Just One Night. Part 3 Read Online Free PDF Page B

after my divorce?”
    “Me, I guess.” We hardly knew each other then. I used to be an awesome friend when I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself all the time. Hank took so much from me. The question is, why did I let him?
    “Exactly. And that’s what led me to working for Malcolm.”
    Rolling my eyes, I respond. “And that’s worked out so well.”
    “As a matter of fact, it has. I got a raise today.” She grins huge.
    I narrow my eyes. “Tell me you didn’t blow him.”
    She slaps me hard enough to sting. “No, bitch, I did not blow him. I worked my ass off.”
    “Not bent over?”
    Another slap, but this time I laugh.
    “Ow, watch it.”
    “Stop acting like I’m a ho. I worked for it the regular way. And he finally gave me a little recognition.”
    “That was long overdue,” I say, reaching over and taking Mia’s waist into a hug. “Congrats. You’re awesome.”
    She pats me on the head. “I know. But it’s nice to know my boss acknowledges it officially.”
    We pull apart and I stare at her. She’s so pretty and smart and strong. “I wish I was more like you.”
    She reaches over and tries to fix my hair but gives up pretty quickly. “You’re way better off being you, trust me.” Taking me by the hand, she makes me stand and walks over to my couch. Sitting down, she drags me down with her so we can sit side-by-side. We put our feet up on the coffee table and both sigh at the exact same time.
    “So what’s the plan, Stan?” she asks. “New job, right?”
    I shrug. “I guess. I have no idea where, though.”
    “How about you call up William and ask him if there’s a position open for you?” She snort-giggles.
    “Very funny.”
    She whacks me on the upper arm with the back of her hand and sits up a little, suddenly excited. “No, wait, I’m serious.”
    I roll my eyes. “I will smother you with a pillow if I have to.”
    “No, really, listen.” She’s getting all amped up now, so I’m forced to turn around and give her my full attention. Otherwise, I’m likely to get hit again.
    “What?”
    “He deals in investment property. You have all kinds of investment property in your client base. Go sell him some of your stuff!” She bounces a few times on her cushion.
    “I need to hang my license with a broker. I can’t just walk around selling property as a freelance realtor.”
    “Hang it with him!” She grabs my arm and squeezes the crud out of it.
    “Ow, lemme go.”
    “No, listen!”
    “Geez, I’m listening, lighten up.”
    She lets me go and claps her hands several times rapidly. “He must have a broker’s license or know someone who does. Just go there and then show him your stuff. I don’t mean stuff as in your hootchie, of course, I mean, he’s already seen that … show him your properties.”
    Just the idea makes butterflies spontaneously appear and begin battle formations in my stomach. “No, I couldn’t do that.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because. Just … because.” Goosebumps break out all over my legs.
    She folds her arms across her chest and stops bouncing. “Give me one good reason. Just one, and I’ll let it go.”
    I shake my head.
    “One. That’s all you need to give me.” She’s teasing me now. I know this tone well; she senses victory on the horizon. Blood in the water.
    I throw up my hands. “Fine. You want one reason? It’ll make me look desperate. There. That’s your reason.”
    “Bullshit. It’ll make you look like a hungry businesswoman. You’re in sales , for God’s sake. Act like it.”
    “Yeah, but we slept together. Twice!”
    “Slept? Are you sure there was any sleeping involved?” She giggles again.
    I shove her but she goes nowhere. “Shut up.”
    “Seriously.” She’s giving me the disappointed look.
    “Seriously what?”
    “Seriously call him! What do you have to lose?”
    “My pride, maybe?” She can’t be serious. I hate being desperate, but even more so, I hate looking desperate. Ugh .
    “And how much is that worth