Confession #7: One name. That’s all it took to ruin everything.
My client shivered as if pleased by my answer. Then she crooked her finger, beckoning me forward as she turned away and started out of the mudroom and into a hallway. “Follow me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I murmured quietly, moving in close so she’d be sure to feel me right behind her.
This was my first test. Initial meetings were always tricky. I had to decipher immediately whether a client preferred bold behavior or coy. And the way she responded to me breaching her personal space would be her tell.
When she glanced over her shoulder at me, I made sure to make eye contact, reading her expression and body language. There were zero f**k-off-and-give-me-room vibes, no I-didn’t-say-you-could-do-that arch of the eyebrows. In fact, she s
