You're So Vain: A Royal Haters to Lovers Romance (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers Book 4)

by Whitney Dineen

  I don’t usually have any trouble with the other agents because I don’t engage in office drama. Also, most of them aren’t the least bit threatened by me. Hence, they barely give me the time of day.

  They battle with each other all the time over who’s going to secure the newest jaw-dropping listing. They fight dirty to win the business of the latest Hollywood star or the most recent tech refugee from the Silicon Valley. I just keep my head down and don’t participate in their realtor Hunger Games.

  I do, however, go to their open houses and support them. While they’re competitive (like real estate is a blood sport), I need to see every house I can in order to find the perfect dwellings for my clients.

  Not all my clients are single and looking for love. As a matter of fact, I have almost as many married couples as single ones. The married ones, who know about my extra talent, are looking for homes where their union will flourish.

  As previously mentioned, those homes aren’t always where my clients imagine they’ll live. It can be hard to convince someone that Pasadena is where their happy ending is waiting when their heart is set on the Palisades.

  While you might think my sixth sense would make me the most successful broker in the office, you’d be wrong. This is LA. It’s the land where artifice is king or, as every casting director this side of Studio City will tell you, the place where you have to look the part you want to be cast as.

  If you’re in, or adjacent to, the entertainment industry in any way, that generally means going to the right parties, dating the right kind of people, and living in the right neighborhood.

  I’ve had a lot of clients who don’t take my advice, and a good number of them are perfectly happy. True love isn’t as important to them as projecting the right image.

  Most image-conscious clients choose to work with brokers like Skylar, Lucy, Crenshaw, or the other gals in my office. They want to buy their monolithic homes from somebody who looks like their idea of perfection. If that were my criteria, I’d have to move to the Midwest where people are inherently more real looking.

  As soon as I park my car and walk into the office, I notice everyone huddled around my desk. They’re staring at a giant vase of flowers that wasn’t there earlier today. I hurry over, using my elbows to part the crowd when necessary, and pull the card out of Lucy’s hands. It reads:

  I’m ready to buy love. When can we meet? Jonathan Silver

  Read it here.