Free Catharine Bramkamp - Real Estate Diva 03 - In Good Faith by Catharine Bramkamp Page B

asked her.
    “Allison,” Mary Beth (from CPS) looked at me with pity in her eyes.  “You are aware the hotel asked us to take only cash. If you ever came to a Board Meeting you’d know that.”
    “I’m on the Board? I’ll have to owe you .” I threatened. My hand hit my phone as I rummaged around for a pen to write an I.O.U. I pulled it out and turned the ringer to vibrate.
    She looked at me. I looked at her and tried not to tug at my skirt because this one was fitting pretty snuggly as well.
    “Oh, promise not to eat anything.” She grumbled.
    I took a breath right before I walked in.  I surveyed the crowd for a friendly face, found none, and slunk to a table. I grabbed a cup of hot coffee on my way. No matter how long I work in this business, there is something very intimidating about the weekly MLS meetings.  I always feel like a theater major stepping into cheerleading camp. This from a former cheerleader.
    I missed the opening announcements. Agents were now grabbing the mobile microphone to announce community holiday fairs, the coat drive, and where we could drop off new un-wrapped toys for Toys for Tots. A new Farmer’s Insurance agent was introduced.  She stood, licked her shiny, glossy lips, and proceeded to waste three minutes describing how she saved this hapless Realtor money with her fabulous insurance services and she, Heather, can do the same for any of us.   
    “I’ve been serving Sonoma County for years,” she cooed into the microphone, and repeated her phone number twice.
    I squinted at her glossy lips. I recognized her. Oh my goodness, it was the Heather.  She actually worked at our office for what, ten minutes. She was one of those bright young things who seems to have great potential the first week on staff, but ends up a bad deal by the second week. It turned out that Heather was not very good finding her way around Rivers Bend. I think she even got lost driving to her own house. As for years in the business, the only years Heather had already racked up was tenure in glee club.
    I wished any and all of Heather’s insurance clients the best of luck. When Heather finally sat down, the group applauded politely but unenthusiastically.
    I nodded to two other Realtors and they nodded back. I glanced at, but did not make eye contact with, the third member of my table.  He was a self -proclaimed member of the Rivers Bend Sign Elimination Committee For the Betterment of Rivers Bend. Rosemary nick-named this group the Sign Nazis because of their draconian, and often illegal, sign removals.  Self appointed, this group pretends they work for our local listing resource and as such they feel justified to take down any For Sale or directional sign that they themselves, deem unsightly. There were not many of us who had not lost a sign or two to this group because the sign wasn’t in the “right” location.  It can get expensive. The Sign Nazis don’t return your signs; they throw them away.  I focused on my coffee and did not look up again.  
    The meeting moved quickly forward; announcements, buyer’s needs, pocket listings, new listings not on tour.
    I raised my hand, and the microphone and its handler made her way over to me. 
    “Hi, Allison Little, New Century Realty.”
    “Allison, is this another house of death?”  A cheerful voice called from the back of the room.
    “REO? Or is it really a DOA?”  Called another.
    “Did you find another dead body?”  That was from Heather, joining in the fun. I was momentarily distracted, as I considered how to take revenge for that comment.               
    “Are you now exclusive to accidents?” Another rude question.
    I opened my mouth, then closed it.
    “ Allison Little, New Century Realty.” I repeated. “I have a new listing, not on tour.”  I glared at the tables daring anyone to interrupt me.  The group finally obliged. “It’s in the Villas.  Priced.” I searched the room for the last agent who spoke. He