Page 110 of Four Weddings and a Funeral Director
‘Lily, darling,’ Venus purred, darting in like a hummingbird for some air kisses. ‘How’s marrying life treating you?’
‘Couldn’t be better,’ said Lily, dusting down her yellowgingham skirt. She held out a hand, inviting Venus inside the shop. ‘So, how are things with Desmond? Did you talk?’
Venus shrugged. ‘We did a Zoom with the boards. It was all amicably resolved by our lawyers. He’s taken up with a plastics magnate in the interim. The stock prices are soaring. My mother’s delighted. Did I tell you I got a lizard?’
Venus pulled up an image of a fat, dragon-like lizard with a frilled neck on her phone.
‘He’s Australian. His name is Bozo. Doesn’t talk much, and has absolutely no business interests. It’s the perfect partnership.’ Venus glanced around approvingly. ‘The shop is positively glowing. Look at that intention board – it’s fizzing with energy.’
‘I really think I’ve found my place here.’ Lily smiled, glancing over at her treasure map. She’d visited every business in town, and met just about every local (and probably every tourist as well). And best of all, they’d all stopped by to see her and grab a reciprocal stamp. The only stamp that was missing was Mort’s – but she figured the Chamber of Commerce would let it slide when she went to claim her hamper and hopefully successfully plead her case to stay on in town at the conclusion of her lease. If not in her little shop, thensomewhere. Maybe one of the many empty apartments at Whispering Waters, where dying was the third-most popular activity, behind only bingo and arts and crafts.
Perching on one of the acrylic ghost chairs, Venus waved a hand. A bounty of gold clinked and jangled. ‘About that. I have a proposal for you.’
Lily set down a cup of tea in front of Venus. On its saucer she placed the cursed lip balm that she’d decided needed to go back to its original owner. ‘Are we talking a marriage proposal here, because …’
‘Oh, no. Not like that.’ Venus applied some of the lip balm, making Lily’s lip tingle in nervous solidarity. ‘I had a chat with Gracie Nivola, and I’m going to take a page out of her book: asexuality. Well, celibacy in my case, but the outcome is the same.’ She clicked her fingers. ‘A job. I’m talking about a job. A calling that you get paid for. More specifically, an opportunity where you help me wiggle my way out of sticky situations. Not all of them involving toothpaste, but some.’
Lily stirred her teacup.
‘I saw how you brilliantly you wrote the apology notes,’ said Venus. ‘I was in no headspace to do it, and you came through. It was poetry! Magic! I only received a handful of cease-and-desist letters. That’s good,’ she added, for Lily wasn’t sure. ‘The only thing is that it would be a demanding job, and I’d need you on the ground with me. Or in the helicopter. Or the Bentley. Or the golf cart. Depending on the vibes of the day. You’d have to come with me back to LA I know you’ve got all this going on.’ Venus gestured around at the shop. ‘But you said you weren’t sure about putting roots down here …’
Lily’s teacup trembled in her hand. Shehadsaid that, hadn’t she. But things were different now.
‘And soon there’ll be just the lease, and after that, nothing at all. The business, though darling, is new. Your family’s back in La Jolla.’
‘And Italy,’ whispered Lily, who’d just been texting back and forth with Annika about her friend’s new-found passion for Italian culture (i.e. Italian men). ‘And Oregon.’ (Mom was doing a month-long consulting stint up in Portland for a tech client, which she’d taken as an opportunity to ditch Mustard Rick.)
‘Might as well be the moon. And let’s face it: no Coachellaheadliner is going to come out here, am I right? I’m just a toothpaste heiress, but I know a woman with potential when I see one, and you have potential. I can see it in your aura.’
Venus’s opal rings flashed as she waggled her fingers dramatically.
Then she slid a piece of paper – in landscape format – across Lily’s coffee table. ‘Here’s what I’m offering.’
Lily spilt tea in her lap. ‘I think … you’ve misplaced the decimal point.’
Venus frowned. ‘Oh, you’re right.’
She scribbled a new number, moving the decimal point one place to the right.
If Lily hadn’t already spilt her tea, she would’ve done so again. It was an absurd amount of money. So absurd that if Venus hadn’t written out the full amount in words, she would have assumed that the other woman had failed third-grade maths. But Venus seemed completely sincere.
‘I see you’re already packing,’ said Venus, eyeing the pink duffel bag Lily had kicked under her desk when they’d entered the shop. Lily might be a maximalist, but she didn’t abide a mess. ‘How about you come back with me on the helicopter, and I’ll have my people pick up your things later. I’ll even pay out the rest of your lease.’
From the other side of a grille came a sneeze, followed by some muttered swearing.
Venus cocked her head, then pointed towards the grate on the wall that divided the two Eternal Elegances.
Lily froze. How much of this conversation had Mort heard?
‘Either you have ghosts, or an eavesdropper,’ chided Venus. ‘Shall we grab a coffee first? For old times’ sake?’
Lily’s mind was whirling from Venus’s offer and what it represented. Financial security. Prestige. Amazing networkingopportunities. A creative blank cheque to go with the literal blank cheques that Venus liked to throw around.
It was the kind of offer that no one in the right mind would turn down. Not unless they had a very specific reason not to.
Lily grabbed the pink duffel and slung it over her shoulder.
‘A coffee sounds great,’ she said.
