Page 17 of Diego

Diego Conti.

Phone number.

Nothing else.

Randall taps the desk with one finger. “Set up the meet tomorrow, bright and early. I would suggest not keeping him waiting.”

I fold the paper once and stand.

“Anything else?”

“No.”

I turn toward the door.

“Blair.”

I look back.

He gives me a thin smile. “Don’t screw this up.”

I leave before I say something that would solve the problem for him by getting me fired today instead of tomorrow.

The office looks exactly the same when I step back onto the floor, which feels odd considering my entire professional future has just been placed on the outcome of one impossible day of showings. It feels like something should have changed.

Leah is already watching me.

So is Carter.

I make it three steps toward my desk before Leah rolls her chair into the aisle.

“What happened?”

I drop into my seat and place the folded paper beside my keyboard. “Diego Conti wants me to show him houses tomorrow.”

Carter blinks. “You?”

“Apparently.”

Leah’s brows go up. “Why?”

“I have no idea.”

Carter looks toward Randall’s office. “He asked for you specifically?”

“That’s what Randall said.”

Leah leans back, clearly trying to make sense of it. “Have you met him before?”

I shake my head.

“He smiled at you,” Carter says.

“Yeah,” I say absently. “He winked at me on the way out.”

Carter makes a quiet sound of understanding.

I point at him. “Do not.”