Page 4 of Contingently Yours

“Who’s the client?” I ask, unable to hold back my curiosity any longer.

“Mason, Dario, and Keenan Hepperly. Money isn’t an object, so needless to say, these sales have a lot of potential.”

Andrew lets out a low whistle. “Nice.”

“Are they brothers?” I venture, already silently thinking about how I can try to relate to them as someone who has two younger siblings.

“No. They’re a throuple who got married a few months ago. They want to make the viewings their honeymoon over the course of a month and stay at some of the properties to get a good feel for them, so we’ll have to shoot for furnished or staged properties.”

“They’re a what?” My request for clarification draws a snort from Andrew. Why does he look so smug? “What?” I repeat defensively.

“A throuple is what you call a couple plus one, sweetheart,” he informs me, lacing his fingers behind his head before he returns his gaze to his uncle. “See? Told you. I’m your guy.”

A throuple …as in three men who are all married to each other? That’s a new one for me. I’ve only shown properties to couples, singles, and business partners. And how the hell does Andrew know what a throuple is?

Shit. Now I look like I don’t know what I’m doing.

“I’d be happy to show them, Lou. I can relate to all those property types,” I offer.

“Yeah. Everything about you screams luxury resort, Conan ,” Andrew snarks.

Just as I glare at him, Lou interrupts. “Knock it off. I don’t have time for this shit.

If you two could get along, that would make my life a hell of a lot easier right now.

It’s going to be a lot of work. A lot of travel.

I don’t want to send anyone out solo on this, but everyone’s either got scheduling conflicts or isn’t appropriate.

Hank’s got two showings the week the Hepperlys want to take off.

Judy’s never shown Oceana properties, Clarence can barely get in and out of a car anymore, let alone a sea plane, and Jeremiah…

well, I’m not taking any chances on his lack of filter making us look like Destination Living after what they did to the Hepperlys. ”

I sit forward at the same time as Andrew. Destination Living is our biggest competitor. If the clients had a bad experience with them, I want to know about it and use it to my advantage, as well as not make any repeat mistakes that may have been committed by our competition.

“They went to Destination first?” Andrew asks.

Lou snorts. It’s a smug-sounding snort, which gives me hope.

“Yeah, and word is that whoever they got at Destination wasn’t a fan of same-sex marriage and made some subtle comments expressing as much.

The Hepperlys told them what they thought of that and walked right out, so their misfortune could be to our benefit. ”

“Are you kidding me?” Andrew sounds off. “They’re like the most famous throuple in the world and those idiots decided their shitty opinion needed to be heard? I hope they slap a lawsuit on them.” He lets out a bewildered laugh and shakes his head.

“They’re…famous?” I interject.

I’m still absorbing the term ‘throuple . ’ There are famous throuples? My sisters say I live under a rock. I’m starting to feel like they might be right in at least this regard.

Andrew sighs and rolls his eyes. “Uh, ever hear of the band, Renegade?”

Only vaguely, but I’m not telling him that, so I shrug and nod. Are these guys all in a famous band?

“Mason Hepperly is the lead singer,” Andrew continues. “No?” he challenges with a smirk, like he knows I’m just posturing. “How about a little show called Down Under with Dario, or did the foil fall off the rabbit ears on your television?”

Is he kidding me? That’s the Dario who’s sitting in the conference room right now?

I love that show. Every survivalist show on TV usually has over-enthusiastic wannabees, but Dario Kealy is the real deal.

He’s a wild man who eats grasshoppers like they’re M&M’s.

I had no idea he was gay or… throupled .

Is that a word?

“Of course, but he doesn’t go by Hepperly on the show,” I mutter in my defense.

“I’m supposed to go in for my hernia surgery at the end of next week,” Lou informs us.

“I’ve been waiting months to get this done and can’t miss it.

Vera will have my head if I do, but I can probably help with the tail end of the viewings in a few weeks.

I still need two agents to start them out on the front end, though.

Andrew, maybe I can call someone from Bridges Real Estate to help you out until I recover, and then Lucas and I can handle the viewings on the second half of the trip. ”

The commissions from these three sales will be extravagant, but Lou just dispensed some depressing math.

Andrew and a Bridges Real Estate agent, and Lou and me?

That’s a four-way cut. I know even a quarter of the commissions would likely solve all my financial problems, but with my luck, Andrew will try to finalize all three properties during the first week or two.

“No!” Andrew and I blurt in unison. My face blooms over my outburst. While being blunt might be common for my nemesis, it’s not for me, so I amend, “I can handle it,” but Andrew again says the same words that come out of my mouth.

I fume as we glare at each other. He doesn’t need this deal, at least not financially. He just wants to show off to his uncle, or maybe his family, from what Lou said earlier. Can he not be a selfish jerk just this once?

“These people were just shit on by our competitors. I know you’re both capable, but understand this—VeraLou is going to be part of their honeymoon.

We need to pamper them and show them the love they didn’t get from Destination.

I want us dining with them, swimming with them, asking them if they need their fucking pillows fluffed.

It’s more than just showings. We’re going to get invited to their damn anniversary parties and kids’ birthdays by the time this is over.

We’re not going to neglect them for a second, and guess what?

You have to sleep sometime, so no matter how many sales either of you have made, you’re not going to be able to juggle all the travel, off-loading their luggage, getting them settled in the properties for the night, and kissing their asses at the same time. It’s just not possible for one person.”

Shit. He’s serious. I’ll hand it to him—it’s a good strategy for such a unique situation.

We need to be like tour guides. Commission aside, the idea of hanging out with Dario Kealy for three to four weeks is also not an opportunity I want to pass up.

How many people can say they got to do that?

I never take vacations or do anything for recreation.

I know this is technically work, but it’s the closest thing to having a good time I’ll have had for as long as I can remember.

For some reason, I glance at the sandy-haired jackass next to me.

Probably because he’s surprisingly quiet.

When I find him giving me the same wary expression, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach because I know what he’s thinking.

Inhaling, his lips press into a firm line, but then he looks back at his uncle with a brighter expression.

“Lucas and I will do it.”

We what? Did I just hear him correctly?

A trickle of hope filters through me, knowing that two people equals fifty percent commission versus only a quarter, but…this is Andrew Broadhouse. I’d probably murder him before we even board the plane.

Lou is a sensible man because he scoffs at Andrew’s suggestion.

He plops down in his chair, yanking open a drawer.

Retrieving a bottle of antacid tablets, he levels a stern look at us.

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid? You two haven’t even been able to be in the same room as each other since the Panama showing last year.

You couldn’t even make it through the office door today without playing grab-ass.

You’ll get our licensing privileges revoked in three countries by the end of the first week, not to mention embarrassing the shit out of me with the Hepperlys,” he rants, trying to pry the lid to his tablets open.

“Not happening. We either come up with a plan to split it and take turns or ask them to prolong their trip until Hank is free and can go with one of you, which I’d rather not do.

The Hepperlys only have so much free time between all three of their schedules, so we need to make this happen now. ”

Crap. He’s right. If we ask them to hold off, they could go through agencies local to each of their destination choices, and we’ll look bad for not being able to accommodate them.

However, a twenty-five percent commission is still not a fifty percent commission.

Maybe I can restrain myself from choking Andrew for enough money.

My soldiering finally kicks in, reminding me to suck it up in the face of adversity.

“We can do it, Lou,” I agree, hoping I sound confident. “Andrew and I have…put our differences behind us.”

His weathered skin crinkles at the corners of his eyes as Andrew nods. I really hate deceiving the old man. He trusts me. I can tell he’s only considering it because I’m the one who assured him that no blood will be shed.

Popping an antacid tablet into his mouth, he crunches it silently as his gaze pings suspiciously between us. Andrew should really wipe that creepy smile off his mug right now. I’d trust that face about as much as I’d trust someone to wax my chest.

“Yeah? What about the doorway incident this morning?”

Andrew claps his hand on my shoulder and gives it a brotherly looking shake. I can feel his fingertips digging painfully into my muscles. “Just a game we like to play. All in good fun.” Turning his face toward me, he flashes that obnoxious smile. “Right, Lucas?”

Fifty percent. Fifty percent , I chant silently as his fingertips dig deeper into my shoulder.

“Right,” I concur, nodding to Lou.