Sold On You (Love in Bruges #1)

Chapter 1

Nora

I push away the creeping tendrils of doubt and insecurity, forcing myself to dive headfirst into my morning routine.

Today, there’s no room for doubt or insecurity, absolutely none.

I sit up, turn off the alarm, and head into the bathroom to prepare for the day ahead.

The lukewarm water of the shower works wonders.

I rinse away my lack of sleep and by the time I step out, I feel almost human again.

I tackle my long brown hair with a brush and blow-dryer, waging the same battle I fight every morning.

The result is manageable, which is enough.

As always, I go for a little bit of makeup and a neutral lip gloss. Less is more.

Thank God I already picked out my outfit yesterday.

I’m obsessed with my pantsuit, especially for workdays like today, so the choice was easy.

The pants are a dark cobalt blue and fit perfectly.

I put them on and shamelessly admire my own backside in the mirror.

My curves look great in this kind of suit, and I appear professional.

I am professional. What I’m not is slim, and my fitness has seen better days.

Still, I look good. At least, that’s what I repeat to myself every morning, hoping one day I’ll actually believe it.

Beautiful clothes have always been my armor.

They hide flaws, or at least make me feel like they do, and sometimes they even let me feel.

.. sexy. Every now and then, there’s a flicker of confidence, a moment when I catch myself thinking: Maybe someone will find this body, this version of me, beautiful someday.

I run my hands over the soft fabric along my thighs, pull in my stomach, and experiment with a few flattering poses in the mirror.

After a few turns, I give up. I let my stomach relax and let out a deep sigh.

Who am I kidding? I remind myself that Prince Charming probably doesn’t even exist for women like me.

My limited experiences with men certainly haven’t been promising.

Still... I wouldn’t say no to a little fun.

It’s been far too long since I’ve had someone in my bed.

I see myself sighing in the mirror. I’m not even like that, and I’m not supposed to be thinking about sex!

Not now! I shake off the distracting thoughts and put on the cream-colored satin blouse that pairs perfectly with these pants.

I take the blazer with me just in case. It might get a lot cooler today than it was yesterday.

Just in time, I remember to grab an extra shirt.

A flash of horror crosses my mind: attending the most important meeting of my career, blouse ruined by a streak of red spaghetti sauce from lunch with Anna.

So much for being sexy and professional.

Heels? Maybe today is the day to go for it.

Hopefully my feet agree. I look at myself in the mirror from head to toe and decide that I look good. Good enough, that is.

I head downstairs and pour myself a strong coffee.

I haven’t lived here very long, and sometimes I still can’t quite believe that all of this—albeit on credit—is mine.

But every brick, every corner of this townhouse and my little real estate office fills me with pride.

I worked hard, so very hard, saved every penny, and even tackled a big part of the renovations myself.

The results speak for themselves. Starting my own business was a leap into the unknown, but I already know I’d never want to or be able to give this up.

My house-slash-office is everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

A smile spontaneously appears on my face.

I genuinely enjoy my little pile of bricks.

When I was studying interior architecture, I never imagined I’d end up becoming a real estate agent, but I’m thrilled with the choices I made.

During my previous job at a trendy architecture firm, I had great colleagues and a nice salary, but the work itself was so boring.

I couldn’t express my own creativity and was more focused on billing and calculating projects than on creating a vision for a home.

Houses have always fascinated me. Each with its own story and style.

What was once a cozy family home for five might soon become a residence for two dentists with a practice and a rental apartment.

That process, matching the right house to the right person, selling a vision, is exactly what I love to do.

I could have started as a freelance interior architect, but I followed my instincts and completed training to become a real estate agent.

Deep down, I know it was the right choice, but it hasn’t been easy so far.

Loans are expensive, and potential buyers are postponing their purchases.

Being new in this world, I have to fight for every opportunity.

I face off against seasoned agencies and cunning agents who wouldn’t hesitate to reach out to your children about selling your property, long before you’re dead and buried.

Sorry, but that’s just not how I operate.

I, Eleonora—Nora to my friends—twenty-seven years old, believe it can be done differently.

Moral compass? Check! I’ve already had some successes, but they were rather modest. I really have to watch my finances because I can’t pay myself a full salary yet.

Every beginning is difficult—I knew and know this—but I hope I won’t have to rely on my savings for too long.

Today, everything could change. Today, everything must change.

As I stare out of the window, I go over my schedule in my head.

Two property viewings in the morning—potential listings I hope to secure—and then lunch with Anna.

It’s always a joy to see her. She’s my best friend, my sounding board, and my confidante for years now.

We met at college, and since then I honestly couldn’t imagine life without her.

Nobody knows me better than Anna does. After lunch, the source of my nerves and greatest pride awaits: the potential sale of a million-euro villa.

Okay, I admit, “sale” might be jumping the gun, but as of Friday, I’ve got a stunning villa in my portfolio, asking price: four million euros, and who knows, I might sell it this afternoon.

Opportunities like this are rare for a newbie like me.

I’d love to think I earned this opportunity, but honestly, it was mainly being in the right place at the right time and having a ton of luck.

My cousin, Dennis, threw a party last Friday, just a few days ago, for his thirty-fifth birthday.

Important detail: his extensive, fun, and particularly well-off circle of doctor friends was also there.

Although it was Dennis’s birthday, I got the gift of a lifetime.

His colleague, Ibrahim, was recently offered a new job abroad as head of the cardiology department at a prestigious London hospital.

He’s eager to take this opportunity, but it also means selling his posh villa in Bruges.

Living and working in London is apparently expensive.

Plus, he was already spending more time at the hospital than in his own bed.

Downsizing seemed like the smarter move anyway.

I can’t blame him for that. He told Dennis all this at the party, and Dennis took the opportunity to recommend me, his favorite cousin, of course.

When I arrived, he had just convinced his colleague that I was the best real estate agent in town to do business with.

Et voilà, the rest is history. Since Ibrahim didn’t have much time to waste, our deal was sealed that very evening.

I don’t think he realized or realizes how little experience I still have, let alone with properties in this price range.

This only motivates me even more to prove what I’m capable of.

If I can sell this villa, I’ll have a solid reference under my belt, and my competitor colleagues will have to respect me.

My self-confidence could thrive on this for a year, not to mention how many months I could live off such a sale financially.

Finally having financial security would be a welcome change.

I’m eternally grateful to Dennis. He knows what this could mean for me.

I drink the last sip of my coffee, place the empty mug on the counter, grab my laptop bag, and head downstairs to my office space.

I search my desk for the right documents I’ll need today and put them in my bag.

I straighten the chairs in the seating area, water the plants, and turn on the LED lights in the display window.

I check my calendar for the thousandth time to see what I already know.

At 3 p.m., my once-in-a-lifetime appointment with Bertrand, the agent of the potential buyer.

He mentioned that his client is very interested in the villa and has been looking for a new property in the suburbs of Bruges for a while.

I’ve never worked with Bertrand before, but he came across as friendly and enthusiastic in his emails.

He couldn’t say for sure whether his client would be able to join us on such short notice, but he’d try to arrange it.

If the buyer can’t make it, the decision to make an offer or not will likely be based on Bertrand’s judgment.

It must be wonderful as an agent to have so much trust from your client.

A villa like this doesn’t come along every day.

It will indeed come down to those quick to decide.

I close the door behind me, lock up, and hope the stars align today.