Page 36 of Sleepless Nights and Hockey Fights

Me: Stay right there. I’m headed over.

I reach into my wallet and throw a few twenties on the bar. Richie looks over at me with his eyebrows raised. I stand up and pocket my phone again.

“Gotta go. Can you Uber home?”

He nods, distracted when the bartender comes over with a plate of nachos and wings. I head out, suddenly not interested in beer or bars or bras.

Don’t lower yourself to their level.

Time I took my own advice.

Chapter Sixteen

Molly

“Oh my god, babe! This would be the perfect spot for my reading room!” my client gushes as she paws her partner’s beefy arm.

I glance around the tiny windowless room, barely making out the color of the walls in the dim light of the overhead fixture. “Um...absolutely!” I agree. “Very cozy.”

Coco always says that when you’re not working with an ideal listing, you need to help your clients imagine themselves in the space, offering as many possibilities for rooms as you can think of until you see the lightbulb switch on behind their eyes. Selling homes is as much about watching and listening as it is about talking, numbers, and neighborhoods.

“What kind of books do you read?” I ask Destiny, my tall, willowy client clinging to her partner Gabriel’s arm. Getting to know your clients and taking an interest in their lives is another top priority, according to my boss.

“Oh, she doesn’t read books. Says they’re too boring,” Gabriel answers, grinning down at Destiny and stroking her back. Thetwo of them are handsy as hell. I swear I almost walked in on them screwing in the ensuite bathroom at a property last week.

Before I can ask the obvious question, Destiny clarifies, “I read tarot cards. Have you ever had a reading?”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I order them to calm their shit. “Oh. Um, no, I don’t think I have.” In fact, I know I haven’t, and for good reason.

“Omigosh, youhaveto let me do a reading for you!”

“Yeah, youhaveto,” Gabriel echoes with equal enthusiasm. “Destiny isamazing.”

“Sounds...fascinating,” I lie, trying to suppress the urge to excuse myself so I can scream into a throw pillow on the couch in the tiny den.

It’s nothing against Destiny. She’s lovely and has been a dream client so far. I’ve just had enough experience with shady scammers of the occult to last a lifetime. My mother is a huge fan.

But since I can’t run screaming in the other direction, I paste on a smile and hope I’m convincing when I continue, “We should wait until we get you a house, though, right?”

Thankfully, it works.

“Totally,” Gabriel answers for them both, and I hurriedly lead them down the hall to the primary bedroom, hoping like hell they’re not going to declare it the perfect spot to summon the dead.

By the time we’re finished touring the home, Destiny has approved its general aura, and the couple decides to grab some pizza and think about it. I take that as my cue to check my messages and emails.

The first thing I see when I pull out my phone is a text from Bobby. Crap.

Bobby: Please call me as soon as you get this.

I’ve been avoiding thinking about him since yesterday at the rink, and he’s leaving for a road trip with the team tomorrow, so I’d been counting on having a little break from him to get my head back on straight. I’m still embarrassed I let myself get carried away and kiss him. The last thing I need is to hear his voice and let my lady parts start doing the thinking again.

Me: Hey. I’m at work.

Technically true.

Me: Is it about a property? Email me the listing and I can take a look.

I’m keeping this all business in case he’s texting me about his offer of a date again. He wouldn’t, would he? I suppose pro athletes don’t often get turned down, though. Oh god, he doesn’t think I’m playing hard to get, does he? See? This is what happens when I decide to dip my toe back into the dating pool! I start to obsess and overthink everything. He’s obviously texting about a property.

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