Sitting down at the vanity in her bathroom wrapped in a thick, terrycloth robe, Carmela pushed her hair o her face with a headband and started doing her make up. She’d only gotten as far as foundation and eyeliner when her phone rang. Glancing at the stand where the phone was resting, she bit back a smile. The shark emoji gave away the caller’s identity and caused Carmela’s tired heart to pound.
“What could you possibly want so early?” Carmela said as she placed the call on speaker and started applying mascara.
“Why does everyone open their mouth when they do eye makeup?” Rhiannon asked while laughing.
For a split second, Carmela was confused. But it quickly turned to horror upon realizing Rhiannon had initiated a video call. Her eyes widened as she stared at her phone and the image of Rhiannon already in the o ce. If she hadn’t been so intent on not rewarding Rhiannon with a reaction, she would have slammed the phone down and insisted she hang up.
“Why the hell are you FaceTiming me?” Carmela asked, going for mild irritation instead of frantic panic. At least she’d been cold and pulled on a robe.
Rhiannon laughed. “I didn’t mean to. I must’ve hit the wrong button. You picked up so quick, I didn’t have time to hang up,” she explained a little too giddily.
The implication that Carmela was so eager to answer the phone she hadn’t let it ring more than once made her narrow her eyes. “Well, what do you want?”
“Right to business, huh? Not even a good morning?”
Rhiannon asked as she tucked a strand of light brown hair behind her ear.
Carmela rolled her eyes before continuing with what she was doing. If Rhiannon wanted to play games, she could play by herself.
“Does that mean you don’t want to know that I got a call about showing the house again today?” Rhiannon’s wiggling eyebrows in Carmela’s periphery accompanied the news.
“Who?”
“That older couple Liz is friends with. The Rosens,”
Rhiannon said with the triumphant smile of an Olympian.
Once the makeup on both of Carmela’s eyes matched, she focused her attention on the call. “What time?”
“In about thirty minutes. They have a flight to catch back to DC and want to squeeze it in before they head to the airport,” she explained.
Carmela chewed the inside of her lip. It was too late to reschedule with her clients and she couldn’t be in both places at once.
“So, I was thinking I’d grab us some co ee if you want to pick me up, and we can meet them there together,”
Rhiannon continued.
“I can’t. I’m meeting some other clients in an hour. Do you think you’re ready to handle it alone?” Carmela asked.
“Liz can go with you if you need—”
Rhiannon cut her o . “I think I know the house better than Liz. The agent isn’t even going. It’s just them. I can handle it.”
The hubris oozing from Rhiannon made Carmela nervous.
She could really do with a little less self-confidence. Selling this house was a delicate process and any little thing could wreck their chances.
“Don’t look like you’re jumping out of a plane with a sketchy parachute,” Rhiannon joked. “I won’t do anything but show them the house. They want to see what it looks like during the day. If they want to talk details, I’ll set up a conference call for this afternoon. Does that help your blood pressure return to normal?”
Carmela glared at the girl smirking back at her. “Say as little as humanly possible while still being friendly,” she warned. “Sophisticated clients have a way of being sneaky to get information. You might not even know they’re getting something out of you.”
Rhiannon raised her eyebrows expectantly. “You mean disarming an agent to get a better price on a house? I think I know how to spot that trick.”
“You’re terrible, you know that?” Carmela snapped when she realized that Rhiannon was thinking about the open house where they met.
Rhiannon laughed. “You love it.”
The sentiment raised the hair on the back of Carmela’s neck. “I have to finish getting ready,” she said, putting an end to the conversation. “I’ll be in as soon as I’m done with my clients to debrief,” she added, immediately regretting her choice of words.