“Okay, then we can get started. The asking price is four million, and the house, as you know, is in excellent condition. That seems like a fair price to me.”
“Let the seller know I’m offering three and a half million,” he says dryly.
“That’s quite a bit below the asking price. I’m afraid my client won’t agree to that, but of course, I’ll present it. Is there somewhere I can make a call in private?” I ask.
After half an hour of back-and-forth calls, we settle on 3,775,000 euros, fully furnished, cash deal. Ibrahim is satisfied. He managed to get a price in line with what he was aiming for and was honestly relieved to have an excuse not to ship all his furniture to London. Andreas is pleased that he succeeded in lowering the asking price while also securing the furniture. I’m thrilled because this makes my entire year, both financially and professionally. It’s my first time negotiating in this price range, and everything went smoothly. I silently give myself a pat on the back for staying in perfect real estate agent mode.
“Thanks for the collaboration, Andreas. I’m glad we found an agreement that works for everyone. I’ll finalize the paperwork, and you can sign to make it official.”
“Thank you for giving me a second chance. I’ll call Bertrand to let him know he can stop house hunting for me. I’ll put him on speaker.”
“Sounds good,” I say as Andreas calls Bertrand.
“Bertrand, Andreas and Nora here, we’re just calling to let you know the deal is done, my offer has been accepted. I’ll sign the necessary papers here shortly. I want to thank you again because this villa was truly a unique find.”
“My pleasure! I didn’t have to do much, of course, you did all the work! What do you say, shall we celebrate together and toast to it. This week’s hectic, but next week works. Drinks and dinner are on me. It’s the least I can do after all your effort.”
“Sounds good, Bertrand. Next Wednesday evening works for me. The Rock-Fort?” Andreas looks at me to see if I’m free. I quickly check my calendar and nod that it’s okay. “Nora can also do Wednesday,” he adds.
“Then it’s settled for Wednesday, I’ll reserve at the Rock-Fort, 7 p.m., see you then!” Bertrand concludes.
“See you later.”
There’s nothing better than when “work” includes a fancy dinner. I gather the necessary documents and lay them out for Andreas to sign. I can’t believe we went from a disastrous tour to a successful purchase in just over 24 hours. Andreas steps close beside me. I show him where to sign. He takes a pen, quickly scans the document, and puts a small, firm signature at the bottom of the page. I watch, fascinated, as his large hands work without a single hesitation.
“All set,” I say, relieved.
I instinctively extend my hand to congratulate him. He takes my hand, and for the first time—in real life—we touch. His handshake is firm, deliberate, and it lingers just a moment too long. My body reacts immediately, a traitorous thrill running through me, reminding me far too vividly of last night. I blush, worried that my professionalism is slipping. Andreas still hasn’t let go, prolonging the electric tension. I try to pull my hand back, but he doesn’t allow it. He stares at our joined hands, seeming deep in thought, and then looks back up at me.
“Let’s celebrate the purchase with a drink. Stay for a bit.” Andreas lets go of my hand. Before I can even respond, he walks toward the built-in cabinets behind his desk.
It’s very hard to remind myself that Andreas is likely nothing more than a childish player. Tonight, unlike yesterday, is a professional and proper collaboration. I feel morally obligated to stay. After all, this is a significant purchase. One drink won’t hurt. Besides, it wasn’t really a question, more of a demand. I don’t feel like I can refuse this man anything. He slides open one of the cabinet doors, revealing a minibar. Clearly, this office has seen its share of celebrations.
“Wow, what a cool minibar, I’ll have to remember that if I ever redesign my office,” I say spontaneously, taking a few steps toward him.
A smile spreads across his face—the first time I’ve seen him smile so freely. The sight of it takes my breath away. It’s as if I’m seeing him for the first time. Butterflies stir in my stomach. He’s so much more handsome when he smiles. Handsome doesn’t even cover it. When he smiles, he’s undeniably irresistible.
“Absolutely, it’s essential for any self-respecting business owner,” he chimes in.
He speaks as though I’m his equal. I’m clearly not, but I appreciate that he’s making an effort to make it seem that way. He skillfully opens the champagne bottle and pours us each a glass. I take it, hoping it might help calm my nerves. I’m usually funnier and more relaxed with a little alcohol in my system. We toast to the purchase, locking eyes as etiquette dictates when our glasses meet. I can’t read him. His expression gives nothing away, and the smile from moments ago has been replaced by a dark, penetrating gaze. He says nothing, looking straight through me, making me feel exposed and vulnerable—just as I did last night. How many times can his gaze trap me like this? I’m unsure how to compose myself under his scrutiny. I feel both flattered and deeply uneasy.
“Congratulations,” I say finally, breaking the silence.
I bring the glass to my lips and take a long sip of champagne, deliberately interrupting the moment. Walking toward the window, I admire the view of the city, using it as an excuse to escape his intense presence. Andreas is intimidatingly attractive and makes me nervous. I can’t imagine ever winning a staring contest with him. As I walk to the window, I can feel his eyes still on me. I’m hyper-aware of how I’m walking, the sound of my heels, my posture, and I quickly wonder if the staring contest might have been better. Thankfully, this time Andreas breaks the silence himself.
“This purchase means a lot to me, I can’t thank you enough, Nora,” he says seriously.
“I should be thanking you too, Andreas, this sale is important for my career.” I might as well be honest. Selling a house like this isn’t something I do every day, especially since I’ve only just started in real estate. Straightening my shoulders with satisfaction and pride, I gaze out over the Bruges skyline. “You really have a stunning office here, so beautifully located in the heart of Bruges. You even have a view of the Belfry Tower. B-Tech develops software packages, if I remember correctly? I think I read an article about it not too long ago. Did you build the company entirely on your own?”
Before I fully realize it, Andreas is standing right behind me. My entire body reacts to his proximity again. Goosebumps rise on my skin, though I feel uncomfortably warm all of a sudden. We both look out the window. He’s standing so close behind me that I can feel his breath on my neck when he answers.
“I did start the company on my own, about five years ago now. It all happened very quickly, I’m surrounded by amazing people, and sometimes I still can’t believe everything we’ve achieved in such a short time.”
“You should be proud, it’s truly admirable to build such a successful company from scratch.”
“Don’t forget that success also brings trouble. I can’t say I’m proud of everything I’ve done,” he says grimly.
Somewhat startled by his words, I turn around. His expression has darkened, and his gaze seems distant. He’s clearly lost in thought. A chill runs through me as I wonder what burdens Andreas carries. In mere seconds, he shifts from powerful and intimidating to lost and vulnerable. People often say it’s lonely at the top, and his expression seems to embody that sentiment perfectly. The Andreas I couldn’t stand yesterday—the one I mentally accused of being a womanizer—suddenly feels much more human. I can sense his pain, and an inexplicable urge to comfort him stirs within me.
