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“What’s your name?” I ask as I stumble half-blind around the room, looking for something to write with.
“Austin Gambill.”
I find a pen and a receipt to a shoe store on the floor. “Austin Gambill,” I say as I scribble it down. Shit, does Gambill have one L or two? Doesn’t matter.
I take down his number and tell him that I’ll call him back later with some options.
“Okay, thanks,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I swallow hard as I hang up the phone.
What. The. Fuck.
I have so much to do. I have to find some listings, make appointments, find a professional-looking outfit, wash my car…
Oh my god. Oh my god!
This is happening. This is actually happening.
The opportunity I’ve been waiting for.
I just can’t screw it up.
Gulp.
I’m totally going to screw it up.
CHAPTER FOUR
Norah
This has been the most chaotic twenty-four hours of my life.
But I’m here. I got through it.
I’m standing in a gorgeous four-million-dollar mansion, waiting for my client to arrive.
The listing agent has the flu so he threw me the keys out of his window and told me to take care of it myself. After disinfecting the keys with some old hand sanitizer in my beat-up car, I drove to the mansion, let myself in, and looked around in amazement.
This place is incredible. The white foyer is fit for a queen with the giant double staircase that leads to the mezzanine on the second floor. At the top of the stairs is a stunning white statue of a woman holding a baby—or from this angle it kind of looks like a giraffe, I don’t know, it’s a bit abstract—and there’s a fountain behind it that sprays water up, making one hell of an impression when you walk in. Everything is white and I thought I was walking into heaven for a second when I first opened the doors.
It took me a good forty-five minutes to explore the whole house. This place has everything—a theatre room, a full gym, two kitchens, more bedrooms and bathrooms than I can count, and a giant inground swimming pool in the backyard with a spectacular rock waterfall. It’s stunning.
I check the time and fix my hair in the mirror in the hallway. I look good, I think. Lauren lent me a gray pantsuit and I had a white blouse that I put on.
I take a strand of brown hair and smell it, hoping it doesn’t smell like beer. A keg exploded on me last night when I was changing it. My hair smells pretty good now since I washed it twice. More like my coconut shampoo than Budweiser.
I spot a door behind me that I haven’t opened yet. What’s that?
Three minutes until my client is scheduled to arrive. I have to do this fast.
I hurry over to the door and open it. I gasp when I see inside. It’s a large room with a giant window and a bright colorful parrot perched on a tropical tree.
This parrot has a whole room? A room bigger than my apartment?
The buzzer to the front gate goes off and I run to the entrance to buzz in this Austin Gambill guy.
“Come on in,” I say in a cheery voice as I hit the button.
