A Good Time

Chapter 1 Tequila was not her friend. Indy Adams couldn’t believe she’d forgotten that one simple rule last night. The drumbeat behind her eyeballs was a blatant reminder. When the guys at the bar offered her a shot after closing, she hadn’t seen the harm. Too many shots and a crappy night’s sleep later, she regretted every sip. She got out of her car and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare. If she’d planned better yesterday, she wouldn’t have had to get up early to come to the office now. She pulled open the door, and a waft of expensive perfume smacked her in the face and clogged her throat. Indy swallowed the gag and faced the exiting clients with a perfunctory smile. The woman clicked by in her Jimmy Choos, followed by her husband and Indy’s colleague Susan, real estate superstar. Indy ducked into the office hoping to avoid a conversation with Susan. The clock on the wall showed an hour until her meeting with Griffin. He’d finally decided to start his house hunt. Correction, his mansion hunt. The thought of selling a million-dollar house made her giddy. Her giddiness almost made her forget the hangover. She knew Griffin had hired her only because his best friend, Ryan, was marrying her sister, but she’d take any connection she could. She’d met Griffin casually on several occasions, usually at Ryan’s bar, but he’d put off the search and seeing houses for months. “Indy,” Susan said from behind her. Shit, she really wanted to escape without this. Every conversation with Susan bordered on hostile. “I hear your big client is finally ready to buy. I’d started to think you’d made the whole thing up.” After locating the codes she’d left tucked in her desk, Indy faced Susan and her usual pinched expression. “No, Susan, I don’t have to make up clients.” “Well, after you gloated about how much money this one would bring in, you dropped off the map.” “Well, I’m here, and now I’m off to show houses.” She waved the paper and turned to leave. She wouldn’t admit she’d gone back to waitressing because she needed the money. “You’re not going to show a house to a millionaire looking like that, are you?” Indy stalled in her tracks and turned cautiously. “Haven’t you ever wondered why you don’t attract more affluent clients? You don’t play the part. You have to act as though you belong in their world and you”—she paused and pointed at Indy’s outfit from shoulder to hem—“clearly don’t.” “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” Sure, she wasn’t as buttoned up as Susan, but she wasn’t dressed for clubbing either. “You look a little trampy, ready to flirt with whomever comes your way.” Heat crept up Indy’s neck and burned her ears. “I don’t flirt with clients.” Susan arched an eyebrow. “I’m friendly. You might want to try it sometime.” Indy shoved through the door. Anger gnawed her nerves like fire ants. She didn’t need to flirt to get the job done. Once in her car, she studied her clothes. Would Griffin not take her seriously because of how she dressed? Her stomach gave a little squish. She couldn’t honestly answer the question. Griffin had always flirted with her, but he flirted with everyone in social situations. She checked the time. If she hurried, she could stop at home to change.