CHAPTER ONE
Miranda was ready to quit her new real estate career. After two weeks busting her butt
showing off ticky-tack suburban box homes to a lot of silly families with squawking kids,
Miranda had squat to show for it. Other than bunions on her feet, a sore throat and a ton
of "I told you so`s" from her smart ass husband Rob.
That`s when Mr. Wright, her boss, called her into his office and asked if she was ready
to stop fooling around and go to work for real.
She told him she thought she already was working, but he told her so far he`d been
letting her languish in the guppy pond, so he could whet her appetite for the real ocean.
"I didn`t hire you fresh out of real estate school for your knowledge of interest
rates and mortgages," said the balding, stocky Jeff Wright. "I hired you for
your physical assets, Miranda."
Miranda, her long auburn hair tied back in a pony tail, green eyes glazed, stood there in
shock. Had her boss really said something like that--in this day and age?
"I know, that`s considered harassment and all that bullshit," he acknowledged.
"And you can file a complaint with EOC if you want. In about two years, maybe you`ll
get enough money to buy a new pair of sneakers to stand in the fucking unemployment line.
Or, if you like, you can play board with us here at Centron One and make a shit load of
commissions off our flagship property. The listings we save for our high quality girls.
Our special girls."
He took her silence as an invitation to continue. Basically, she was in shock and had
been since his use of the word assets and her name in the same sentence.
"Our best clients are wealthy and powerful men," he explained. "They like
to be catered to by pretty women. Women like you. It`s a different mindset from you and
me, Miranda. They can buy whatever they want. Anything at all. Play along, get them in the
right mindset, and they will open their wallets. Big-time. And you can be there, to catch
the nicely sized crumbs off their table. So what do you think?"
She stared at him, open-mouthed. What did she think? She thought the man was either crazy
or ... completely evil. "But ... I don`t think I`m that pretty." She said the
first foolish thing that came into her head.
"Oh, I don`t know about that, sweetie. I doubt many men would kick you out of their
bed. I`ll tell you what," he put his hands behind his neck, fingers interlaced.
"Before you say no, take a little ride along with Cammie. Let her mentor you and see
if that doesn`t motivate you a little."
Miranda`s cheeks were deep crimson. Who the hell was he to talk about her ... in bed ...
with men? She ought to lean over his desk and slap him, or just run off. Had she sunk so
low, was she so desperate to find a way out of her lonely life?
Or was there something here that genuinely intrigued her? In a naughty kind of way. Could
it be a part of her wanted to play the bad girl, the vixen, for the first time in her
life?
"You know I`m married," she said.
"Yea," he shrugged. "A lot of the girls are. So what?"
"I have boundaries."
"Go with Cammie," he repeated. "Then we`ll talk."
Miranda agreed. What did she have to lose?
Her new mentor Cammie Wilson had long, gorgeous blonde hair, and a body to match. She was
trying to break into modeling and/or show business. In the meantime she sold houses.
Expensive ones in the canyon.
Miranda could see why men would fall all over themselves to please the woman, including
buying big houses. She was more than just attractive. She had that star quality thing
going.
Was that what this was about? Teasing and flirting?
"I think Jeff made a mistake with me. I`m not really good with men," Miranda
confided on the drive over in Cammie`s fully loaded luxury SUV. "I`m ... shy."
"No reason to be, Miranda. You`re a very attractive woman."
Miranda resisted the urge to argue. Only one man had ever made her feel attractive. And
that was Rob, during their first two years. The good ones. Before the other two had
followed. Bad to worse.
"You just watch and learn," Cammie assured her. I`ll show you what makes a
house showing really special."
The first clue that Cammie`s showings were indeed "special" came as soon as
they arrived, winding their way up the long, driveway to find the prospective buyer
already waiting, practically drooling at the front door of the twenty room split-level.
"Lucky me," grinned a turtle-necked athletic man in his late forties as Cammie
and Miranda got out of the SUV. "Two for the price of one."
"She`s a trainee," said Cammie, sidling past him in blue high heels and a
tight, blue skirt and company blazer. "I`m the one you`re dealing with."
"Suit yourself." The salt and pepper man in the black shirt and pants winked at
Miranda. "It`s your loss."
God, he was practically leering. And with Miranda, a married woman, too. Albeit, not a
particularly happy one at the moment, what with her husband Rob`s seemingly endless stream
of sarcasm floating in a bed of indifference.
"Cammie, I think I should wait in the car."
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