Selling Murder House

Chapter 1 (Continued)

"Lilian, can I talk to you?" I asked, once I was certain the meeting was over.

"I have five minutes before I have to run to a property, is that enough time for you?"

"Plenty." I followed her to her office.

To my dismay, Leo followed. He had a separate office, but the Larsons were co-owners and I suppose any private conversation about my job involved him as well. Nothing I could do about that.

Lilian's office was a perfect representation of her personality: cool, modern, chic, and. The walls were a light blue-toned grey, the floors dark hardwood. A crystal chandelier hung low and bright from the tall ceiling, though the large window behind the desk let in more than enough light. She took her seat behind the desk and placed her black-framed glasses on the edge of her nose in a way that made her look effortlessly professional. Leo and I took the two leather chairs on the other side of the desk.

"What can I do for you, Mary?" Lilian said, her blue eyes laser-focusing on mine. I should've been used to her intense gaze, but every time it was set upon me I flushed, feeling as if she could see through my eyes into my soul.

Worse, I could feel Leo to my left, his leg bouncing, bumping into mine. It was so obviously distracting, and invading my personal space, I wondered if he was doing it on purpose to rattle me, or if he severely lacked self-awareness.

I cleared my throat and said, "I want to talk about my performance."

Lilian nodded. "Anything specific?"

"Well," I paused, shifting away from Leo's ever-bouncing leg in a way I hoped wasn't too obvious. "I styled the Wynwood House, and . . . it sounds like it's selling for well over asking."

Lilian nodded again, waiting patiently for me to continue. Leo's knee was back, he must've shifted closer. I coughed, buying time.

"I think I'm bringing extra money to the Group, and to the agents, and I was thinking about my salary . . ."

Leo cut me off. He said, "Mary, if you want to make bank, then you have a play with the big dogs."

I had heard this from Leo before, and I knew he was bluffing. He wouldn't trust me to take on an agent role, he hardly tolerated my presence in the Group as it was. Lilian was the one who hired me, not Leo, and it was pretty clear that he didn't want to employ an in-house interior designer, especially not one as young and relatively inexperienced as me. Stassi was Leo's favorite, but in a weird way, I think I was Lilian's. She had gone out of her way to employ me, to mentor me, to pay me to do what I love. I needed Lilian to go out of her way for me again.

There was a silence, and I watched on the sidelines as Lilian and Leo met each other's eyes. There was some beautiful, silent war taking place between them, one I couldn't read. Then Lilian smiled, a little devilishly.

"I absolutely agree, Leo," she said, and she shifted her gaze away from her brother as he raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

I think my face must've looked a lot like Leo's in that moment. She had called Leo's bluff and caught us both by surprise.

"Mary has taken the course, haven't you, Mary?" Lilian asked me, but she was looking at Leo again, still wearing that sly smile.

I stammered something inconsequential, because the conversation was going to move forward, whether I was in it or not.

"She's an interior decorator, Lil," Leo argued, brows downturning as it dawned on him just how serious she was about this.

"An interior designer, Lee," Lilian corrected sweetly. "All she has to do is pass her exam to get her certification, and then she can join your... 'Big Dogs'"

She said that last bit with distaste and a wave of finger quotes. I was starting to think there was something else going on between them, something that didn't really have anything to do with me. I sometimes wondered how the two of them were able to run a successful business together, when they so clearly butted heads. I could imagine them as children, competing for better grades and accolades. Lilian was challenging him, and I wasn't sure how I felt about being tossed into the ring, like a flag between bulls.

I was saved by the clacking of heels and Stassi's sing-song voice. She had a big-name client with her, a short man who wore his sunglasses inside the building with seemingly no intention of taking them off. He was apparently a great friend of Leo's (I doubted that, a lot of clients said this just to argue with the big boss about a listing price or something or other), and he got up and left with them, leaving me and Lilian alone in her office.

She turned to me and her face softened.

"Mary, you know I adore your work, and you're an invaluable asset to the Group," she said, probably after seeing my face had turned green. "But Leo doesn't... he doesn't see anything but numbers. If you were an agent--"

I tried to interrupt her, but she held up a finger.

"I'm only saying this because I believe in you," she said, removing her glasses. "You could still put your design skills to good use, we're never going to take that away from you. It's just, instead of giving Stassi a higher commission, you'd be pocketing it."

What Lilian said made sense, but the idea didn't feel real, didn't feel feasible. I couldn't picture myself working like Stassi and the other agents, walking through homes like I owned the place, showing them to clients who could buy my soul if they wanted it, talking them through the features without a stutter or awkward pause. When I was in those mansions, staging furniture and hanging art, I didn't feel like a person. The expensive things, the ungodly-high ceilings, the square footage, it all dwarfed me, made me feel like a mouse scuttling around, searching for cheese.

I left the office after telling Lilian I'd think about what she said. I had some cheese to get to.