“Are you sure?” I hated the concern etched on her face.
“I’m sure.” After a quick but meaningful hug, she walked me to the door. We made promises for dinner later in the week before I was on my way to Crescent Pointe, optimistic about making my next sale because clinging to the little things was what kept me in a happy state of mind.
I arrivedten minutes early and let myself in. I moved through the house, turning on all the lights and unlocking doors to ensure the tour through the home was seamless, a trick I picked up when shadowing Kinsley at a couple showings when I first started with her company.
Familiarize yourself with the property so you don’t fumble through the discovery of amenities and ruin the experience for the buyer. If you know the home, you can better help the buyer visualize themselves owning the property. You can’t rightly use heated floors and overhead lighting as a selling point if you don’t know they exist or the convenience of how they operate,” she’d said.
By three fifteen, I was beginning to worry that my client wasn’t going to show because they were fifteen minutes late. I made my way to the front of the townhouse and almost collided with the door when it opened at the same time that I reached for the handle.
I plastered on a smile, prepared to greet the new owner of this house because I was claiming the sale, only to feel instant annoyance when I recognized the face and body of the person who almost knocked me on my ass as my irritation heightened.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted.
“Yeah, you damn sure aren’t good at this shit if that’s how you greet your clients.”
“You’re not my client.” I frowned and processed the name. Yoel Vaughn.Vaughn.Shit.
“Whose name did you use when you booked this viewing? Because I really don’t want to believe your parents hated you enough to name you YaakovYoelVaughn.”
He smiled sexily. “Nah, I don’t have a middle name, but if I did, that damn sure would be fucked up. Yoel is my brother.”
I frowned hard. “Is he buying a townhouse?”
“Nah…”
“Then you’re wasting my time.”
“I’m not wasting your time.”
I dropped my hands to my hips and glared at him. “Then who’s buying this townhouse? Because you just said your brother wasn’t.”
“Me, now can I get a tour or you saying fuck me and this sale?”
“I just sold you a house.”
Kove moved closer and dropped his chin, smiling sexily at me. He smelled so damn good and looked like my favorite bad habit to indulge in.
“Sell me another one.”
“Why?”
He laughed and stepped back. “You really gonna interrogate me about why the fuck I want to spend my money or you gonna get this sale.”
I rolled my eyes, fully not believing he wanted to buy this townhouse. But if that was the game he was playing, then so be it.
“Fine. Let’s go.” I turned on my heels and marched into the kitchen, throwing my hand to the side and mumbled, “Kitchen.”
“That’s all I get?” He smiled and I rolled my eyes.
“Newly renovated, all new appliances, open floor plan, butcher block countertops, cozy fireplace, and private back patio.”
“Put an offer in.”
“What?” I blinked at this man like I was hard of hearing or he had lost his mind because again, what?
“Put an offer in?”
“You want me to put an offer in on this townhouse?”