Glossy Lips

by Barbara Silkstone

  Pouring a blob of ketchup on her scrambled eggs, Lizzy was slow to respond, finally introducing me as her new client. “I told you I might list a unit at the Sandy Shores. This is the owner to be, Olive Peroni.”

  “Great! A new listing.” Jaimie said, shaking my hand. “I’m Jaimie Toast and I’ll have your condo sold in no time!” She grabbed a slice of Lizzy’s bread and then raised her hand and snapped her fingers. “Garçon!” she yelled at the waitress. The woman padded over, coffee pot in hand.

  “Black coffee and an English muffin. Extra butter and jam.” Jaimie gave her a big smile. “Pronto! Lazy Mazie!”

  Lizzy shook her head looking slightly amused but mostly irritated. “You know the waitress’ name is Maryanne. Please don’t call her lazy. Your rhyming names are offensive.”

  Jaimie swallowed back a mouthful of toast. “She knows I’m kidding. Everyone knows I’m a joker. When can I see the condo? I might have a buyer by tomorrow.”

  She spoke in rapid fire; the sound was like glass marbles hitting a tile floor. Ping! Ping! Ping!

  “Olive isn’t listing just yet. She has inheritance issues to work out,” Lizzy said. It was a good choice of words as legal delays would block Jaimie from hassling me. I imagined a picture of Jaimie on Wikipedia under the word badger.

  Somewhere a cell phone played the first few bars of the “Pink Panther Theme.” Lizzy groped in her purse and retrieved a turquoise gadget. “Yes Dave. Fine. I spent the night with a girlfriend. Tonight is your early night, I remember. See you at the cottage at seven?” She glanced at me. I nodded, confirming we should be done cleaning the graffiti by then.

  She pocketed her phone and went back to eating. The red ketchup on the yellow eggs had my stomach doing handstands; the colors were too vivid after a night of little sleep. My palms grew sweaty when I thought of the horrific scribbling on the mirror.

  I struggled with the uneasy feeling I had about Lizzy’s safety. Her cottage might be a cute place but it definitely wasn’t secure, isolated in the saw palmetto and slash pines. It wasn’t my business to ask, especially not in front of Jaimie, but I hoped this Dave guy would spend the night with Lizzy.

  “Where’s your car?” Jaimie asked, slathering butter on her newly delivered English muffin.

  Lizzy tried to dodge the question by stuffing a piece of toast in her mouth. But Jaimie waited. The blonde possessed the instincts of a professional busybody. It was a symptom of neediness. It was kind of Lizzy to tolerate the loudmouth, but it must be draining.

  “I’m picking my car up from Sterling’s house.”

  “You were at Sterling’s? Does Dave the Slave know?” Jaimie’s tone was incredulous. “What’s going on? Tell me! No never mind. I’ll just come with you and find out.”

  Lizzy shook her head. “Somebody should be at the office. Olive is taking me to Barracuda Manor.”

  “It’s early. I’ll have the calls forwarded to my cell,” Jaimie persisted. “You know how I love poking that old bear!” Her laugh was infectious, it triggered Lizzy to chuckle, and despite not knowing why, I laughed too.

  “Hang on a minute. Let me grab a listing form from my car, just in case.” Jaimie sashayed over to a red BMW convertible, took out a file folder and headed back to join us. I have a fierce dislike for pushy salespeople. Jaimie Toast was pushy. Funny, but pushy.

  “She wants to impress you with her car. Don’t be. It is part of a divorce settlement Sterling is working on for her. Jaimie is married to one of the heirs to the Toast Cereal fortune.”

  Chapter 13

  Jaimie squeezed herself in the back seat of my car, and Lizzy rode shotgun. We were off to meet the bear in his den. Since my new friend had not mentioned the mirror markings to her brash agent, I thought it best to keep silent.

  Dropping snarky remarks like a slot machine paying off, Jaimie shared what I already knew; that Sterling was representing her in her divorce. “We have to be careful with the timing. Chip is about to come into a juicy inheritance from his grandmother. I probably wouldn’t have received anything in the real world, but Sterling is wicked enough to siphon off a few gallons of Chip’s legacy. He is a genius at applying just the right amount of pressure.”

  At Lizzy’s direction, I turned onto a brick-paved street, feeling the jolt and jiggle of the stones bite into my tires. I turned onto a driveway passing Lizzy’s car parked to one side of the crushed shell and sand path. Cautiously, I pulled closer to the entrance of Barracuda Manor. The style was Mediterranean, pink stucco, two-story with a floral garden on the right that extended back towards a small caretaker’s cottage in a similar style of architecture.

  Lizzy rang the bell while Jaimie peeked into the stained-glass panel along the right side of the door. “Here comes Fatty Addy,” she said.

  Lizzy turned to me, “Take care, for Jaimie’s nicknames have a way of sneaking into your vocabulary. I messed up a couple of times. Sterling’s assistant, Newton Nott, is a short guy. Behind his back, Jaimie always calls him Pea-Nott or Peanut. Twice I accidentally called him that to his face. I wanted to die from embarrassment.”

  “He knows he’s short,” Jaimie said, just as someone yanked the door open.

  The housekeeper gave Lizzy a quick smile and then seeing Jaimie, she glared. Lizzy introduced me to Addy. Though rather tall, the housekeeper was definitely not overweight. I guessed if Jaimie’s sharp tongue couldn’t find a rhyming flaw in a person, she would invent one.

  Addy possessed a soft-spoken southern accent, rich chestnut hair held back in a high-riding ponytail, and light brown eyes. I guessed her to be in her early forties. She wore a uniform of sorts: a rose-colored blouse with white piping around the collar and a matching skirt. She was carrying a large potted plant. “Excuse the mess. I was just moving this tree. It needs more sun.”

  She jerked her head toward a hall behind her. “Lizzy, he’s waiting for you in the library. He was expecting you to come alone.” Addy lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. “He’s not been well at all and feeling ill puts him in a foul mood.” Once again she glared at Jaimie. “Don’t you dare repeat that!”

  “Thanks, Addy. He’s always in a bad mood.” Lizzy led our little parade down a cherry wood paneled hall, over an oriental runner with a satiny sheen, and into what had to be the library. So far the place might have been a home in New England, there was nothing Florida about the design or furnishings. I felt like I had stepped into a British whodunit—The Case of the Lip Glossed Lawyer.

  Then we stood face to face with Sterling Kelly, villainous divorce attorney.

  Aside from being a bit older, Sterling Kelly fit the image I had conjured. He used his height, which was well over six feet, to intimidate. His eyes were almost colorless while his thin comb-over went from front to back exposing what must have once been a widow’s peak. He carried an aura of anger about him as if he was doing battle with life. Why had a pretty, personable lady like Liz married this heinous character? I didn’t think I could ever be that naïve, but then again, Whining Willie popped into my head. We all make mistakes, some worse than others.

  Sterling sneered as Lizzy approached him. “You could use a touch of lipstick, my dear,” he said in a snake-like hiss.

  “Both of your latest stunts were beneath even you! Very petty,” Lizzy said. “The cops could have roughed me up!”

  “P-l-e-a-s-e...” he said, dragging out the word. “In our sweet little town?”

  Jaimie turned her head from one to the other trying to access what she had missed. Then she scanned the room as if looking for someone or something.

  “This constant give and take is tiring. You said you would take care of transferring the title to me when you gave me the Jag, years ago!” Lizzy held her elbows wide from her body and thrust her chest out. “I should have followed up, my mistake to ever believe you.”

  I stood behind her ready to use the moves I had learned in my anti-mugger lessons. I had never tried them outside of class but based on what this batty lawyer did i
n the last few hours, he could definitely harm my friend in a fit of temper.

  “Hear me Sterling, I won’t put up with your games anymore,” Lizzy said. “I’ve been waiting long enough for our divorce, but right now all I want is my car!” Lizzy stuck out her hand. He dropped the keys in her palm and she closed her fist around them.

  “I hope Peanut—I mean Newton—gassed up my car. It’s the least he could do!” She clicked the keys under his nose. “And just so you know, I am having the locks changed on my cottage and security cameras installed. You try breaking in again and you will find yourself on YouTube.”

  A guffaw burst from my mouth and hung in the air, collecting evil looks from Sterling Kelly, esquire.

  “How could you let my finches fly off? You had to know they would fall prey to hawks and owls. That was cruel.” Lizzy shook her head. “And scribbling obscenities on my mirror in lip gloss? Shame on you!” She pointed at me. “This is my friend, Olive. She’s a psychologist from New York and she thinks you’re nuts.”

  I snuck a peek at Jaimie who looked as if she would pop with excitement from the raw emotions percolating in the room.

  Why did Lizzy say that? She was stretching my small casual remark into a diagnosis. Not only did she throw me under the bus, but she had also applied her foot to the gas pedal. I knew she was in an emotional state, but geez, I just met the man!

  Sterling’s reptilian eyes knifed into me. “Crazy, am I?” he said. “You spread rumors like that I’ll sue you for every penny you will ever earn! How dare you try to analyze me when you are most likely not even licensed in Florida?” He waved his paranoia like a banner.

  “We have your fingerprints from the mirror!” I bluffed, surprising myself with my snappy response when deep inside I was a tad bit shaky and fibbing was not my style. This was a man hovering on the edge and about to go over. Power has that effect on some people, and he evidently fancied himself a formidable man.

  “I don’t understand what you all are yammering about, but how about we have a drink and talk this through?” Jaimie said.

  I checked my watch. It was barely ten in the morning. I was now certain of her problem.

  The Loud Mouth of the South walked to a book-lined wall, pushed a button and waited as the 3D illusion of books scrolled up revealing a bar, glasses and a selection of liquors. A small refrigerator stood at shoulder height. Either Jaimie had a nose for booze or she was a regular at Sterling Kelly’s place. I filed that information away finding it a curiosity.

  Addy peeked from the hall. She wrinkled her face in distaste.

  “Jaimie, it’s not even pre-lunch. It’s time you made yourself useful at the office,” Lizzy said, dangling the car keys. “Let’s go!”

  “Fine!” Jaimie pouted as she closed down the bar. She locked eyes with Sterling, and then trounced out of the room, elbowing Addy on her way.

  “I’d apologize, Liz,” Sterling said. “But admit it was funny. Did the cops search you? I hope it was a humiliating experience. Give my regards to Dave.” He dropped back into his chair and Addy ran to his side.

  It didn’t take a psychologist to understand that Sterling suffered from a tinge of the green-eyed monster. It bothered him that Lizzy had a man in her life. I wondered if he wanted Dave to come at him and was baiting him by tormenting her.

  Chapter 14

  Lizzy showed up at the condo after dropping Jaimie off at the Blue Bird to pick up her BMW. “Sorry about exposing you to my ace sales agent. Her rudeness causes me no end of problems. I would love to fire her but I know it would send her into a downward spiral. She doesn’t need to work. It just gives her something to do.”

  We chatted as we walked WonderDog along the doggy path outside the Sandy Shores Towers. “I know I appear to be a sucker, but I’m really not. Jaimie’s mother, Ruth Porter, was a friend of my mother. She helped keep Mom’s spirits up during her last months on earth. I owe Mrs. Porter a kindness and so I watch out for Jaimie.”

  “Drinking can be a way of controlling others,” I said, trying to be careful not to step on hidden toes or slip under any more buses.

  “You are the therapist. Jaimie can stop the drinking when she wants. She does manipulate me with her binges. I try not to laugh when she insults people, but her nicknames are often hysterical. Laughter only encourages her, but sometimes I can’t help myself.”

  I said nothing but secretly agreed. Jaimie Toast was an amusing witch.

  “Let’s take your car,” Lizzy said. “Mine is making a weird thumping noise, and it smells sickly sweet. Sterling probably had Peanut put sugar in the gas tank. Last month I brought it in to the Jaguar dealership and they laughed me out the door. I was certain he had someone put acid in the air conditioner.”

  I did a double take. ‘Why would anyone, even Sterling Kelly, put acid in your car’s air conditioner?

  She winced. “I got in the car, kicked the air up to high, and my face burned like red ants were attacking me! I was afraid I was going to be scarred. I didn’t know whether to call nine-one-one or the mechanic.”

  There was a punch line coming. I waited.

  “The service manager at the dealership drove around the block with me to see what I was complaining about. He couldn’t feel anything while my face was flaming. I was certain acid was blowing from the air conditioner vents and that Sterling was behind yet another cruel trick.”

  “What was it?” I asked, clicking the fob and opening my car.

  Lizzy cut me a sheepish look. “I had taken a vitamin B on an empty stomach. I was having a niacin flash. When I remembered what I had done with the pill, I blurted it out. The mechanic spread the word, and the joke was on me. I cringe when I think back to their laughing faces as I pulled away from the service bay.”

  She giggled. “Next time I bring my car to the dealership, I want to be certain there really is something wrong with it, and not a defect in my thinking.”

  WonderDog sat erect in the back seat of my Prius, a belt around his scrawny belly. He leaned his wolf-like head out the window savoring the breeze. I drove at a steady 35 miles per hour up the boulevard.

  “Make a U-turn here!” Lizzy said. I ignored the no U-turn sign and spun the car around. “The ice cream shop is back in the next block.”

  Despite the dark cloud of craziness that followed Lizzy, I liked working in tandem with her. We seemed to have a similar knack for ignoring the pitfalls and seeing only the adventure. The for-rent shop had great exposure, and with a fancy sign, we would have ladies flocking to buy Nonna’s cold cream.

  The owner had hidden a key under a rock near the front door. The stone looked like a theme park prop. Lizzy lifted it, flipped it over, and removed the piece of metal from the magnetic holder. If the secret of all the keys hidden in fake rocks ever got out, a burglar could live like a king in Starfish Cove.

  The door lock fought the gritty key but eventually gave way. Lizzy and I stepped onto a wood plank floor that sounded solid under foot. The air in the store held a hint of dairy products gone rancid. Sunlight beamed through the old-fashioned display windows casting a cheery glow. Behind the antiqued wooden counters were rows of glass display shelves; they were cobwebby but would clean up nicely. I ran my hand over them, imagining jars of cold cream and bottles of body lotion. Lizzy was right; this little shop had been waiting for me. I had found a home for Nonna’s beauty products.

  WonderDog wandered behind the counter sniffing happy hound sniffs. He was in canine heaven with the mix of aromas. He pranced to the center of the room, dropped his butt and barked his approval.

  Sharing my grandmother’s impulsiveness, I said, “I’ll take it!” The words jumped from my lips and would change the course of my life.

  Lizzy clapped her hands. “I knew it!”

  “This is perfect. Your instincts were right.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I considered the commitment I was about to make. “There’s only one thing; I can’t do this alone. I need someone who knows the locals and who can share my ent
husiasm for building a business. But that person must be a non-smoker.”

  My semi-question hung in the sour-milk air.

  Lizzy raised one eyebrow. I raised two.

  “Are you asking me to work for you?” she said. “I have my real estate company. So far it’s not winning any sales awards, but given time it might—I like being my own boss.”

  “I’m asking you if you want to be my business partner. Although we only just met, I have a good feeling about sharing the business with you—limited at first.” I thought about it a second longer. “You can be the junior partner. I will be the boss of us and the guardian of the recipes.”

  “Are you sure? I have little money to invest, but I believe in your Nonna’s miracle cold cream. And we both like making people happy. The leather-skinned ladies will flock to our shop.” She stepped around the counter and gave me a hug. “Need I remind you I come with baggage? You’ve met him. I can’t promise he will stay out of our way.”

  “I have yet to fill you in on my baggage.” An image of Myron Meyers superimposed over Whining Willie slipped into my mind. I pushed them out. “But not today. Let’s savor this moment. All we need is a sense of humor and the ability to roll with whatever comes our way. A giggle now and then will carry us over the rough patches.”

  Lizzy licked her bottom lip, the lizard tongue seeking a cigarette. “Are you sure? Because once I put my heart into it and give up smoking…I promise I can stop any time I want. I-”

  Putting on a serious face amid all my happy feelings, I interrupted her. “I just have one question for you.”

  Her face froze in a perfect uh-oh look waiting to hear the hammer fall. She had already promised to stop smoking; what more would I require?

  “How do you stop a fish from smelling?” I asked.

  At first stunned, she burst into a grin. “You cut off his nose!”