Page 63 of Out of the Shadow

“Oh, God. You have no idea.” She laughs. “And why would you? You’ve partied with her. I had the audacity to move here and open a competing business.”

“Competition is good. Keeps you on your toes.”

“Believe me, Poppy doesn’t see it that way.” She plays with the ends of her hair. “Right when I first started, I unwittingly ‘stole’ one of her buy-side clients, and she’s had it out for me ever since.”

Her air quotes—and what I know of Angie—tell me this truly was unintentional. I inhale. She’s right. It’s always been Poppy’s way or the highway. I never cared before because I never saw the human cost. It all seemed harmless. Not anymore. I pledge to smooth Angie’s way into the upper-crust of the Hamptons. Poppy needs to understand she doesn’t have a stranglehold on who comes into “her” town.

Kaitlyn calls us over to the front door and says, “Action.” I open the door for Angie, and together we walk into the mansion, which is impressive with its floor-to-ceiling windows, twenty-foot-high entranceway, and direct ocean view. The white-washed walls are on point with the nautical atmosphere—complemented by the smell of crab cakes coming from inside.

“Seriously? Who serves crab cakes at a broker Open House?”

Remembering what Kaitlyn said to me, I reply, “Seems appropriate to me.”

Angie stops and turns, giving me the evil eye, then stalks deeper into the house. I hustle to keep up with her—a relatively easy task given her short legs. At least twenty brokers already are inside the great room and I see Angie stop in the threshold for a moment before marching toward Poppy.Oh shit.

I’m walking up beside Angie when Poppy turns and sees us, a fake smile on her doctor-enhanced face. “Poppy,” I address the broker and receive her two air kisses. “So great to see you again.”

“King,” she coos, returning my greeting. She inspects the woman at my side as if she were a broken elliptical. “I see you brought Angie with you.” The way she says Angie’s name—like she is offended to even utter the syllables—makes my protective side roar to life. I hadn’t even realized Ihada protective side, but I stifle it for the cameras.

Poppy extends her hand to Angie, as if she expects to be greeted like the pope. Angie’s chocolate eyes take in the hand. “Actually, he’s with me.”

I step in. “This is a gorgeous property, Poppy. Tell us about it.”

Poppy puts on her realtor hat and starts the tour. Well, she givesmethe tour since she doesn’t once look at Angie. When we end up on the patio, Poppy hands me a glass of champagne. “This is a very nice place. I can think of a few of our clients who would love to scoop this up. Right, Angie?”

I want to give the stupid champagne to Angie, but Kaitlyn insisted that we bicker for the cameras. Angie steps forward and pours her own flute, returning the bottle to the table. “I’m not sure. It’s a bit too cavernous for today’s market.”

Poppy puts her hands on her hips. “Really? I don’t know who your clients are, but all ofminewant to be in an open-concept floor plan.”

Angie drinks the champagne and makes a face as if it’s the cheap stuff. “When a space is as large as this one, it helps to designate separate areas. Right now, people could be watching television where others are eating, and none ofmyclients want that.”

I force myself to disagree. “If they’re at the dining table, no one would be watching the TV anyway.”

Angie flips her hair. “I think if it were remodeled it would flow much better. Especially with these views.” She waves her hand toward the ocean.

Poppy leans forward. “Most times, people would be eating out here on the patio anyway.”

Oh, boy. I better try to stop this before one of them throws the other into the pool. Although if it came to an actual fight, I have no doubt who would win. “I, for one, can see the benefits of how the house is laid out. And I’m sure a few of our clients would agree.”

Angie’s back gets straighter, which is a bad omen. She sets down her champagne. “At this price point, I don’t think our clients would want a fixer-upper.”

“Awhat? Are you kidding me? This place is to die for.” Poppy turns to me. “How can you work with such a small-minded fool, King? I took you for a worldly man.”

My flute goes down next to Angie’s. “Ladies, this property is a nice listing and I’m sure the right buyer will scoop it up in no time. But Poppy, we all know buyers want to put their own imprint on a house before calling it home.”

The two ignore me and square off as if getting ready to enter the octagon. Poppy says, “All that’s needed here is a new family to unpack their toothbrushes.”

Time for me to get Angie out of here. Milo circles us, covertly giving me a thumbs up. How can I help Angie save face while giving the studio what they want?

I clear my throat. “Well, I imagine whoever buys it may still like to make someminorchanges to the property. With that said, I can think of maybe one or two of our clients who might take a look. How negotiable is your price?”

Of course, Poppy’s response throws more gas on the gurgling fire. “Make an offer and you’ll find out.” She turns her head and nods at someone behind us. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to give another tour to agents who may have relevant clients for me. King, enjoy your day.” And Poppy sweeps back into the house.

I pick up my flute and chug the remaining champagne. Angie does the same, mumbling, “What a pretentious bitch.”

“Now, now, is that any way to be talking about the listing agent?”

Angie’s glass crashes down onto the table. “I was right about the layout, and you know it. It’s just a box. A big, open box. Who wants to live in a box?”

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