Page 17 of Mister Curb Appeal
I want updates!
I don’t quite know where to put myself when Joshua walks back in with two more of my bags, and the cat carrier. I still think his leg may need medical attention, so I’ll make sure he checks on it later, just to be sure the wounds don’t get infected.
Speaking of Mr. Snuggles. He hops onto the couch, circles, then plops down on his paws and goes to sleep like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
“I think your cat likes it here,” Josh says.
“I’m so sorry about before,” I go on, but Josh waves me away.
“Don’t even worry about it. He seems like a sweet little guy.”
Now I know he’s just being nice. I snort. “I don’t know how you got that impression. Most of the time he’s a real pain in the ass.”
“I’ll put these bags in the bedroom.” He doesn’t wait for my answer, and my eyes definitely do not drop to his ass in those sweatpants…
“Thank you,” I say, wringing my hands, trying to follow Meg’s ever-so-helpful advice about not being myusual self. I wait for him to come back before adding; “So, I have a little bit of work to do for my showing tomorrow.”
“Oh, you’re here for business?”
Crap. I haven’t even had a second to elaborate too much on that. “Yes, our client is interested in a property that hasn’t hit the market yet. I’m here to take Ali’s place since she’s sick,” I say. “Our client is on a grueling schedule, so we couldn’t move it, plus, as I’m sure you’re aware, the inventory here is few and far between so we have to act quick.”
He snorts. “How come she got a special showing? Is she famous or something?”
“Actually, yes, but don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“You’re kidding?”
“I also can’t tell you who, client privilege and all of that, but she’s a very popular soap actress.”
“Who’s the realtor? I know someone here.”
“Oh, it’s Melinda Malone,” I say. When his eyebrows shoot up and his face flickers to something I’m not privy to, it prompts me to ask, “Do you know her?”
Dread fills every fiber of my being. I’ve never met Melinda before, but I’ve seen her face from the photo on the bottom ofher emails; she’s basically a supermodel in a bottle. Of course Josh knows her.
“She’s my ex-girlfriend.”
My jaw drops the moment his words are out of his mouth. Of course she is. I know it’s silly to feel jealous, but I can’t compete with her. In photos she’s got these long, tanned legs, poker straight black hair with a gorgeous face and big, brown eyes. She’d turn any man's head at any time, any place, I’m sure.
I swallow hard. “You don’t say?”
“We’re still friends,” he goes on, further twisting the knife in the wound I didn’t know I had until now. My face must drop because he quickly adds, “Justfriends.”
“That’s, uh, great that you’re still close.” That's all I can think of to say. Pathetic, I know.
He clears his throat. “I wouldn’t say we’re close, but we ended things amicably. It was years ago, we were both so young.”
The pain stabs me in the heart. I know I’m a solid six, maybe a seven on a really good day. I’m totally okay with that. But I’m not a ten, and I’m never gonna be a ten.
Melinda Malone is an eleven. Drop dead gorgeous, smart, wealthy, and has her own firm in Lake Haven. I spoke to her on the phone and she’s Susie Creamcheese to boot. More than willing to accommodate our request for a private showing. Well, she was the one scouting with Ali in case anything came up. Monica won’t deal with any other realtor, and Melinda was okay with that. She didn’t make a big fuss about it, even though the commission will be shared. She’s a professional. Which is more than I can say for other realtors who just want the whole cake to themselves.
And her ex is Joshua Lucas. She’s probably perfect at everything, and never walks in on anyone naked in the shower where she doesn’t belong or have a crazy assed moggy withsharp claws. Okay, that’s bitchy, but since it’s only in my own head, I don’t care.
“Melinda seems very nice,” I feel the need to add. “I’ve spoken with her a few times. She’s been very accommodating considering some of the assholes in town won’t sign a co-brokerage agreement.”
“Some realtors are asshats.” Josh shrugs. “The main thing is the client loving the property, at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.”
I smile. “I agree. I’m hoping for that tomorrow, too. The property is stunning, but you never really know until you’re there, looking at it in person.”
