Page 1 of Thanks for the Friendship
Chapter One
Some days I absolutely love my job, and today is one of those days. It’s those moments when the stars align and everything falls into place despite a rocky journey that really gives me all the feels. And truthfully, closing this real estate deal for my clients, the Hillards, was a freaking miracle. It takes a lot to stress me out, and this particular deal had me questioning the whole meaning of life. Lots of hours and even more wine—and finally it’s done.
“Cheers to Lila Barlow, real estate genius and my new best friend,” Diane Hillard announces, holding up her bottle of Mountain Dew. Every time I see the woman, she’s drinking the Dew.
Yuck. Of all the flavors of soda on the planet earth—that’s what she chooses. I think the last time I indulged in the neon green beverage was sometime in college or on a road trip with my parents. Everyone knows you can’t take a road trip without the mandatory gas station stops to get all the junk food. Regardless, Diane Hillard is obsessed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without a bottle—although I guess there are worse things to be addicted to, like street drugs or reality TV.
“Thank you,” I reply, flashing her a broad smile. Part of her statement is true—the part about me being a real estate genius, not us being besties.
“You earned every dime of your commission,” she adds. Her husband hasn’t said much, but that’s typical. How could he? He’s rarely able to get a word in when his wife is on a roll.
I continue with my smiling and nodding. Heck yes, I earned my commission. I’m not going to mention the endless phone calls and texts at all hours from Mrs. Hillard. I considered blocking her number for half a second, but that wouldn’t have been a good business decision.
“I’m glad everything worked out, and I have no doubt that you’re going to enjoy every second in your forever home.” My tone is very sincere. I do wish them all the happiness in their new place.
“I’ve waited so long for this house,” Diane says, opening her soda bottle which makes a loud hissing sound. “Have I told you about our experience back in Minnesota?”
Hmm … only about two hundred times.
I don’t have a chance to answer before she repeats the same story I’ve listened to multiple times over the last few months.
Diane and her husband, Dave are officially retired and left the north for year-round sunshine and beaches. They had a miserable experience dealing with the sale of their home in Minnesota, and I’ve been a life savior for them—at least that’s what I’ve been told.
“I have to text Sara,” Diane announces, grabbing her phone.
Sara is the daughter of her best friend, but she refers to her as her niece. Sara’s been living in Miami for a few years. Diane wants us to meet and become friends because we’re both fun and spunky (her words). It’s obvious she’s very fond of Sara. Diane says Sara is like the daughter she never had.
“Speaking of which, I texted her yesterday, and I still haven’t heard back from her.” She adds, looking perplexed, “That’s not like her.”
I press my lips together. Poor Sara. I wonder if Diane texts her as much as she does me.
While she’s preoccupied with trying to reach her, I begin to gather my things, hinting that I’m ready to leave. I’m meeting my roommates for dinner, and I’m sure the Hillards want to visit their new home now that it officially belongs to them.
“There she is,” Diane exclaims, not looking up from her phone. “Aww … she says congrats and she’s excited for us.”
She quickly begins typing on her phone, while her husband looks completely uninterested.
“Lila, I’m planning a housewarming party in a few weeks, and you need to come so you can finally meet Sara.”
Hmm … one thing about me is that I love a good party. Food, drinks, socializing—I’m there.
“Of course, I’ll be happy to stop by if I’m available,” I say.
“And bring your boyfriend along.”
I tighten my jaw. “Okay.”
That’s if I still have a boyfriend in a few weeks. Things have been pretty tense between my boyfriend Jordan and me lately. And none of it is his fault. He’s an amazing man, but I’m just not sure he’s right for me. Who knows though? Is there such a thing as a soulmate? I used to believe there was—I guess it depends who you ask.
My roommates, Gabby and Reagan, are both in the honeymoon phases of their relationships, but I don’t think I’ve found my happily ever after—yet.
“Lila?” Diane calls, waving her stupid Mountain Dew in my face, the carbonated bubbles floating to the top of the bottle.
“I’m sorry—I must have zoned out,” I say, snapping to attention.
“I understand. It’s been an exciting day for all of us.”
“Indeed. And I should get going,” I say. “I’m sure you’re excited to get to the house.”
