Page 3 of Daddy's Naughty Realtor

"WHAT?" Melissa responds first. Then: "THE Jeremy? The one who broke your heart?"

Christine chimes in with a string of flame emojis, followed by "PICTURES NOW."

I roll my eyes, take another sip of wine, and pull up LinkedIn on my laptop. It takes all of thirty seconds to find a website with his photo on it. Jeremy Ford, CEO of Apex Development. His profile picture is exactly what you'd expect: power pose with his arms crossed over his chest, against a neutral background, the perfect amount of silver in his hair, just enough smile to seem approachable but not enough to seem weak.

I copy the link and paste it into the chat.

There's a full minute of silence, which in Naughty Girls time is practically an eternity. Do they think he’s ugly? Too old? I’m not sure, but I do know, these girls are never quiet.

"Holy. Mother. Of. God." That's Elizabeth, our resident Daddy Dom expert. The woman has read more dominant male romances than should be legally allowed. "Gina. Honey. That man is not a snack. He's the whole damn meal."

"He's the guy who ghosted me thirty years ago," I remind them. "Left without so much as a goodbye. And now he thinks he can waltz back into my life like he owns it."

"Owns it... or wants to own you?" Autumn suggests, and I can practically hear her eyebrows wiggling through the screen.

This.

This is why I love these women. We met in an online book club, bonding over our shared love of romance novels by our favorite author that verges on the... spicier side. We’re called the Naughty Girls Book Club because our tastes run more Daddy Dom than Pride and Prejudice. There are branches around the country, although I’ve never met most of them in person, but they know more about my inner life than most of the people I see every day.

"Not helpful," I type back, but I'm smiling despite myself.

"So what did you do?" Maya asks. "When he called you kitten?"

What did I do? I dismissed him. Finished the showing. Kept it together until I could escape to my car, where I promptly had a mini breakdown.

"I was professional," I tell them instead. "And then I came home and opened a new bottle of wine." Which is almost empty.

"Boring," Christine replies immediately. "If a man who looked like that called ME kitten, I'd be purring in his lap by sundown."

"I'm with Christine on this one," Emily says. "If the universe drops a ready-made Daddy Dom in your lap, you don't question it. You say 'thank you, universe' and break out the good lingerie."

I nearly choke on my wine. "He is NOT a Daddy Dom. He's an arrogant jerk who thinks he can barge back into my life after three decades."

"Six of one, half dozen of the other," Emily replies, and I can practically see her shrugging. "Come on, G. When was the last time you even went on a date?"

I frown at my screen. The last guy I dated was Mark, an accountant who spent our entire second date explaining the tax benefits of cryptocurrency. He texted afterward to tell me I seemed "intimidating." Translation: I made more money than him and wasn't afraid to say so.

"Not the point," I type back. "Jeremy Ford is off limits. End of discussion."

Three typing bubbles appear simultaneously.

"Sure… he’s not," Denise replies first.

"We'll revisit this in a week," Maya adds.

"Just promise you'll tell us EVERYTHING," Emily finishes.

I close my laptop with more force than necessary and drain my wine glass. These women know me too well. They know I'm not as immune to Jeremy as I want to be. They know that beneath my anger, there's curiosity. Beneath my indignation, there's a whisper of what if.

What if he's changed?

What if there was a reason he left?

What if the chemistry between us is still as explosive as it was thirty years ago?

Stop it, Gina. That way lies madness.

I stand up, wobbling slightly as the wine hits me, and head to bed. Tomorrow, I'll be professional, poised Gina Long again. I'll forget the way Jeremy looked at me, the way my name sounded in his mouth.

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