“You can’t do that,” Mr. Stephenson said. “My offer was accepted before theirs. I’ll sue.”
“John…” his wife cautioned, touching his arm.
“I rather doubt you’ll be doing that, Mr. Stephenson,” the agent said, sneering at the man as if he were a fat maggot.
There was a rap at the front door and two men in business suits entered the house. They flipped open their wallets, displaying badges. “Mr. Stephenson?” Monica immediately pointed to the couple. “You’ll need to come with us to the station for questioning, sir,” one of the detectives said.
Stephenson’s face drained of color. “You’re arresting me?”
“Not at this time. But I’d suggest you have your attorney meet you down at headquarters. There’s a little matter of drug money that needs to be resolved.”
Monica turned her icy gaze, the one she’d used to greet Samantha earlier, on her client. “It seems your assets in Grand Cayman have been frozen due to suspicion of illegal activity,” she said, her lip curling in disdain.
“Oh, John, I knew this would happen,” Mrs. Stephenson said softly.
“Keep quiet,” her husband warned.
A moment later, after Monica had plucked the keys to Henley House from Mr. Stephenson’s fingers, he, his wife and the detectives were gone.
The real estate agent turned to Samantha and smiled. It wasn’t one of those condescending, patronizing smiles she’d given her earlier, it was more like a sparkling, gracious, let’s-do-lunch-and-be-best-friends-now-that-I-know-you-have-big-bucks sort of smile.
“Ms. Rutledge,” she extended her hand, “I’m Monica Sharp, the listing agent for this home. I do hope you’ll forgive me for the unfortunate mix-up earlier.” She shook Samantha’s hand and then held out the house keys, dropping them into Samantha’s open palm. “I understand all the paperwork is already in order, so you’re ready to move right in.” Another million-dollar-smile beamed from her features.
“You mean all the mortgage papers have already been signed?” Samantha asked, closing her fingers around the keys and clutching them hard. “Are they going to send me something telling me how much my monthly payments are and where to send them?”
Monica blinked. “Since you paid cash-in-full for the house and its entire contents, naturally there’s no mortgage,” she said. “Oh,” she tittered a chuckle, “I see…you’re teasing me to get back at me for my momentary display of ignorance earlier.” She laughed. “That’s all right, I deserve it.”
“Yes, you do,” Rosie said. “Your exceedingly rude treatment of Ms. Rutledge was inexcusable.”
Monica blanched and Samantha couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. “That’s okay, Rosie. She didn’t know.”
“No, it is not okay. Believe me, Sam, if it weren’t for those dollar signs she sees when she looks at you now,” Rosie insisted, “she’d be treating you in the same shabby manner. Maybe Ms. Sharp will learn not to be so judgmental when it comes to appearances in the future, hmm?” Rosie directed her question to the agent.
“You’re right. There’s no excuse for my behavior,” Monica agreed with an angelic, heartrending expression. She almost looked like she wanted to cry. The woman could give lessons in groveling. “I do hope you’ll accept my profuse apology and allow me to give you a tour of your new home.”
“That will not be necessary,” Lugal said. “You may go now. I will give Samantha a tour.”
“But you’re not familiar with the property,” Monica objected. “It’s a vast structure with hidden passageways and secret rooms and I—”
“Lugal knows this house like the back of his hand,” Samantha said. “He used to live here.”
Monica’s eyes widened. “Really? Oh…well then…”
“Tah-tah, Ms. Sharp,” Rosie said, making a sweeping gesture toward the front door. “Don’t let the door hit your butt on the way out.”
Nonplussed, Monica gathered her gear, slipped Samantha one of her business cards and left the premises.
Once they were alone, Samantha punched the air, letting out a gleeful whoop.
“It has been more than a hundred years since I walked here,” Lugal said, a sense of wonder in his voice. “It is almost like a step back in time.”
“I can imagine. It was 1859, right?” Samantha asked.
Lugal nodded. “The year Oregon became a state, on Valentine’s Day. James Buchanan was president—he was the fifteenth. There were no light bulbs yet. They did have railroads and there was photography. There were no cars yet. They first appeared in the 1890s but the Model T was not until 1908.”
“Jeez, that photographic memory of yours is crazy!” Samantha said.
“The house seems to have held up well,” Lugal went on as he looked about. “I will inspect it for you and make any needed modifications.” He smiled proudly.
“Oh…Lugal…” Samantha started, uncertain of how to say what she needed, for fear of hurting Lugal’s feelings.
“Yes, little one?”
“Um…maybe we can just leave everything the way it is for now, hmm?”
“After all,” Rosie added, “the house has managed to last all these years without foiling the walls. It might be a good idea to leave it natural, don’t you think?”
Lugal looked dejected. Samantha thought she saw his shoulders slump. “You did not like the improvements I made on your little house,” he said.
“What you did there was amazing, Lugal,” Samantha assured him with a hug. “And I’m sure that after you spend more time online learning about home improvement, you’ll be the envy of the block because of your enviable handyman skills. But for now…” She finished her sentence with a hopeful smile.
Lugal smiled. “It is all right. Do not look so sad, Samantha. You have not trampled on my feelings. Come, I will show you everything about your new house.”
Unable to hold back any longer, Samantha let out a squeal that echoed off the walls of the cavernous foyer. “Sorry, I can’t help it. I’m just so excited!” She wrapped her arms around Lugal and squeezed hard. “Thank you for making my wish come true, Lugal. Thank you.”
“Although I cannot directly take credit for your wish being granted, I can tell you that it makes my heart swell with joy to see you so happy, little one.” He kissed the top of Samantha’s head before leading her and Rosie through the house.
More than an hour later, after exploring almost every nook and cranny of the enormous mansion, the three headed for the kitchen, the final room on the tour. Immense, grand and updated with state-of-the-art appliances, granite counter tops and custom cabinets, it was everything Samantha had ever dreamed of having for her very own.
“Now there’s a kitchen table that looks plenty sturdy,” Rosie said, nodding toward the massive wood structure. “Yup, I’d say that table could withstand a lot of weight. And plenty of activity.” After catching the warning look in Samantha’s eye, Rosie snickered. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
Samantha opened the huge top-of-the-line refrigerator, sucking in a gasp when she spotted a row of champagne bottles in a special wine rack on one of the shelves. “It’s the good stuff!” she said. “French.” She closed the door.
“What the hell are you closing the door for?” Rosie asked “Let’s break out the champagne and celebrate, girl!”
“I can’t just take their champagne,” Samantha scoffed. “That wouldn’t be right.”
Rosie rapped her knuckles on Samantha’s head. “Hello?” she said in a singsong voice. “It’s not their champagne, you ninny, it’s your champagne. Right along with all those rows and rows of bottles of expensive vintage wines downstairs in the fully stocked wine cellar. Apparently you bought everything inside as well as out, lock, stock and barrel. The whole shebang is yours, Sam, bought and paid for.”
“Jesus…” Samantha felt another joyful squeal taking hold, but suppressed it. She was afraid if she started yelling gleeful sounds now she wouldn’t be able to stop. “It’s all so hard to believe.” She
opened the refrigerator again and retrieved a bottle of bubbly. “We’ll sup on fine champagne as I make my second wish. Ever had champagne, Lugal?”
“The name is not familiar. Once I sample it I will know for sure.”
“He has a photographic memory,” Samantha told Rosie. “But it’s selective.” She grinned.
“Charlie’s got a selective memory too. Don’t all men?” Rosie chuckled. “Wait until I tell Charlie all about this. His eyes will bug at the way all of this so neatly fell into place after you made your wish.”
“Just imagine…I beat out a drug lord for this place.” Samantha laughed. “I can’t wait to have you, Charlie and the kids over to dinner so you can dine at my opulent marble-topped dining room table. You know, the one with the three crystal candelabras. The one that’s so long we’ll have to shout from one end to the other just to be heard.”
She giggled as she looked around her, seeing something new with each turn of her head. “Oh my God, I feel like I died and went to heaven. It really is all mine, isn’t it?”
“All yours,” Lugal assured. “I think Abigail would be very pleased to know that you are the owner of this house now, Samantha. She would have liked you very much. I am sure of it.”
“Thank you, that really makes me feel good,” Samantha said, unwrapping the wire on the bottle and twisting the cork. It popped with a satisfying celebratory noise and she poured the champagne into the weighty crystal glasses Rosie found in one of the cupboards.
They sat at the kitchen table and Samantha held her glass aloft. “Okay, Lugal.” She looked over at him and grinned. “I’m ready. Listen, maybe this time you could do something a little flashy, okay?” she suggested.
“Flashy?”
“Yeah, something dramatic, like a fictional genie,” she explained. “To give it more oomph.”
Lugal smiled, tossing her a wink. “I understand.”
“For my second official wish,” Samantha began, “I wish to establish Beyond the Scale, an extremely successful, thriving weight-loss center, staffed with caring, compassionate people who have all struggled with being overweight in the past.”
Lugal rose to his feet, his arms outstretched to the heavens, his palms up in a beckoning motion. “Oh hear me, great gods and goddesses,” he roared, sending a chill up and down Samantha’s spine. She and Rosie exchanged wide-eyed gapes. “I beseech you to grant this worthy wish of the good, kind, fair and beautiful Samantha Rutledge.”
Crossing his arms over his massive chest, he clapped his hands over his arms, blinked and wiggled his nose. “As per your command, your wish has been granted, oh Master,” Lugal said. He completed his convincing act by calling out an extended boing as he gave a resolute nod.
Falling into laughter, Samantha and Rosie clapped as Lugal took a bow.
“Better?” he asked.
“Perfect,” Samantha answered. “So what happens now?”
“I do not know. We shall see,” Lugal said.
“In the meantime, let’s drink this big-buck champagne before it goes flat,” Rosie suggested.
“To love, laughter, good health and happiness,” Samantha said, clinking glasses with Rosie and Lugal. “May we never be without them.” She took a sip, amazed at the soft, velvety bubbles, so unlike the harsh carbonation of the cheaper sparkling wines she was used to. “A girl could definitely get used to this,” she said.
“Tell me about it,” Rosie agreed. “I’m loving this stuff. I’m just damned glad I’m your best friend because, Lord knows, somebody’s got to help you drink up all this pricey wine.” She laughed.
“Champagne…it is most unique,” Lugal noted after sipping. “I have not supped it before. It has some of the same properties as barley ale, yet it is not as bitter in taste.”
“Barley ale?” Rosie asked.
“Beer,” Samantha clarified.
“I would enjoy this with a roast leg of mutton,” Lugal offered. “Or perhaps a grilled goat’s head.”
“Well forget about it because that’s not going to happen,” Samantha said, chuckling through a shudder. “Something tells me you won’t mind the substitution of a nice prime rib or filet mignon instead.”
The doorbell rang. It was a grand, gracious, melodious tune, unlike any doorbell Samantha had ever heard before.
And it was all hers.
“Someone’s at the door,” Samantha said absently.
“Well don’t look at me to slip into a maid’s uniform and answer it,” Rosie teased.
“My first official visitor. Maybe it’s someone from the neighborhood with a plate of fresh-baked brownies,” Samantha said, rising from her chair and heading for the door.
“Yeah,” Rosie called after her. “Or it could be Mr. Stephenson’s drug cartel with a welcome to the neighborhood basket of hallucinogens.” She laughed.
“I’m here about the signage, ma’am,” the man at the door said.
“Signage?”
The man stepped aside and gestured to his truck and the two men standing in front of it holding a huge sign.
Samantha took one look at it and burst into tears.
Chapter Eighteen
“Honey, what is it? What’s wrong?” Rosie asked, scrambling to Samantha’s side.
Lugal was right there, his strong, protective arm wrapped around her. “What happened? Has this man made you cry? I will tear out his liver and feed it to him.”
The poor man at her doorstep looked like he was going to pass out as Lugal glared and snarled.
“No. Look!” was all Samantha was able to manage through her sobs as she pointed to the two men at the truck.
Rosie and Lugal turned to look at the elegant, beautifully crafted sign they held, which read Beyond the Scale.
“It’s my company. Isn’t it beautiful? It worked! My wish was granted!”
“Uh…I’m really glad you like the sign so much, ma’am,” the man at the door said. “All I need is your signature here, accepting delivery, and we’ll install it according to the specs on the order.” He handed a pen to Samantha.
As soon as she finished signing, Samantha noticed a smaller truck pull to the curb in front. And then another. And another…
During the next forty minutes, Samantha had met her new general contractor, the representative of the exercise equipment manufacturer, computer specialists, a team of decorators and a host of others, all there to make Beyond the Scale a reality.
It was a dream team of experts committed to fulfill her every whim.
The last person at her door was Mr. Schmoll, one of the vice presidents from her bank. Handing her a slim portfolio, he introduced himself as the financial administrator for her newly established business and personal accounts. He advised that, as per instructions, he’d taken care of the down payments for all of the professionals involved in completing Beyond the Scale, and would manage the bill paying until all the work was finished to her satisfaction.
Samantha could do little more than blink and gape.
“Your benefactor has sufficiently funded the account for purposes of the establishment and operation of your company,” Mr. Schmoll said. “A second account has been established for all of your personal and household needs, Ms. Rutledge.”
“My benefactor?” Samantha asked, still shell shocked.
“Yes.” He selected a business card from his jacket’s inner pocket and held it out to her. “Inanna of Sumer.”
“Oh my God…”
“Holy shit,” Rosie added. “Isn’t she the one who bottled Lugal up?”
Samantha silently nodded her affirmation.
“Bottled what up?” the banker asked.
Dead silent, Lugal looked as stunned as Samantha felt. When she clasped his arm she felt a tremor shimmer through him, or maybe the trembling sensation emanated from her.
Noticing the card was blank except for the name, Samantha asked, “Is there any contact information?”
“I’m afraid not,” Mr. Schmoll said. “Your benefactor stipula
ted strict confidentiality in regards to the release of any such information.”
“Have you actually talked to her?” Rosie asked. “Inanna, I mean?”
The banker shook his head. “All correspondence, which has been minimal, has been through electronic means.”
“Can you at least tell me if she has a phone number or an email address or something?” Samantha pleaded.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Rutledge…”
After Mr. Schmoll left, Samantha turned to Lugal, smiling as she rubbed her hands up and down his arms. “You know what this means, don’t you? She’s still out there, Lugal. Inanna is still reachable. Once we find her we’ll get her to free you, I know we will.”
“Oh boy, wait until I tell Charlie,” Rosie said excitedly, gathering her purse and car keys. “Now that we know Inanna still exists, he’ll track her down. With all the university’s resources and technology at his fingertips, it’ll be a snap.”
Lugal’s solemn expression telegraphed a distinct lack of enthusiasm. “Of course Inanna still exists. She is a goddess. Immortal. But she is elusive. Charlie will not locate her, Rosie. Even if he does, she will not lower herself to answer the pleas of mere mortals.”
“That’s because she hasn’t encountered these mere mortals yet,” Rosie assured, thumbing herself and Samantha.
“Rosie’s right.” Samantha squeezed Lugal’s arm. “We won’t take no for an answer.”
“Nay, my love.” Lugal drew Samantha close to his chest, smoothing his hand over her back. “You must not risk incensing Inanna. I glimpsed her furious visage briefly before I became a vapor and transferred to the bottle the first time. She is fierce. Powerful enough to smite you with a single breath. I could not bear to live with that memory for all eternity.”
He wrapped one arm around Rosie’s shoulder. “You and Charlie must not put yourselves in harm’s way for me. I must ask for your solemn oath that you and Samantha will refrain from such foolish behavior.”
After a momentary pause, Rosie looked up into his dark gaze and sighed. “Okay, sure, you convinced me. You have my solemn oath, Lugal.” As she spoke she crossed her fingers, holding them behind Lugal’s back and wiggling them for Samantha to see. “Right, Sam?” She winked.
Samantha and Her Genie Page 28