Scrub pine and distant mountains fly past the tinted windows of my Lexus as I follow the winding rural road out to the lake property. The car accelerates smoothly underneath me, and I enjoy the scenery with a satisfied glow. On my way home last night from Derek’s apartment, I lined up three prospective buyers—all highly interested and more than able to afford this property—and then arranged to stay at the house through the weekend. Derek was more than happy to send the entry codes. I’ll have time to stage anything needed, show the house, and spend the time in between swimming, maybe do some running.

Damn, it’ll be good to get a break. I’ve had showings for at least five weekends straight, and probably more often than not for months before that. The pressure to perform seems to have intensified right when a sales slump hit me, the worst I’ve had in years. So I’ve been busting my ass so hard, I can’t even remember the last time I went on a date, much less got any further than that. I wonder if anyone in my cell phone’s contacts remembers my name and would be down for a fun weekend. My balls ache just thinking about it. The memory of Audrey standing in front of the window of the penthouse pushes forward in my thoughts, and I shove her sexy figure to the back.

Too late. My pants tighten, so I shift in my seat and think about work. I congratulate myself again on getting ahead of this thing. Hell, I could have a deal in the pipeline before Audrey even manages to show the house. I’ve got a couple nibbles on the penthouse as well, but that one’s a lot less fun. And a smaller commission. Finally, my car’s GPS tells me to turn, and I still almost miss the drive, shrouded in thick greenery.

A graceful weeping willow stands sentry just before a wide, lush lawn. Its trailing limbs almost brush over the top of my car as I roll under. At the far end near the house, another willow leans over a small pond ringed with a rock garden full of exotic-looking succulents. The stone and wood house looks like a modern castle, with soaring lines and tall windows alongside a round tower and stone arches. A shaded veranda wraps around most of the house, ending in a glass-walled sunroom that’s currently flooded with late morning light. A stone path snakes around toward the front of the house and slopes down to the dock. The place sits in a secluded cove, and the next house isn’t even in sight along the shore.

Behind the house and through the picture windows, the lake sparkles invitingly. As I step out of my car, I sweep a glance over the grounds. A fresh breeze carries the scent of water and cut grass. I stretch a little, mentally noting the features I’ll want to highlight to buyers. Impeccably maintained grounds, screened-in porch for comfortable evenings, picturesque stone benches by the pond that would be great for family portraits, two car garage…complete with a sleek black Land Rover. What the fuck? According to Derek, this place should be deserted, including staff.

I sneak around the house, ducking under windows. If someone’s robbing the place, I’ll need to stay out of sight until I can call the police. And if Claire’s bonking the groundskeeper in the master suite, that’ll need to be cleaned up before my buyers arrive.

Around front, I find more signs of trespass. A red and white bikini hangs over an Adirondack chair on the front lawn, which is as immaculately kept as the back. I flinch when ethereal cello music begins piping over the lake from hidden speakers. I’m leaning toward naughty wife at this point, until the homey smell of something baking floats to me on the lake breeze. Muffins, I’ll bet.

A movement catches my eye, and I sneak toward the closest window.

I peer inside at the large, modern kitchen. It’s got marble counters, stainless appliances, a butcher block island, and fucking Audrey leaning against the countertop as she nibbles a muffin. It’s just like her. She always brought stupidly tasty muffins and scones into the office with unexpected combinations. Lemon rosemary, blueberry thyme, ginger orange. The memory brings a familiar—and unwelcome—warmth.

Hell, no. Memory lane is not the place my mind needs to be. And she only did that shit to kiss up to the support staff. She always wanted people to like her, probably to hide the fact that she’d stab them in the back if it got her ahead. So how am I going to get rid of her? I will chop off my left nut before I let her get these sales.

Something buzzes close to my ear, and I stumble into a shrub as I duck away and swat at the thing. I step backward onto the plush grass just as Audrey’s pale, surprised face appears at the window.

Well, dammit.

I stomp around to the back door, hoping I’ll cool down on the way. Nope. I jab at the keypad, step into the stone-floored entry hall, and meet Audrey coming toward me. She wears a half-guilty, half-angry look.

“What are you doing here?” I start. At the same time, she yells some version of the same question at me.

“This is just like you, sneaking around to get what you want.” I let my disgust show on my face.

“Oh, please,” she snaps. “You’d sell your mother for the right commission.”

“Don’t try to take the moral high ground, Audrey. I know you. Why didn’t you let me know you were planning to be here?”

“Um, same reason you didn’t, probably. Unless I missed a text from you?” Red tints her cheeks. “You’re going to have to leave. Claire gave me permission to stay the weekend.”

“Forget that. I’ve got three buyers coming this weekend. I’m not driving back and forth to the city every time. I’m staying, and I cleared it with Derek yesterday.” I cross my arms.

“Well, you’re slow. Claire and I agreed on this before I left the building. I got here last night and already showed it once this morning. Sweet couple. They loved it, by the way.” She shakes a russet lock of hair back away from her face. “So if anyone’s leaving, it’s you.”

“So you could have mentioned it when we agreed to coordinate showings to avoid this kind of situation, but you didn’t.”

“And you could have texted to let me know when you finally came up with the same idea later, which would also have prevented this, and you decided against it. Why is that, Caleb? It was your idea, after all.”

“Fine.” I spin and walk out to the car, fuming the whole way. There goes my relaxing weekend. There goes any shred of comfort. Being in the same room with her is like sitting on nails. She’s still waiting when I walk back in with my overnight bag.

“I’m already in the master bedroom, so find somewhere else to sleep.”

“Are you implying that I’d try to get in bed with you? Sorry, sweetheart, that ship sailed.”

She presses her lips together and shakes her head. “Try an upstairs bedroom. If you’re going to be here, stay away from me.”

“With pleasure.” After I shove my bag in a closet, I check the bathroom mirror. To recover my focus, I check the line of my shirt’s buttons to be sure they’re aligned over the zipper of my wrinkle-free khakis, refasten my belt, and press my fingers over the crisp fold of my collar. I’m dressed down for the lake property, but I refuse to be sloppy.

Downstairs, Audrey’s taking another batch of muffins out of the oven. She whirls when I step on the stairs, waiting for the next round.

She’s closed off, like me. Arms crossed, eyebrows knitted together, nostrils flared. Except on her it’s hot. Don’t focus on the way her full breasts are pushed together, the way her fast, angry breathing draws my attention straight to them. Don’t think about that bikini out back, for god’s sake, or her in it. Think about the job. I stare behind her head at the lake, hoping the light off the water will temporarily blind me.

After taking a minute, I can admit that I underestimated Audrey’s drive and grit. She’s definitely as eager as I am to make this sale, even if she acts like a new age bakery owner. I respect that about her, at least.

I let my arms fall and make an effort to loosen up. “You know, Claire and Derek could have prevented this too if they spoke to each other, but we’re out of luck there.” I force a chuckle, a sort of peace offering.

She huffs a sigh of agreement, the closest she’ll ever come to criticizing a client, and relaxes her stony glare.

She takes a deep breath, treating me to another heave of her lovely chest, and drops her arms as well. “Okay, let’s make the best of this then. There’s certainly enough room here to stay out of each other’s way.”

“I’ll write down the times I have people coming this weekend, if you’ll do the same. I’ll create a shared calendar like you suggested, and after this we can update rather than communicate directly.” Since she clearly is as reluctant as I am to reopen old channels.

“Sure. That’ll work. Just so there’s no misunderstanding, Caleb, I’m not sitting on my thumbs for this. I have every intention of going after these sales aggressively. I wouldn’t want you to think I was being sneaky by doing my job.”

I bristle at her snarky tone, but control myself, if only to have the upper hand.

“Thanks for letting me know,” I say coolly. “I’m sure you can guess that I plan to do the same. I’ll set up that calendar this evening, and we can avoid each other much more effectively.” I check my watch with an exaggerated motion. “Oh hey, I’ve got a client arriving in a few minutes. I’d planned to go over the house and stage things, so if you don’t mind…”

“I’ll get out of your way,” she says sweetly. She’s caught up to my kill ‘em with kindness game. “I’m just going to change and go for a quick swim.”

She’ll be out of the house, at least. But then she’s going to come back in half naked and dripping wet. And I’ll be annoyed and turned on at the same time. I concede she might be an evil genius. She has to know I’ll be picturing her, in the water, in that bikini, the whole time I’m showing this house.