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“You can cool it on selling yourself, Carmelo.”
“Carm,” he corrects. “Everyone calls me Carm.”
I shake my head and roll my eyes, because this is a version of Carm I do not like. I look up from my napkin, and all three of their heads are turned in my direction. “Sorry. I was just thinking about something from earlier this morning. My neighbor and I had it out.”
Carm smirks. He knows I got caught. My mom’s eyebrows furrow, and Greg smiles as though I just told him my darkest secret.
“That’s not like you. You get along with everybody,” my mom says.
“Not everyone,” I say, looking right at Carm.
“We’re getting off track. I’ve got a building that’s going to be ready by the end of the year, and I want every unit sold before it opens. I have a proposal for you both. You each get a floor. We’ll do FSBO with you, Bella, and Carm, you do what you have to in order to sell the floor. Whoever sells out the fastest gets the rest of the building.”
“I’m sorry. What?” Carm leans forward as if he didn’t hear him correctly.
I laugh, manically laugh, because Greg Throttle cannot be serious right now.
