of you yet,' Liz teased. 'But if you tell me what's got you all off kilter, I'll try to restrain myself from harassing you too badly.'
Lacey hesitated. If she told Liz about her infatuation with one of the Kingston Brothers then her friend was going to pressure her to contact him, and make plans to ride him like Secretariat as soon as physically possible.
Liz was not one for playing games when it came to the opposite sex. Or anything else for that matter. The attractive red-head knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to ask for it. And when she met a man she liked she wanted it quick, dirty, and with no strings attached. Unlike Lacey, who was sadly repressed when it came to sex, at least according to her more adventurous friend.
Maybe Liz would have some good advice, Lacey thought. Liz was certainly more successful with men that she was. It couldn't hurt just to get her perspective, could it?
'Well, I met one of the Kingston Brothers at an Open House, and now I'm contemplating cyberstalking him. But I can't quite seem to make myself go past the home page of their website. It just seems like I'm invading his privacy, or something.'
'Oh my God! Are you serious? You finally met someone non-repulsive and non-gay, and you can't even look him up online? I would have had a Private Dick and a credit check on his ass by now.' Liz snatched the business card Lacey had propped beside her keyboard. 'He even gave you his card? Why don't you just call him? Cyberstalking is for obsessed Justin Bieber fans anyway.'
Lacey snatched the card back. 'Small problem. I don't know his name.'
'I thought you said you met him.'
'Well, I sort of met him. My mom and I spent an hour and a half with him yesterday. He gave us an extended tour of one of his properties.'
'Sounds really sexy, being chaperoned by your mom and all,' Liz scoffed. 'But I don't get it. Isn't his name on the card.'
'I'm sure it is, but I have no idea what it might be. All I know is that the real estate agent called him, 'Jay'. But if you look at the card, all four Kingston Brothers are listed, and all four of their names start with the letter 'J.'
'So, you were hoping that you could find a picture of him on the website and match it to one of the names. I get it. Pretty smart. And then you'll call him.'
'Nope. No way.'
'Why the hell not?'
'Because I'm pretty sure I've embarrassed myself enough. I was thinking we had this amazing chemistry, but it turns out that he wasn't interested in me.'
'Then why are you contemplating the cyberstalk?'
'I don't know exactly. I guess it just seems weird to not even know the name of the guy who just crushed me.'
'Do you want me to do it?' Liz grabbed the chair from across the desk, set it down beside Lacey and began nudging her away from the computer screen. 'Here. Scooch over.' Lacey obediently scooched and found herself sitting kitty-corner from her usual position in front of the screen. She could see the back of the monitor, but not the actual screen. Oddly enough, this really did make her feel somewhat less creepy. It made Liz, however, seem positively desperate to check out the guy Lacey was interested in. Was it just her imagination, or was there a predatory gleam in Liz's eyes?
'What does he look like. I'll check the website for pictures. All you'll have to do is tell me, in detail, what he looks like. Go slow now, and don’t leave anything dirty out.'
'Well, he's big. 6'3 or 6'4.'
'Yum. But I thought we had a pact. Anyone over six feet is my territory. All the shrimps are yours.'
'Just because you're an Amazon, does not mean you automatically have jurisdiction on tall guys. I happen to like 'em big too.'
'I'm pretty sure you agreed to this stipulation on our friendship last time I beat you at pool. Fine. See if I care. But if I meet a cute guy who comes up to my belly-button, I'm not saving him for you. Come to think of it. A guy that height would have some very useful applications.' Liz said with a lecherous grin.
Lacey just rolled her eyes.
'Alright. You've obviously lost your sense of humor. What else? I'm looking at a family photo now.'
'Well, he has green eyes,' Lacey said, dreamily. 'And longish straight dark hair. Not 80s ponytail style, but longish on the top and short in the back.'
'Oh my God. Does he have a mullet? You're into a guy with a mullet?'
'No, you idiot. A mullet is long in the back and short in the front.'
'Are you sure? I may have to look that up.'
'I'm sure. But look it up later. Focus on stalking now. Have you found him?'
'Ummm…I think I may have. But you're not going to like what I've found.'
'What? Is it a bad picture? Does he have a mullet? It must be an old picture.'
'No mullet. But he has something much worse.'
'What? He's not wearing one of those terrible tuxedo T-shirts, is he?'
'Lace. He has a wife.'
'What? He does not!'
“I’m afraid he does. Here. Take a look.” Liz turned the screen toward Lacey, and pointed to a picture of Lacey’s fantasy man, with his arm around an unsmiling blonde woman. “Is that him?” Liz asked.
Lacey leaned forward until her face was practically pressed against the screen and read the short bio beside the picture, which mentioned his education and also the fact that he was married to his college sweetheart. After a minute she pulled back and covered her face with her hands. “I don’t believe it. How could I be so stupid? I swear, I had no idea. He didn’t wear a ring, and he certainly did not act married.”
'I wouldn't feel too bad about it, Lace. He's probably just a big flirt. Probably helps to sell houses, you know. He throws out these signals to get women interested in the property, and then when the offer is made, he acts like it's all in their head. Classic salesman trick.'
'Are you serious? People do that?'
'C'mon. You see those barbie-clone pharmaceutical reps come in here all the time. They flirt with the doctors, take them out for lunch, hang off them, just so the idiot docs will prescribe whatever sample they're peddling that week. This guy probably does something similar. I mean, wouldn't you rather buy a house from someone hot, who's into you, rather than a troll, who ignores you?'
'I suppose, but he really didn't seem the schmoozy type?'
'All part of the act, I'm sure. If he was too smooth, you'd probably run the other way, right?'
'Maybe.' It made a weird kind of sense. She had been right all along. A stud-muffin like him really couldn't be interested in her. She was just a mark. Some poor lonely woman who could be charmed into giving over her life savings with just a flirtatious smile and some intense eye contact. All that chemistry was just in her head. Or he'd somehow fabricated it. Maybe he sprayed pheromones all over himself to get women all hot and bothered? Just to sell a house?
Oh my God, Lacey thought to herself. That's exactly what he did. She had practically rubbed against him like a cat in heat when she’d been trying to unlock that door yesterday. So humiliating. She had given serious thought to throwing herself at that man. Even after he'd hurt her feelings yesterday, she had still been toying with the idea of trying to get hold of him somehow. Obviously, whatever part of her brain was in control of character assessment must be on the fritz. Damn pheromones were clouding her judgment.
How could she be so wrong about a person? He had seemed so wonderful. And yet all evidence suggested he was either a phony or a player, or possibly both. Well, he really deserved some credit for his acting skills. But she wasn't having anything more to do with him. And this time she meant it. She was no one's fool.
Subject: Still looking for a scaled down version?
From: Serena Garrison ‹[email protected]›
To: [email protected]›
