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She became aware that Rachel was talking to her and blinked rapidly to clear her head and focus on the task at hand.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked.

“I was just pointing out that mirrored closets aren’t exactly everybody’s cup of tea but—”

“Oh my god, get out of my head!” Ainsley exclaimed, laughing.

“What?”

“I was just thinking how those hideous closet doors would be the first things to go if I bought this place.”

Rachel stared at her. Ainsley couldn’t quite interpret the look, though. It was a mixture of being amused and being in wonder.

“We’re vibing,” Rachel eventually said.

“Guess so,” Ainsley agreed, wondering if it was against the real estate industry’s code of ethics for one of their agents to fuck a client in an empty house. If it was, Ainsley swore not to lodge a complaint…

***

Eventually, the showing was done.

Ainsley knew she could keep looking but the truth was, she’d already been looking for three months, ever since she accepted the Assistant Chief of General Surgery position at Scripps Memorial in Encinitas, not far from Carlsbad.

Her previous realtor had been a tool. The guy was always late for showings, took forever to respond to her calls or emails and seemed unable to believe that, in his words, “someone as beautiful as you is a surgeon.” So she had fired him and then gotten referred to Rachel by Dr. Truman, chief of thoracic surgery at Scripps.

“She’s fabulous,” Dr. Truman had said, telling Ainsley that Rachel had sold him his house in La Jolla.

And he hadn’t been wrong, Rachel was fabulous, Ainsley thought. And when Ainsley hadn’t been distracted by thoughts of slowly undressing Rachel and sucking on her nipples until they were sore, she had been impressed with Rachel’s manner and competence as a real estate agent.

And of all the houses she’d seen in Carlsbad and nearby Oceanside over the past few months, this place was the one really speaking to her. Not only was it super cute—except for those closet doors—but it was close enough to the beach that she could walk there in less than five minutes.

“So,” she began after she had conducted her own walk-through of the house by herself, spending time in each room, envisioning making each space her own, Rachel patiently waiting outside in the backyard. “What are my chances of getting this house?”

Rachel smiled.

“Yeah?”

Ainsley nodded.

“Yeah.”

Rachel then explained that if she wanted to put an offer on it, they should do so now.

“Like, now!” she added for emphasis, taking Ainsley’s hand and leading her back into the house. Rachel’s purse and laptop were in the kitchen on the countertop near the fridge.

“At less than a million, this place is going to go fast!” Rachel said, logging into her computer. “The only reason it’s still available is because the last offer fell through.” She looked up at Ainsley. “The buyers ended up not qualifying for the loan.”

Ainsley liked seeing this side of Rachel emerge: super competent, focused on achieving the end goal. She watched Rachel as she used her nicely tapered fingers on the laptop’s keyboard and trackpad to navigate to some real estate website. That’s when she noticed it.

Rachel’s nails were a bit long…

“Okay,” Rachel began, “let me clue you in on a secret. If you offer up to fifteen-grand less than asking, the Havershams will take it.”

Ainsley raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Really? You’re sure?”

“Totally. Trust me, they want to sell this place.”