Page 8 of Thanks for the Friendship
She chuckles before getting off the phone. I guess that was her answer.
A few seconds later my phone buzzes again with another message from Diane.
I’ll have both potato salad and coleslaw, so not to worry.
Oh, good—now I’ll be able to sleep without stressing over side dishes.
Great.
Diane might be over the top, but in this business it’s smart to maintain good relationships. And you never know who Diane could bring into my life. Hopefully more clients, and word of mouth goes a long way in the world of real estate sales.
* * *
I pull up in front of the Hillards’ house, and I can already see that Diane has put her own style into the home. The porch is decorated with potted plants, large lanterns, and a massiveWelcome Homesign. Several cars are lining the street, and I pull in behind a white BMW. I reach for the bottle of wine and check my makeup in my mirror. I’m wearing a white tank top with a long flowing black maxi skirt. My hair is full of loose waves cascading down my back.
The Hillards’ new home is gorgeous, which is one of the reasons it was such a difficult sale. There were several offers on it, and I had to work my magic to make it happen.
I ring the doorbell, and a few seconds later Diane pulls open the door.
“Lila, you made it.”
For some reason she seems surprised to see me. Maybe she thought I wouldn’t actually show up.
She’s wearing a knee-length blue T-shirt dress with the tackiest sparkly blue sandals I’ve ever seen. They look like an even uglier version of crocs. I know some people love those shoes, but I’m just not a fan. Are they plastic? Rubber? Does anyone really know?
“You know I wouldn’t miss the first party in your new home,” I say, handing her the bottle of wine.
She pats me on the arm. “That’s what I told Dave, but he kept telling me not to get my hopes up. We know you’re a busy girl.”
I smile. “Never too busy for my favorite clients.”
If there’s one thing my father taught me about sales, it’s to always make clients feel like they are the most important.
“Come in and meet everyone. Sara is already here.”
I follow her through the house as she introduces several of the guests. She stops to pick up her signature bottle of Mountain Dew and takes a long sip.
“Sara,” she calls. “Come and meet Lila.”
A petite, pretty blonde woman walks toward us. She’s wearing the same outfit as me—a white tank top and black maxi skirt.
“Nice outfit,” I say.
“You too,” she exclaims.
“See, I knew you’d hit it off,” Diane says knowingly. “You’re even dressed as twins.”
“Aunt Diane has been wanting us to meet for months,” Sara says. “She speaks so highly of you, and this house is fantastic. Thanks for all your hard work to help them get it.”
Hearing this makes the hours and the countless text messages worth it.
“I’m so happy it worked out,” I say. “Seeing my clients so happy means the world to me.”
“I already told Sara that you and your man broke up. I’m sure her handsome boyfriend has some single doctor friends,” Diane sings, elbowing me in the side.
Oh, good. I’m so glad my relationship status has been a topic of conversation.
“Well, that’s very nice, but I’m taking a much needed break from relationships right now,” I remind her.
