Chapter 4 : The New Guy

Simone

Well f*ck. Of course Rob would be hot as shit. I was honestly baffled when he walked into the café to meet for our appointment. It was always good to meet clients in a neutral territory to get an idea of their interests and needs. Meeting in the office would be too stuffy–not to mention the potential for drama. And until I knew what kind of house Rob needed, it wouldn't make sense to meet him at a home and waste the valuable time of both of us.

It was his idea to meet at the café–a chic, modern joint outside of the strip. It had a clean, nearly sterile feel to it. There wasn't much charm, but maybe that was the draw for these kind of tech guys. They weren't looking for cozy and warm; they thrived on codes, numbers, and efficiency. Everything in their life needed to match that. At least, that was my impression from the handful of Silicon Valley tycoons I'd met.

Rob wasn't like that at all, though. My first thought was that he was the opposite of all of the things I'd come to know about big tech guys. He wasn't awkward or an arrogant douchebag. He didn't have a desperately frazzled personality. Everything about him screamed laid back and down to… find a house.

He gave me a warm, toothy grin and extended his hand to me. I stood up from the table, glad I'd opted for a slightly lower pair of shoes. He wasn't short necessarily, but he was only a few inches taller than me and would look absolutely minuscule next to Michael.

Damnit. I needed to find a way to stop thinking about Michael.

Rob's eyes were quite an adequate distraction. Though they were hidden behind the thick, square frames of his glasses, they were the same blue as the hottest part of a fire. It wasn't just the color, but the way they sparkled and danced. There was a hint of mischief in them, a challenge.

"It's so nice to meet you, Rob," I said as we both sat down. I had a small cup of black coffee resting next to me. This was the kind of place where they'd probably hang you for adding anything remotely interesting to enhance the flavor. The creamer options were limited, and don't even think about asking for flavored syrup. I noticed Rob's eyes glued to my hands.

"I'm so sorry," he said with no warning. "The coffee here is absolute shit. I should have asked you to meet me somewhere nicer."

I gave him a small smile. "It's okay, I can write this off as a business expense," I said, holding up the cup and wrinkling my nose. "And it's still better than what they serve at the office."

This made him laugh. And though it wasn't strictly true–the office actually had a lovely selection of single-serve coffee pods, an espresso machine, and a drip-coffee maker–office jokes were the great equalizer.

"The thing is," he went on, "I was really nervous about this meeting. I wanted to pick a place I'd spent a lot of time in. Then I realized that this isn't exactly everyone's cup of tea… or coffee. But most of the guys I work with love having meetings here, so it just made sense and… God, am I rambling? I'm rambling. I'm so sorry!"

He was absolutely adorable. Despite his handsome looks, I very much doubted that he was any kind of lady killer. He'd probably spent too much time working at a computer in a dark room. I wondered briefly if he even knew how attractive he was. He certainly hadn't done much to emphasize his looks.

For instance, his glasses were totally the wrong style for his face. They were too large for one thing, but they also looked like they would fit better on the nose of an 80-year-old. His clothes were fairly basic, and looked pretty well worn. He had on a simple black T-shirt under a conservative navy blazer. They were probably designer brands that cost more than my car, but he either bought them used or wore them often. The collar was slightly stretched out and the jacket had pieces of string sticking out in random places.

Then there was his hair. It was slightly curly and totally unruly. He clearly tried to make some effort with it–I knew from my own hair experience that curls like that required serious hydration and upkeep. But he clearly didn't know what to do with it. His hair was going in every direction, in a way that looked like a woman had been running her hands through it while screaming out his name.

F*ck I needed to get laid.

Not by Rob, though. Not by Michael either. By someone who wasn't a client. And from now on, I would have to only show listings to women or couples. This was getting ridiculous.

"It's really okay," I said as I gave Rob a warm smile. "Everyone is nervous when they buy a house. There are so many decisions that have to be made, and you always wonder if you should trust your gut or move quickly on a house you're not totally in love with."

"It's a lot like dating," he chuckled, his laugh slightly panicked. He was loosening up a bit, but I could tell his nerves were still fried.

"So pretend that I'm a dating app," I said, trying to be encouraging. "Tell me a little bit about you and a little bit about your dream home. I'll play matchmaker and get you two together."

This made him smile more genuinely. So he opened up to me and told me a little bit of his story. He and his childhood best friend took a coding class together and fell in love with it. They fiddled around with algorithms and website development until college when they sold their first software for a million dollars.

As if that weren't impressive enough, they were wise enough to use that money to start their own company. For the last decade, they'd been creating software and code for billion-dollar companies. In fact, they now were a multi-billion-dollar company thanks to Rob's business savvy.

Still, you wouldn't know it if he didn't tell you directly. The clothes, the glasses, and the hair all spoke to a certain humility. He was richer than God, but he didn't flaunt it. He was very much still a nerdy high schooler with a love of coding and big dreams. And now a desire for a 10-million-dollar home.

"I really want a place that's quiet but not too quiet. I want neighbors, but I don't necessarily want to see them every day," he was saying.

I nodded and typed a few notes into my iPad, trying to come up with some ideas of neighborhoods to show him.

"I'm thinking maybe four bedrooms and three bathrooms," he continued. "That way if my family ever visits, they'll have plenty of space without being in my bubble."

At this, he sighed deeply. Just from our short interaction, I could tell that he was a sweet guy who really did love people. On the other hand, he was a man who needed his own space. He seemed to be an extreme introvert who was trying to navigate an extremely social world.

"And if I could have an office in the house, that would be amazing," he finished.

He wasn't a picky man. There were at least a dozen listings I could take him to right that moment and he'd probably find one. As we spoke, I started reaching out to a few listing agents to set up tours.

"We can definitely find you something to your liking," I said with a confident smile.

Rob wasn't the only one who had gotten less nervous during this meeting. The idea that I could easily find him a home that suited his needs was such a relief to me. This was going to be a guaranteed sale; I just needed to find exactly the right house.

As our meeting came to an end, I felt a little sad. It was silly, but I liked talking to Rob. I liked that we were able to put each other at ease. Our conversation was professional, yet I felt like I could talk to him about anything. He was receptive, open, warm and kind. He was nothing like I'd expected, but it was easy to see why he'd done so well in life. He had a certain kind of quiet charm that couldn't be replicated. You either had it or you didn't. He had it in spades.

We ended our meeting and walked out of the café together. As we were exiting, a group of boisterous men were entering. They didn't care if they bowled us over; they just rushed into the café like they were the only people in the world. Rob deftly moved me out of their way and kept his hand pressed against my lower back until they were inside the small space.

The warmth of his hand intoxicated me. I suddenly imagined that hand everywhere, setting fire to parts of my body that even I didn't know could be set on fire. Just as quickly as it had happened, though, he dropped his hand and moved about a foot away from me. Rob's awkwardness and nervousness were shining through again. Just for a moment, though, I got a glimpse of what he would be like if he took those glasses off and let me mess up his hair even further.

***

I didn't have much time to dwell on my meeting with Rob. As soon as I got into my car, I got a text from Michael. He'd been looking at our listings online and was really interested in a place in the Valley. I was thrilled to get to show a place there, but I was nervous to be around him again. Unlike Rob, who put me at ease, Michael lit me on fire. I couldn't imagine what might happen when we were secluded up in the Valley with no prying eyes that may stop in and interrupt us. That was exactly what I didn't need, though. Perhaps a cold shower would be a better idea.

Still, I was a professional, and I knew the importance of this sale. It could be my very first, and a high-profile client like this could bring in more high-profile clients. Selling Michael a house had the potential to create a snowball effect that could make me a top agent in the firm. I'd love to see Crystal's face if that happened.

First, though, I had to make it through an entire showing without throwing myself in the arms of a handsome basketball player.