Real Estate Ryan was first on the list.
“Don’t put too much thought into this,” Stella added, passing Ramiro’s Taco Shop and parking behind an Infinity SUV in front of the peach-colored house with the for-sale sign stuck into the lawn. “The man is a hunk and is motivated by money, based on the number of online photos he has with expensive bottles of champagne. All you need to do is charm him with that wonderful personality of yours, and, well, maybe this will help.” She reached over and pulled my blouse down in the middle to show more cleavage. “There. That’ll get his attention.”
I pulled my blouse back up to where a decent woman would keep it. “Behave.”
“I will make no such promise.” Stella sing-songed. “Operation Ka-Ching has begun. The only goal right now is to get him to ask you out. It has got to be his idea though, to engage his ego. Okay, we need to get rolling. The open house closes in twenty minutes.”
I was about to ring the bell when the front door flew open.
“Welcome.” Real Estate Ryan waved us in. “Come in. I’m Ryan, the listing agent for this wonderful home.”
“I’m Stella and this is Amber,” she said, gesturing to me as we entered.
We both stopped in the living room and did a three-sixty, admiring the beach-themed home, with overstuffed, contemporary white sofas, coral blue accent pillows, furniture made from driftwood and bamboo, and seashells on top of almost every surface.
I glanced up at the two surfboards hanging on the main wall, wondering how I was going to get Real Estate Ryan to ask me out.
“Are you looking for an IP or would this be an OO?” Real Estate Ryan asked.
I stared at him. “Sorry—I . . . uh . . . don’t understand what that means.”
“ROFL,” Real Estate Ryan said with a serious face. “Ever since I participated in ANAL, which stands for American Network of Acronym Lovers, my productivity has shot up four hundred percent. I use fewer words and shorter sentences to convey my thoughts with acronyms. When you work eighteen hours a day, time is money, IYKWIM. I have a serious passion for ANAL and acronyms are my new best friend.”
“But don’t you lose a lot of time repeating yourself when people don’t understand your acronyms?” Stella asked.
Real Estate Ryan waved her off. “That hardly ever happens.”
I nodded. “Uh-huh . . . And what does IYKWIM mean?”
“If you know what I mean.”
“What about IP and OO?”
“Investment property and owner occupied,” he said with a smile, even though his theory was shattered into bits. “BTW, have you two been in the market for a home for very long?”
“Oh . . .” I pointed to Stella. “We’re not a couple.”
Stella attempted to suppress a laugh. “Not even close. I have an unhealthy appetite for men.” She put her hand on her chest and giggled. “Oops. Did I say that out loud? TMI.”
Real Estate Ryan eyed her up and down, but it was hard to tell if he was grinning because of her curvaceous body or because he was impressed with the acronym she used.
What was Stella doing anyway?
Was she hitting on my future ex-husband?
What happened to our plan?
I glared at her to get her back on track, but she wasn’t even looking in my direction, the floozy. She was transfixed by Real Estate Ryan, which I kind of understood, since he was even better looking in person than his website photo. Still, that acronym thing of his was just plain weird and borderline annoying.
“But alas, someone has finally tamed the beast, and my heart is forever his,” Stella lied. “As for Amber, her life makes no sense to me. She’s smart and absolutely gorgeous, but men shy away from her, almost like they’re intimidated. Can you believe that?”
“No,” Real Estate Ryan said. “I mean, yes.”
He eyed me up and down as well.
Like magic, the attention was off Stella and onto me.
Okay, that was a good save on her part.