kept seeing her face in my mind, floating past as she glared at me.
And then, the way her expression had softened when I’d said her name and she realized that I did, in fact, remember her from the party, and I wasn’t a total asshole.
Something about her was sticking with me in the strangest way. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I knew one thing.
I needed to get to know her.
I didn’t have any way to contact her, unless social media counted. But I also didn’t want to be that creepy guy who stalked her friends’ social media accounts just to find her and send her a completely out of the blue message. I knew that was how a lot of people communicated these days, but it had always struck me as such a strange thing to do. It took away the true connection of everything, like in the world of dating before technology. If a guy ran into a woman like I’d run into Sarah and wanted to figure out how to contact her, he’d have to go through her friends.
So, that was exactly what I would do.
Not Bella, of course, but Logan would probably be open to helping me out. Of course, I had to remind him that I wasn’t such a big player anymore in order to get him to do so.
It was something I admired about Logan. He was protective of his friends, and I knew he’d be extremely careful about letting anyone get close to Sarah.
I was just about to pick up my phone when there was a hard, frantic knock on my door. Before I could say anything else, Javier, my personal assistant and all around do it all guy, burst into the room, with his hair messed up and sweat pouring down his face like he’d just run a marathon.
“Leslie quit,” he gasped out, doubling over as he tried to regain his breath.
“What?” I demanded, knowing what I’d heard but hardly believing it with my own ears.
“Leslie… quit,” he repeated.
Now, if I had been in Miami and had an accountant of Leslie’s relatively low caliber, I wouldn’t have cared. In fact, I probably would have let her go months ago when I realized she wasn’t at all up to the task.
But San Francisco was a different story. I’d arrived here only to discover that the world of finance was absolutely cutthroat. All of the best accountants had already been snatched up by massive, well-established clients who offered them things like work from home options and nap pods to use at any time during the day.
I didn’t offer any of that. Call me old fashioned, but I believed that people needed to be in the office, working, while they were at work.
So, that meant I was stuck with accountants who were far more desperate for a job. The problem?
Those accountants weren’t always the greatest. And yet, I still couldn’t stand to lose one of them, because even a sometimes incompetent accountant was better than no accountant at all. I was absolutely useless with numbers, and there was no way in hell I’d ever be able to do all of the work for my real estate and development businesses.
“Crap,” I groaned, leaping from my desk and racing to follow Javier back out the door. For now, Sarah would have to wait.
Leslie was at the end of the hall, stumbling out of her office with a heavy-looking box filled with all of her things.
“Leslie,” I called out, marching up to her and using my firmest, most bossy voice. “What are you doing?”
“I… am… quitting,” she replied, running out of breath as she attempted to shoulder the weight of the box and simultaneously close her office door.
“Why?” I demanded, not stepping forward to help her. As rude as it may have been, I was hoping that my lack of interest in being chivalrous might make her drop the box altogether and give up this strange idea of quitting that she had.
“Because,” she huffed, finally setting the box down on a nearby table and rounding on me with her hands on her hips, staring me down with angry brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black.
I waited, fully expecting some sort of explanation would follow that answer, but none came. Like always, Leslie was speaking in partial sentences.
“Because what?” I prompted, casually setting my hand on top of the box in hopes that it would discourage her slightly.
But unfortunately, it did no such thing.
“Because that man in there will not do a thing to hear me out,” she replied in annoyance. “He is mansplaining everything, and I can’t stand it anymore. This is the twenty-first century! I am done being treated like a complete imbecile just because I’m in possession of a vagina, and he’s got a penis!”
“Mansplaining?” I responded, catching Javier’s vigorous head shake when it was far too late.
Leslie’s eyes popped wide open, and she gasped in indignation as if it should be a federal crime that I was unaware of this term.
“How dare you!” She replied angrily. “Yes. Mansplaining. And I can’t take it anymore. So I won’t. Have a good day.”
And with that, she snatched her box back and stampeded out of the office.
Leslie was gone. And I was down a barely decent accountant in a city in which accountants were basically gold.
“I cannot deal with this today,” I groaned. I turned to look at Javier. “Find a replacement. Please.”
“Yes, boss,” he replied quickly.
I disappeared back into my office, taking a calming breath as I reentered the space.
Thank God Bella had designed such a perfect sanctuary for me to relax in.
I went back and sat behind my desk, putting my feet up once again, but this time, I didn’t turn my computer back on. I needed to take a breath and focus on myself.
Logan. I’d been about to call him and ask about Sarah and, more specifically, what he thought about the two of us exploring some type of relationship. Hopefully, the conversation would go well, and I’d end up with her phone number.
I picked up my phone and clicked on his contact, waiting for a couple of rings before he picked up.
“Hey, what’s up?” He asked with a laugh. “I saw your picture splattered all over Twitter this morning.”
“Yeah,” I groaned. “Those damn paps, dude. They really are not great people.”