Page 51 of Love's a Glitch
Had Charles sent him in his place?
Wait. Charles. Chuck. Dammit.Did this mean I’d been insulting his father the entire time?
“Just please pretend we don’t know each other,” I whispered. “Then, after we survive this meeting, I’m gonna need you to explain what the hell is going on.”
24
Luke
Eloise Kostas was Ellie.
Despite going by my middle name, I hadn’t thought much of her name, and whether it was a nickname or shortened version of her name. I could see the correlation now, although I would’ve guessed Eleanor if I’d done any assuming, and yeah, I should’ve asked. Both if Ellie was short for something, and for her surname.
What I struggled to see any correlation to, no matter how hard I looked, was how Ellie and Eloise were the same people. The woman who’d psychoanalyzed my family and convinced them to listen to reason had also called me old, told me my tastes were wrong and outdated, and insisted I stop being so closed-minded.
Not that I’d played nice, either.
“…emphasized the parts of your company you relayed were most important to you. On the left side, we have the simpler design, its only functionality, well, function. In the middle, I’ve added a feature where you mouse over…” She demonstrated, and the property, with the details about square footage, year built, and the listed price came up.
Time to put on my business hat. My mind conjured a top hat, and then I was thinking of Ellie teasing me about pulling a rabbit out of it. Damn, this meeting was going to be more difficult to get through than I originally expected. “Prices change so often, and we like people to have to leave their information to inquire.”
The corner of Ellie’s eye twitched, the irritation morphing her into Eloise Kostas, writer of the snarky emails. “As for gathering their information, they have to log in for this feature to show more details, or to request more information. Admittedly, I’m always annoyed at being forced to sign up, but I understand the reasoning from a data-gathering perspective, and that it weeds out looky-loos. As for the price change, I anticipated that and coded it to be linked to the files with the master sheet. Heather mentioned that she updates that once a week.”
Heather nodded, and I’d forgotten that my assistant and Ellie—Eloise—spoke over the phone multiple times as well. “Unless we have a shift in price earlier, then I’ll slide it in. If there are bids on it, I also update that.”
“Like with the property on Girard.” Ellie moved the mouse and the caption changed to say “currently accepting aggressive, competitive bids,” along with the date they needed to be turned in by.
“The third option would allow people to click…” Again, she demonstrated. “And upload their offer right then and there. They’d of course have to enter their real estate license, which the system automatically checks and is able to filter out any offers that aren’t genuine and verified.”
Technology was another language entirely, involving a whole lot more than the slight-of-hand tricks involved in card tricks and stage magic. Once again, I was out of my league, wondering why Henry and Dad thought I’d be the best person for the job. Although the photos I’d taken of the properties did look extra amazing on the website, if I did say so myself. “I’m just not sure that our older clientele would be able to submit bids that way. We don’t want to shove them out of the game because they can’t keep up with new technology. Hell, even I struggle sometimes.”
The tiniest crack of a smile tilted Ellie’s mouth, and sunshine suffused my soul. If I wasn’t careful, I’d choose whatever she told me to. If my gut agreed, that’d be one thing, but I didn’t want to hear how the only time I’d come home in years was to destroy the family business before skipping off into the sunset on another adventure.
“Most people find the idea more overwhelming than the actual doing. Businesses who shrug off the need to advance along with consumer and technological changes don’t stick around long.”
Ellie rattled off a handful of examples, all that’d gone bankrupt or required investors to bail them out and enact extreme changes.
I steepled my fingers and pressed them under my chin, and by the way Ellie tracked the motion, her pupils dilating, I wasn’t the only one struggling to keep my thoughts on the professional side. “While I understand that, one of the things I admire about real estate is that the basics stay the same. One party has a property, another party wants it, and a deal is struck.”
“Then why list your properties on a website at all? Hire the Pony Express to take out the listing sheets and have the rider shout out the details on street corners.”
“Eloise,” her boss scolded, and I barely stifled a laugh.
“Only kidding.” Ellie’s sheepish grin held a hint of smugness. “While the basics are still in place, lockboxes on doors now require cell phone apps to retrieve the keys. Older real estate agents struggled at first—as I can attest from standing outside a condo for twenty minutes one day—but by the next showing, that woman got it open in five. Due to the competitive nature of real estate in southern California, I doubt the older generations will take long to get on board. No one likes to lose to whippersnappers, am I right?”
Ellie snort-laughed at her own joke, and when I joined in, Heather gaped at me as though I’d never shown an emotion in front of her before. Which come to think of it, might be accurate.
On the far right side of the screen, pictures continued flashing, constantly on the go before I could get a good look. “What’s that?”
“Ooh, this is this super cool thing that”—Ellie clicked the box I’d indicated and frowned. She typed numbers into it, but they kept disappearing. “It was working this morning. There are bugs that need to be worked out here and there. Much like a cell phone update. A day or two, and things are smooth sailing for everyone.”
“It’s that day or two I worry about.”
“People are obsessed with the newest and shiniest, and always will be. If you attempted to keep your old phone, eventually it wouldn’t even support your apps. When it comes to the concrete jungle, that’s the circle of life.”
Perhaps, yet I wasn’t sold on all the bells and whistles. I did my best to separate my affinity for Ellie from the presentation, and my aversion to the last panel with the constantly flashing images from what was best for Coastal Luxury Realty. On Saturday, I was going to have to show off what I’d chosen at the annual yacht party, too, while all the partners and investors, as well as their significant others, family members, and friends, oohed and ahhed or booed and scoffed.
While I’d rejected their offer to be a full-time desk jockey, that didn’t mean I’d want to leave my family in the lurch or tarnish the company name and legacy. It wouldn’t be fair to stick them with a gaudy website and then flee, even if it might serve them right for sticking me with this task in the first place.
