AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are they open to negotiation?” I inquired, hoping for some wiggle room.
“They were quite put off by the offer to begin with. Your client is cheap. The place was fully renovated last year and it’s like brand new.”
“Two tiles on the patio were cracked,” I pointed out, grasping at straws.
She snorted. “That’s your client’s problem? Two cracked tiles?” she shot back, incredulous.
“Are we done here?” I asked, my patience completely worn thin.
"You know I'm right," she retorted, her voice sharp and smug.
"I know you're unprofessional," I shot back, my irritation bubbling to the surface.
"Excuse me?!" Erika screeched, her tone rising a few octaves.
I picked up my scotch glass and sucked a nearly melted cube into my mouth, rolling it around so it bumped against my teeth. The chill on my tongue was refreshing, but I was doing it more to give Erika a taste of her own medicine.
"I'm unprofessional? What about you?" she demanded, her voice laced with indignation.
I couldn’t help but laugh. I crunched down on the ice cube, pulverizing it between my back teeth before swallowing the slivers. "Ah, that felt good," I said, savoring the small victory.
"You're an ass," she spat.
"Sorry, does that bother you? Now you know how it feels," I retorted, leaning back in my chair, fully aware that my behavior was juvenile. Erika had a way of getting under my skin, and the thought of my fat commission slipping away wasn’t helping matters.
"Dick," she hissed, her words dripping with venom.
"You better believe it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to call my client." I pressed the end call button before Erika could respond, feeling a surge of satisfaction as the line went dead.
With a deep breath, I prepared myself for the wrath of Mrs. Ducane. This conversation wasn’t going to be pleasant, but it was necessary.
“Mr. Elliott, didn’t we discuss the words no negotiation?”
I massaged my temples. “We did, and they are not willing to accept your offer.”
“What can we do about this?” she arrogantly asked.
“Negotiate.” I gritted my teeth waiting for the old bag to loosen her purse strings. I knew she wanted the place from her eagerness to make an offer. I’d been showing apartments to Mrs. Ducane for over four months and in that time made no other offers. But if she wanted the penthouse, she would have to bend to get it.
“Very well,” she acquiesced. “Thirteen seven.”
“Is that your final offer?” I prompted.
“I hope so.”
“I’ll call the agent and get back to you.”
“Try your best,” she patronized. “I can’t spare the price tag as it is.”
I knew that was bullshit. Lois Ducane was rolling in dough as a result of two marriages and one divorce. I did my homework when it came to my clients and estimated she was worth over a quarter of a billion dollars.
“I will,” I promised with ease. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to call the other agent.”
“I’ll be waiting.” She hung up and I took a deep breath before I called Erika Bramwell.
“Elliot, what now?” she said as she answered.
“I have another offer.”
