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“Wonderful. I’m so glad to see you two getting along and putting all that ugliness behind you,” she said before floating out of the room with Rhiannon trailing behind her.

This is going to be awful.

CHAPTER SEVEN

CARMELA SAT at her desk watching Rhiannon through the clear glass of her o ce wall. Her dark hair was loose today. It was long and glossy and framed her face well. In a pencil skirt and silk top, she looked a lot more at ease. If only she hadn’t been struggling with the copy machine for fifteen solid minutes, she’d look at home.

Why is she even here?

Most agents her age didn’t set foot in an o ce. They all claimed to work from home while watching Netflix and playing on their phones. But three weeks in and Rhiannon had been in six days a week. She might be in on Sundays too, but it was the only day Carmela stayed home.

What are you playing at? I’m sure it’s some kind of act. But for whose benefit? Maybe hoping something lands in your lap just because you’re around?

Which was how Carmela started in real estate. Taking scraps from more seasoned agents that couldn’t be bothered to work for a thousand-dollar commission from a rental.

Back then, a grand made her entire month.

“I didn’t know someone her age would e

ven know what the hell a Xerox machine is,” Liz commented, resting against Carmela’s open doorway.

Carmela quirked an eyebrow. “Given that she hasn’t managed to get it working, I don’t think she does.”

“And you’re just going to let her struggle?”

She grinned. “Someone once told me that if a butterfly doesn’t struggle to get out of the cocoon it comes out all wrong. Or at least that was your philosophy when you made me go knocking door to door in that retirement community.

Outside. In the summer. When you knew full well those people weren’t moving.”

Liz laughed. “Well, sometimes you have to see how far people are willing to go to earn their stripes. This work isn’t for divas.”

“So if she figures that thing out by lunch, I should throw her a bone?” Carmela crossed one leg over the other as Liz sat across from her.

“That would be nice, considering you’re about to be in a very good mood,” she replied, setting a manila folder on Carmela’s desk.

“Oh really?” Carmela leaned forward, her eyes on the folder. “Do tell.”

“Considering you kept your end of the bargain, I got a warm lead for you,” she replied, her smile coy.

“Since when are you such a tease?” Carmela asked as she tried to keep her pulse from racing.

As soon as Liz slid the file across her desk, Carmela grabbed it and flipped it open. Her eyes widened as she glanced between the printout and Liz’s smirking face. It wasn’t just a warm lead. It was a multi-million dollar listing on Palm Beach. Not exactly Billionaire Row, but still on the island.

“How did you manage this?” Carmela asked, her sweaty hands gripping the papers tight.

“You don’t want to know the schmoozing I had to do for that,” she said as she stood. “It’s just the lead. You’re going

to have to pitch to him, and I’m sure you’re not the only one with his number.”

Carmela’s eyes were fixed on the photos of the sprawling estate. It wasn’t waterfront, but if she could get the listing, it would be the hook she needed to pull herself into a new market. The ultimate challenge.

“Liz . . . I don’t know what to say,” she said in voice so low she wasn’t sure Liz heard her.

Her mentor and dear friend smiled. “Say you’ll take me to lunch when you bag the deal.”

As soon as Liz was gone, Carmela jumped up to close her door and get on the phone. As she did, she noticed Rhiannon staring openly at her as if trying to will herself to hear what they were saying.

Maybe that little monster reads lips, she thought to herself with a grin. She closed the shades too, just in case. The last thing she needed was the baby shark blocking her chance to get her stiletto in the door.