All About Me. Marcia King-Gamble
wineglass and making sure to keep her distance. She knew I was volatile.
“Ladies night, eh?” Quen said his eyes twinkling. “What are you drinking?”
“Water because of you.” I wasn’t sure if it was an offer to buy or whether Quen was testing me. I stood my ground and gave my friend the evil eye. “You two got something going?”
“Do we have something going?” Quen put the question right back to Sheena.
“We could.”
So that’s the way it was. They were working their way toward hooking up. Over my dead body!
I planted myself firmly between them. “Quen and I have a breakfast date, don’t we, Quen?
“You know it, sugar. Try not to cheat, at least not a lot.” He winked at me.
Sheena’s gaze dripped poison. Since neither one of them asked me to sit down and Quen didn’t follow through on the drink offer, there was nothing left for me to do than crawl back to where I came from. But I’d put Sheena on notice, and that was what I’d set out to do.
The salads had arrived: a few measly pieces of lettuce, chopped egg yolk, whites and luncheon meat cut in bite-size cubes—at least that’s what it looked like. Pitiful.
“So what did you find out?” Jen asked carefully.
“That they’re not dating. Sheena’s out to get laid.”
“And that comes as a big surprise.” Jen’s hazel eyes inspected me carefully over the rim of that wine glass. “Think Quen will bite?”
I snorted. “I don’t know and I don’t care.”
“Sure you do. Look I wasn’t going to tell you this but I heard Quen’s ex-wife might be moving back to Flamingo Beach?”
“What!” I was the one who heard all of the news first. So how come Jen had one up on me?
“Tre was in Joya’s Quilts the other day picking up a gift for his mother. Granny J waited on him. She told him her granddaughter, her namesake, was coming to town for a visit.”
Joya back in Flamingo Beach meant only one thing. Trouble. It had taken Quen at least a year to get over her.
I didn’t like the idea that size-two Joya with her great big gray eyes and delicate ways was going to be my competition. She’d dumped Quen, then gotten hired by an airline, and moved to L.A. where we all hoped she’d stay. I wondered if Quen knew Joya was coming back to town. I’d fish around and see what I could find out tomorrow.
“So what do you think?” I asked the tall blonde in the capris and halter top that her boobs were falling out of. She’d been mincing around the five-room apartment for over an hour, poking her head into every nook and cranny. I was still trying to figure out what she was looking for. I mean the condo was unfurnished.
Grandpa accompanying her, I had pegged as a sugar daddy. He was real old and Daisy kept rubbing those big nipples against his arm and whining, “Charlie, I just don’t know. I’m thinking we should hold out for the penthouse. You’d be much more comfortable.”
“I don’t have any penthouses available,” I said, trying not to sound disgusted, which I was. “The buildings in Flamingo Place have seven floors. You can put your name on the waiting list for a villa if you want but they’re under construction. If you’re looking for waterfront the starting price is in the high seven hundreds.”
Up until now I was doing really well; maintaining my professionalism and elocuting all over the place. Manny Varela and Mr. Cummings would be proud of me. What I really wanted to do was slap the bitch so hard her collagen lips wobbled.
Daisy didn’t blink an eye. “Villa? Did you say villa? And it’s waterfront.”
Charlie’s adams apple bobbed. “Honey, it’s not like we plan on being here in the summer. This two-bedroom condominium is more than adequate,” he pleaded.
Tears began to form in Dina Winters’s eyes. Dina was her real name; I liked Daisy better. She sniffed a couple of times and caught herself. “You should be thinking about waterfront, Charlie, waterfront. You never lose with water. It just keeps appreciating.”
Daisy wasn’t that stupid. She had a brain but girlfriend was using her assets until she had him roped in.
“Why don’t you both think about it and get back to me?” I said, flipping her another card. I had another appointment with clients coming in from New York who sounded like they were ready to buy, and I didn’t need Daisy’s waterworks holding me up.
My new business cards from Fabulous Shots were worth every dime of the two hundred dollars I’d conned Manny into spending. They really were fab-u-lous. Seventy-five dollars of his money had gone toward making me fifty pounds lighter, hollowing out my cheeks, and flattening my stomach. With a little erasing around the eyes I’d turned into one helluva guy magnet. I needed to make sure Quen got one of my cards.
“I really have to go,” I said, looking at my watch. “I’ve got another client.”
“Honey, let’s not hold this lady up,” Charlie who was totally whipped said. “We took this long plane flight and we checked everything out on the web so why not just do it.”
Daisy sniffed again. “I want you to think about water, Charlie. Can we call you tomorrow?”
“Sure you can.”
Dina, Daisy, whatever, gave the apartment one last go around, Charlie trotting dutifully at her heels.
By then I’d pretty much decided this Realtor business took a good deal of patience. Sure you could make big bucks if you bit your tongue and knew how to manipulate people. Biting my tongue was something I’d have to learn to do.
Finally Charlie and his eye candy left.
“How did it go?” Manny asked me when I returned to the office. I rolled my eyes and sucked in my breath. “That bad, huh?”
I explained what had happened. “That woman was still carrying on in the parking lot. I could hear her. She wanted Charlie to hold out for a villa.”
Manny shrugged. “What do you care? If he buys her a waterfront place, that’s more money in your pocket. Think commission, hon. Judging by their mode of transportation, old Charlie ain’t hurting none. He can well afford to buy his trophy whatever she wants.”
“I suppose.”
“Speaking of which you want to have dinner with me sometime?”
I thought about it for a second. “Sure.”
Hell I was hungry and Manny would buy me anything I wanted in reason, so I wouldn’t shoot off my mouth to Lizzie about Sheena.
He made a good point, too, about the commission. The couple had shown up in a Hummer, one of those huge monstrous things in canary yellow that reminded me of a Brink’s truck and cost a fortune.
“When’s your next client?” Manny asked.
I squinted at the tiny wristwatch Jen had insisted I wear. She claimed I needed to look professional.
“They should be showing up any minute.”
“You look nice,” Manny said. “Not at all what I’m used to seeing you wearing.”
Was he coming onto me? I glared at him. I hated the two-piece pant outfit. It wasn’t me. The black slacks made me feel like a mortician and the long black cardigan that covered the sleeveless beige shell was hot and itchy. I had a double strand of fake pearls around my neck that were choking the daylights out of me. And on my feet were the ridiculous black pumps. My arches were already aching from all that standing.
I poured myself a glass of water when what I really wanted was a big ole glass of sweet tea, or a Biggie Size soda. In a pinch, water would have to do.
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