Faking It with the Frenemy

“Anyway, just go have a look at them. The realtor’s info is on the top sheet. Rick’s a fantastic guy. And he loves kids.”

Wyatt nods.

Man, I’m good at my job. And if he does as I ask and moves out in the next two weeks, I’m definitely going to find him a butler.

Suddenly, a thought crosses my mind—that I’m going to miss him and Vi if they move. I slap it down hard. Vi, maybe…but I want him out of my hair. I’m trying to go back to a non-pest-littered life, so I can leave home without having to check the damn floors first.

But the thought refuses to stay down.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Kim

“His attitude is much better with houses,” I say at the bar after our exercise session.

Jo and Hilary both look at me, then Hilary sticks her hand out. I give her my phone, and she scrolls down and finds texts from Wyatt.

“‘This is a really nice home. But too big for just two people,’” Hilary reads, then sips her cosmopolitan.

“Yeah, that’s the three-level place Rick loves so much.”

“As opposed to what multimillion home?” Jo says. “He just loves the commission.”

“Your cynicism is astounding, Jo. He works hard for his money.”

“Kim’s right. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his clients,” Hilary says.

Jo snorts. “You mean for his clients’ money. Don’t get me wrong, the guy’s good at his job. But he has a highly prehensile approach to cash.”

Hilary chuckles and continues reading Wyatt’s texts. “‘Don’t know about this one. Too sterile. Feels like a hospital.’” She tilts her head. “I have to agree. It’s too white and…I don’t know. Utilitarian?” She flips the phone around so Jo can see the picture.

“Yeah. But some people like that,” Jo says.

Hilary’s eyebrows rise. “Who?”

“People who are afraid to put their mark on a place, so they want it just sort of…plain. Or people who think the functional minimalist look is a thing to aspire to. Like God.”

“I’m pretty sure God likes color,” I say.

“And I’m grateful every day for that,” Jo says. “I wouldn’t have the job I love otherwise. And speaking of jobs, Hugo wants to know if he can stop by tonight.”

“Sure. Any time, as long as it’s before nine.”

“Got it.” Jo starts texting.

“By the way, are you going to that art gallery opening?” Hilary asks.

I look daggers in Jo’s direction. “Did you tell her?”

“It just came up.” Jo’s smile is entirely too innocent as she puts away her phone.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I have another…” I think for a moment. Not a date. And appointment sounds weird. “Engagement,” I say, using the word my boss likes so much.

“With who?” Jo asks eagerly.

“Somebody we know?”

I suppress a sigh. I hate it that I’m going to have to prove Jo right. Not to mention I owe her a blow-by-blow report of how he and I are going to get together. Crap. I should’ve promised her a bottle of Salazar’s favorite scotch instead. “No one you know,” I say to Hilary.