I blink a few times as I ponder this. “Realtors all over the city make up more than half my clientele,” I explain. “They’re my bread and butter.”
“I’m aware,” she replies, “which is why I’m offering you a retainer. You can name your price, whatever you think is reasonable, and we’ll negotiate from there. Take some time to think about that before we chat again tomorrow.”
My stomach is backflipping. A regular retainer would take away the stress of slow periods, when I still have to pay rent for the office space, not to mention salaries and bank fees.
“It’s an interesting proposition. I look forward to talking more about it.”
Her voice takes on a light and cheerful note. “Great! I can’t wait to meet you. I’m so excited to think about colors and fabrics and new furniture for this place. It’s been feeling so drab lately. It’s definitely in need of a facelift.”
“I’m your girl,” I tell her.
She thanks me, and we say goodbye. Slowly, I set the phone receiver back into its cradle on my desk and start to feel like I’m floating out of my chair. Did that really just happen? Did Liz Tremblay ask me to redecorate her South End mansion and do all the staging for Ten Millennium? With a retainer?
Then it hits me—that this is a total game changer for me. I leap out of my chair, run around my desk, and burst out of my office, into the reception area. “You’re not going to believe what just happened,” I say to Gretchen behind the front desk.
Jennie comes out of the studio. “What’s going on?”
I look at them both in turn. “Liz Tremblay just called, and she wants us to decorate her house and, get this ... to be theexclusive stagersfor Ten Millennium. On retainer.”
They each gape at me with wide eyes.
“Seriously?” Gretchen says.
“Seriously,” I reply.
“That’s not just residential houses,” Jennie adds. “It’ll include all her husband’s commercial developments as well because she represents those too. We’re talking office towers and conference centers.”
“I know!” I reply with laughter.
They move in for a group hug, and we jump up and down in revelry. This goes on for a few fabulous seconds until the sound of the chime on the entrance door snaps us out of our merrymaking.
Quickly regaining a sense of professionalism, Jennie makes a U-turn toward the studio, and Gretchen returns to her chair behind the reception desk. With my back to the door, I tuck a lock of hair behind one ear, take a breath, and turn around.
It’s Nate. He’s twenty minutes early. I know this because I’ve been conscious of every second on the clock since 9:00 a.m., even while I was talking to Liz.
Wearing a black linen button-down shirt and faded blue jeans, his dark hair tousled from the wind, he’s strikingly handsome. What is it about this man that arrests me on the spot? It’s only been a few days since we met, but my blood is racing. Every minute I’ve spent with him has been intoxicating—from our deep conversations to the delicious food he’s cooked for me and the way he kisses. I feel such a strong attraction to him it makes my head swim.
Still feeling giddy, I can’t wait to tell him about the phone call with Liz Tremblay.
“Hi,” he says, looking apologetic as he glances around the reception area. “I’m a bit early. I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
I smile broadly. “Your timing couldn’t be better. Welcome.” I approach him, rise up on my tiptoes, and kiss him on the cheek—which doesn’t feel strange or inappropriate after our make-out session on his sofa the night before.
I turn to Gretchen. “This is Nate.”
“You picked a good day to come for a tour,” she says. “We’re pretty happy around here.”
Nate looks at me. “Happy is good. What’s going on?”
I take him by the hand. “Come with me. We’ll start the tour in my office, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
I feel Gretchen watching us with interest as I lead Nate across reception and into my office, where I close the door behind us. I turn and face him. “Do you know who Liz Tremblay is?”
“Of course. Santa Claus has a landing strip on her front lawn.”
I smile. “That’s right, and today feels like Christmas because she just called and asked me to decorate her whole house and ...” I pause and hold my hands up. “Get this ... she’s offering me a retainer to be theexclusivestager for her real estate company.”
Nate lays his hand over his chest, as if I’ve shot him with an arrow. “You’re joking.”
