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“I hadn’t thought of that, but yeah. No stairs would make it easier for them.”
She nodded and added a note to her pad. We abandoned the questions Kate had given us as Cameron took over the interview. She led me through all the items on my wish list, asking for details and making brilliant suggestions. Without question, she had been in real estate for years and was more than a former Miss Texas and the mayor’s granddaughter.
We talked until a rustle off-camera caught my attention. I’d truly forgotten about our audience. Kate was signaling to Cameron to wrap up. We both blinked, and she gave me a sheepish smile. The spell that held us in thrall broke, and Cameron returned to the script.
“This is great. I’ll have to get shopping. But there is one more big question.” She paused for dramatic effect and couldn’t hold my gaze. “What is your budget?”
It was obvious the question made her uncomfortable. Her eyes darted from me to the ground and back. As the question hung in the air, she’d caught her lower lip between her teeth. I’d never met a real estate professional who was shy about money. In LA, the agents would have been salivating, not blushing.
Or maybe she was a better actress than I’d thought. Either way, here goes nothing.
“Fifteen million.”
She swallowed hard before writing the amount down on her notepad and putting a big circle around it. When she looked back at me, I saw the faintest glimmer of the ambition I’d anticipated in the depths of her sapphire eyes.
The truth was, money made the world go round even in Elmer.
She tilted her head and tapped her lips with the pen as if she was thinking hard. Off-camera, a crew member held a new cue card up for her to read.
“With that healthy budget, I know the perfect place for us to see. A house that brings the outside in. I call this one the Aerie House.” Her clean delivery and spokesmodel voice were polished perfection. She patted my arm and gave me a hundred-watt smile that probably won her many a beauty pageant, but it felt fake. Nothing like the connection we’d shared minutes ago when discussing my wish list.
My inner cynic reminded me that those few incredible first dates where I thought I’d forged a connection with a woman never amounted to a marriage. This interview wasn’t any different. Cameron was an excellent salesperson doing her job, for which she would be richly rewarded.
All I had to do was keep it professional.
Chapter 6
Cameron
“Ihatetodothis to you last minute, but Tracie’s flight got canceled. And I’m not sure we’ll get cleared for another shoot at this house. The seller has already been a pain to deal with. I need you to do her part and yours,” Kate said. She vibrated from the added stress as she paced back and forth along the slate-paved driveway in front of the Aerie House.
I wanted to hug her, but I also wanted to scream that I wasn’t prepared. Preparation had always been the key to my success in pageants and in taping the show. Every question Kate had given me, I’d carefully memorized like my daughter would lines in a play.
“What else do I need to do?” The fear in my voice made me cringe. I sounded pathetic.
“The plan had been that you and Wilson would tour together, and you were going to ask him questions about what he thought. The home’s features would have already been explained to the viewers by Tracie. Without Tracie, I need you to do both... at the same time.” Kate pushed a stack of papers at me, and I took them, nodding to show that I understood what she’d asked.
It was a lot—talking to the viewers and Wilson, moving the tour through the house, and noting all the home’s features without a script or time to practice.
“So, is that a yes? Great. Read those. It’s everything you need to know about the house.” She spun away, her cell pressed to her ear as she shouted at someone about a Teamsters’ Union strike in New York.
I leaned against my car, not worried that I might dirty my outfit. The request had knocked the wind out of me like I’d taken a double-barreled kick from a horse to the chest. I clutched the papers, not ready to look at them yet. I might vomit.
The Aerie House, which I knew as the Johnston estate, was a house I had always loved from afar. When the family built it ten years ago, I’d dreamed of winning the lottery and buying it for myself. It had expansive views, 50 acres of land, and river access. Its astronomical price point guaranteed that I’d never considered the possibility of having a client with deep enough pockets to purchase it. And if I couldn’t play host and real estate agent today, I might not have my big-spender client for long.
In Texas, incompetence was grounds for firing your exclusive agent. The throb of my heart against my ribs made the slightly silly denim cowgirl dress Stephen put me in constrict uncomfortably across my chest. This must be what a panic attack feels like.
Despite the tight dress, I sucked in a fortifying breath and scanned the first page of the papers Kate gave me. Italian Calacatta marble. Brazilian cherry hardwoods. Level five drywall finish. The words swam before my eyes. There were seven pages of neatly spaced features and highlights.
Seven.
A drip of sweat rolled between my shoulder blades, and my hair, heavy with product, stuck to my clammy neck. I needed a few days to study. The basics about the house I had memorized from the real estate listing, but this was next-level detail. How the hell would I remember even ten percent of this list? While walking, talking, smiling, and interacting with Wilson. Yesterday, he’d monopolized my attention completely. Kate had to remind me with a cue card to ask him what his budget was.
The man was bad for my... focus.
Yes, let’s call it focus. It sounded better than admitting I had a huge crush on my sexy client. I was way too old for this kind of juvenile behavior, and I had too much money on the line.
I fanned my hot face with the stack of papers. Thank the Lord for small favors. Wilson was still in the wardrobe RV with Stephen and not watching me melt down. Because me right now, mid-panic attack, wasn’t the kind of thing a multimillion-dollar client wanted to see.
