Irresistible

Chapter 3: The Interview-2

Tina Butterworth welcomed me to Sinn with a plastic bottle of spring water and a smile. “Have a seat in our lobby. Mr. Sinn will be with you in a few minutes.”

I studied Tina, liking her style: petite in all blue, bright red lipstick, onyx black pigtails, no older than twenty-four, eyes the color of mint. She sat behind her desk, keyed things into her computer, giggled once, and took a sip from her own bottled water.

I focused on the glossy cover of a magazine called Art Trend. I picked it up, thumbed through it, and landed on the book critique of One Day.

The writer, Pamela Davis, called the book, “…a stunning masterpiece of the end of the world…bitterly sweet with a high body count…prepare yourself for some bloody scenes…a profound analogy of the world we currently live in and its destruction.”

“Mr. Trye,” Tina called out. “Follow me, please.”

Dressed in a suit, no tie, and carrying a portfolio in my right hand, water bottle in my left hand, I followed her into a narrow room comprised of all glass, one table, and several chairs. The room looked like a fish tank.

“Have a seat. Mr. Sinn will see you within a few seconds.”

I sat down in one of the stainless-steel chairs and waited…waited…waited.

I was just about to leave approximately twenty minutes later when an Aaron Rodgers—the Green Bay Packers’ quarterback—look-alike walked into the room and grinned at me.

“Mr. Trye, you will not believe the morning I’m having.”

I don’t know why I stuck around, disliking people who were late for meetings. Part of me felt infuriated with the black-haired man, but another part of me didn’t mind that he was late because of his forty-three-year-old good looks: six-three frame, muscular build, light green eyes, and attractive scruff on his chin and cheeks.

“My apologies, Victor.” He paused, shaking my hand. “I can call you Victor, right?”

I nodded. “Of course. I can call you Jaxford, right?”

The owner of Sinn Realty winked at me, grinned pleasantly, and said, “I prefer Jax. Jaxford sounds a bit stuffy, don’t you think?” Then he sat down beside me, swiveled his chair in my direction, and almost touched his knees to mine.

“My portfolio.” I held out the brown leather binder in his direction.

Jax Sinn took the binder from me and placed it on the table in front of him. “I appreciate that, but I don’t think I need it. I’ve already read most of your work resume online. Five years at Howard Hannah. Over ten years at Breeze Reality. The Internet can be handy when interviewing someone with your talents. Plus, there’s word of mouth about realty here in Pittsburgh. People seem to generally like you and speak highly of your work ethics.”

I was blown away by his statements and started rambling about Breeze and its high-end clientele. “I’m looking for a realty position that feels normal and down to earth. I need a break from the caviar and champagne lunches.”

He steered his view down to my binder, raised his gaze to my eyes once again, and asked, “May I be frank, Mr. Trye?”

“Victor,” I politely corrected him.

“Victor,” he repeated. He blinked a few times and asked, “I do realize you made over three million dollars last year at Breeze Realty, which I find impressive. It proves you’re a hardworking man. Working for Sinn isn’t going to come anywhere close to that yearly income, just so you know. We’re much smaller than Breeze. I’m sure you realize that. If I were to hire you for my company, be completely honest with me and let me know if a lower pay scale will be a comfortable fit for you.”

“If I’m being honest,” I told him, “which I always am, of course, I’m tired of fake people in the realty business. The money. The power. The pompousness. A decade of acting and being someone I never was is exhausting. I want to dress down again and be comfortable, which I haven’t been at Breeze lately. That side of me has been lost for a few years now. I want him back. Does that make any sense?”

“You’re soul searching,” he said.

“I guess you could say that.”

He smiled at me: handsome, unblinking, with content in his eyes. “You can obviously retire, Victor. We both know you have a healthy bank account. Tell me why you don’t do that.”

Feeling embarrassed and probably flushed, I replied, “It’s not about the money or having days off. I like to stay busy. Between you and me, I’m a single man who wants to find his way again. I’ve been off track and among the wrong people. Yes, I’m financial stable and very comfortable, but right now, I’m not happy with who I am. I’m not…me.”

He leaned back in his chair, rolled a flat palm against his muscular chest, tangled his long fingers together, and asked, “So, how do you really feel about the multi-million-dollar property Chantilly? Rumor has it you’ve steered your wealthy client at Breeze in the wrong direction.”

I cleared my throat and cut to the chase. “I actually love it. It’s a stunning castle with European charm. The living room is comprised of a chess game, and the tennis courts are palatial. It has a princess-like quality a romance writer would love. The main spire reflects youth versus maturity. It reminds me of a Sonia Delaunay painting.”

“I’m in love with Sonia’s work.”

“Likewise,” I told him.

He returned his attention to my portfolio and passed it to me. He made eye contact with me again: strong, unyielding, and serious. “I want Sinn to have someone like you on its team, Mr. Trye. I need a sensitive gentleman with an open mind and a strong opinion. Granted, Sinn is new, just a year old, but capable. I think the two of you will be perfect lovers.”

“Lovers?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course. I expect you two to be lovers.” He paused, stared into my eyes, and scratched the scruff on his chin. “You do believe in love, Mr. Trye. Don’t you?”

I did and told him so.

Then he hired me on the spot, having a certain love for me I couldn’t understand at that moment inside the office, but someday would. Soon.

* * * *

Confession: that evening, I resigned from Breeze Realty, telling my immediate supervisor, Tanner Blasé, “I’ll continue to work the next two weeks.”

I was told not to worry about my current listings and clients. I received a thank you for my years with the company and was given a sincere wish to have a promising future with whatever my work endeavors entailed.

End of that chapter in my life. Final.