Marcus Reid's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

The police car pulled away with Claire inside. Marcus walked Simone back to the hotel, his arm around her. But relief did not last. The meeting with Coastal Realty Group was in two hours, down on the sand. He still had to close the deal that brought him here. And his pitch was in pieces. Upstairs, he opened his laptop and swore. During the chaos, he had dumped everything in a drawer. His property maps lay creased. His printed numbers were out of order. Worst of all, the client's photo board had come apart. He had built it to sell the vision: beachfront shots, price tags, handwritten notes marked urgent and keep. Now the prints sat loose on a dark tray, taped crooked, half fallen. "You look like you're going to be sick," Simone said. She sat on the bed, still in her white dress. "I can't walk in like this. They'll think I fell apart." He pressed his hands flat on the desk. "They wanted the board. It sells the whole thing." Simone stood and came over. She looked at the mess of photos and papers. Then she picked up a beach print and held it next to a price tag. "Then don't rebuild the old one," she said. "Make it worse on purpose." Marcus frowned. "What?" "Leave the mess. The tape. The urgent notes." She tapped a crooked photo. "Tell them you pulled this together overnight because the properties move fast. Busy looks hungry. Perfect looks like you have nothing better to do." Marcus stared at the dark tray. For three years he had planned everything, down to her sundresses. He had never once asked her for a plan. He looked at her face and saw she meant it. "That's either brilliant or it ends my career," he said. "Pick fast," Simone said. "You've got an hour." He picked. They worked together on the floor. He sorted the prints by price. She arranged them tight and off-center, kept the handwritten tags, left the tape showing. It looked raw and alive, like a thing in motion. Marcus carried the board down to the sand. The client team waited under a cabana, pastel and bright against the water. He set the board on the easel. He did not apologize for it. He told them these properties sold in days, that he had rebuilt the pitch overnight to keep up. The lead agent studied the crooked prints. She leaned in close. Then she smiled. "This is the first pitch all week that felt like you actually wanted it," she said. "Send me the paperwork tonight." Marcus shook her hand. The deal was not signed. But the door was open, and the meeting was his. Walking back, he found Simone waiting by the cabana steps. He had come here to close a deal alone. Now he saw he could not do the rest of it without her, and he did not want to.