Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
"What's happening?" I ask curiously.
"Just get over here right now. How far away are you?" he asks.
"Half an hour.”
"Take a cab."
"Uh, we can afford cabs?"
"We can afford it!" he booms.
My eyebrows rise. "Really? Since when?"
"Lara, take a cab," he says and hangs up the phone.
My hand falls to the side. Wow! Something big must be happening. I leave my things as they are since I will have to come back anyway, lock the apartment, and head out. It doesn't take me long to find a cab, thankfully, but with the little late morning traffic, it takes me nearly twenty minutes to arrive back at our office.
Through the shop window, I see everybody gathered around the coffee table. My steps quicken because even though I’ve racked my brains during the whole journey here to imagine what this big mystery could be about, or why I couldn’t just be told over the phone, I came up with nothing. Maybe someone closed a deal, a huge deal, but even that is no reason to be so dramatic.
I stand at the door, bemused. The atmosphere is wild. Everyone is smiling and chatting away with plastic flutes of what seems to be champagne in hand, though it’s probably just cider or apple juice because we most certainly can't afford real champagne. Anna spots me. Waving, she hurries over and grabs me by the hand, pulling me in.
"The pizza's almost gone, but your dad saved you a couple of slices. They’re in the fridge with your name on it. There’s cake too."
This makes me smile. It's a small gesture, but it warms my heart because it is not often that my father is loving.
"Sasha's done it again," she says as we reach the fridge, "but for real this time."
Sasha is the lead agent in my father’s company. While I am always struggling to even get a deal, she finds and closes them effortlessly.
"What do you mean for real?" I ask as I dig my fork into the slice of cake.
"She just scored a huge client. When I say huge. I mean ginormous, mahoosive… humongous."
My eyes pop open. "She sold a house? Where?"
"No, she hasn't sold it yet," Anna replies.
Now I’m confused. "Then why the celebration?"
"A Russian billionaire wants our agency to represent him. The property in question is a seafront mansion in Southampton and it has a price tag of a hundred and twenty million. We couldn’t even dream of landing a listing like this,” she almost screams. “Do you understand now why we’re all so happy and excited? Just think of the commission. That’s like ten million shared between us and the seller’s agency.”
“Wow! That’s fantastic,” I cry. I’m impressed, happy and relieved, all at once. It means our agency can finally get into profit again. It was touch and go for a while there. No wonder Dad asked me to take a cab.
“Yes, it’s wonderful. Just wonderful,” Anna cries happily. “And we have Sasha to thank.”
I glance around at Sasha. She is flicking her long shiny blonde hair back and laughing. Her face is flushed with happiness. A part of me wishes I could bring home the sale like her. She makes it look so easy. “I didn’t know Sasha knew any billionaires.”
“Apparently, she doesn’t know the billionaire.”
My head snaps back. “What?”
Anna shrugs. “Why else would they ask our agency to handle that kind of property? It’s completely out of our league… unless it was a direct recommendation from one of Sasha's high-end clients, or even from one of her friends in the bigger agencies. It makes sense. She’s Russian, he’s Russian."
I reach for the plate of pizza. "Who cares why the job came to our agency? We really need this."
"Yes, we do. It’s not going to be easy. I hear billionaires are a pain to deal with. I just hope and pray she'll be able to pull it off. "
"She will," I reply. "We'll all help her as much as we can."
"Lara!" I hear a call from across the room and see my father. He looks even more giddy than everyone present. It has been months since I have seen him look anything even remotely close to happy, let alone this almost unhinged joy. Just earlier that morning, I had been concerned he wouldn't even come to work because he looked so blue and dejected. Now he is positively beaming and who can blame him? This is the light at the end of the tunnel for us. I run over to him and accept his bear hug.
“Oh, Dad,” I whisper.
"You've heard?" he asks.
I nod and grin at him. "Yes, Dad, I've heard. I’ve heard.”
"Okay, we're about to make the call now. To find out more details." He turns to the other staff. "Everyone, gather round and quiet down. Sasha, are you ready to make the call?"