by Hope Lyda
“Great idea. Could we? We’ll ask them to bring donations instead of Pez dispensers.” I give Angelica a cheesy smile.
“We could do something like that. It just wouldn’t be anonymous.” Yvette nods and starts to click away at the keyboard.
“Mari, I almost forgot. I brought my printout from the original site. It has the proof you wanted that Rae did bet on your love life.” Angelica digs in her dark brown leather bag.
“How humiliating,” I say.
Zane looks up from his HTML code and speaks his first words of the day. “Why do you want that?”
“I need a little leverage to get my old job back, if you know what I mean. Though I’m hoping that my fund-raiser idea will be the real selling point.”
“If not, you have a lot more than her online gambling,” Yvette says as she prints a few pages. “Rae did more than bet on your love life.”
“What do you mean?” I skim the pages and try to make sense of it. There is a listing of images…prints. My eyes catch on a Chagall. “I love this print. We used to have it at…” It is all coming together. “You mean she…”
“She sold the art online from your site. If anyone else had figured this out, they would have suspected that you were stealing from Golden Horizons, not her.”
“Do you really want to work for this woman again, Mari?” Sadie asks a very good question.
“I’d prefer it if she moved on, but I know Golden Horizons is where I need to be. I consider her an inconvenience.”
Caitlin holds up the winning invitation design. “Inconvenient…like not having a location yet for our event.”
Countdown: Day Eight
Monday
And to think that I was about to make your travel arrangements to Mexico, kid.” Lionel points to my employee file on his desk.
“I know. I’m so sorry. You’ve been so great to me…giving me this job when I never even interviewed with you.” And you carried my limp body to the massage room.
“Well, my mother has great instincts about people.” His smile is kind. “I like to think that I had something to do with the choice too. I saw your potential. The fact that your potential is going to be used to help the elderly again…how can I complain about that? It wouldn’t be a very good community service statement, now would it?”
“So you like to do your part?”
He peers at me over arty reading glasses.
“Can I interest you in joining me to help the elderly?”
“What do you have in mind? I’m already giving them back their top person.”
“As kind as that is, I won’t have a job unless I can pull off a very important event.” I start my spiel about my amazing inheritance and the fund-raiser idea. When I start to see his eyes wander to the golf course just yards away from his office window, I redirect my information as to how he can help me. “Now I just need a spectacular location that could attract the affluent, big-hearted people I know Tucson has. The kind who would lay down decent amounts of money for original designer dresses, hats, shoes, and…” I pause, recalling Lionel’s outfit the night of Sadie’s gala, “ascots. Plenty of those too. Did I mention these are original designs? This level of the auction could attract a lot of publicity.”
Lionel’s fingers go to his collar and then to his heart. He taps a few beats before standing up to look out the window. “How many people?”
“Well, I’m praying for one hundred people who are in the buying mode. We could draw a much bigger crowd except that our promotion is, regrettably, short notice. With Majestic Vista’s membership list, I imagine we could get at least fifty or a hundred more.”
I notice him considering what he might look like walking the runway at the end as two hundred people applaud his humanitarian efforts.
“And there will be worldwide exposure. We are allowing international online bids. Just think of the promotion you…Majestic Vista…will get from this. I could add a link to your site.” I’m getting to him. He now taps his toe.
“How short is short notice?”
“I need the space this Saturday. I know how…” I’m about to apologize before he interrupts.
“The space we have, but I happen to know that our chef is gone. He’s teaching a holiday cooking class in Phoenix this weekend. This is why the ballroom is available.”
“What if I told you Jace Burch was going to be the chef of honor? Could Majestic’s sous-chef and waitstaff be utilized?” This piques his attention. “Donated, I mean. We would need all of this donated. You’d receive very generous credit, of course.”
“Jace, you say? Is he signed on?”
What is this, the pro football draft? “My team is this close to signing him.” I pinch my fingers together to show how close Jace is to donating his time and stretch the truth.
“Deal,” he says, reaching out a tanned hand to shake my pale one. I knock over his gold desk clock in the process.
“Thank you so much, Lionel. For everything. I hope that my leaving doesn’t leave you in a bind.” Why do I bring up the negative part of this meeting when the man just agreed to donate more than a thousand dollars’ worth of services?
“We’ll manage, but we’ll miss you. You started our Scrabble tournament and the very popular Yoga to the Oldies class. Do tell me you will come back for the staff bingo tournament. You’re our only caller.”
“I’d love to come back. Who knows, if my meeting tomorrow with my future boss doesn’t go well, I might ask you to forget that this quitting thing ever happened.”
“Can I ask why you left Golden Horizons? I understand the attraction of this place, but your heart is clearly there.”
“Sometimes you have to detour through your fantasy to get to your reality.”
This makes him laugh. “I have never had my resort described as a drive-through, but I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Oh, that reminds me. Can I post this in the employee lounge?” I hold up a handwritten “car for sale…like new” sign.
“No! Not that too?”
“It goes with the fantasy.” I shrug.
“Of course,” he says with a slight bow of his head. “You may post the sign.” Lionel starts to close my folder but notices something inside. “Oh, I almost forgot. Your test subject sent you a thank-you note.”
“Wendy? Are you sure it is a thank-you?”
“She also sent me a very complimentary letter about your professionalism. In fact, it was her satisfaction that guaranteed your ticket to Mexico.”
“I’ll get to your resort someday, Lionel. I will just enjoy it as a guest.”
“Well, let me know when you do, and I’ll be sure you are taken care of. Thanks, Chanel…Mari…for your work here. I wish you well.”
Lionel pushes the tiny reading glasses back to the bridge of his nose and begins to read his schedule for the day. I exit quietly and find a secluded place beside an indoor pond to read Wendy’s note. It starts out very proper and professional, but eventually she sounds like the person I got to know by the end of our shared time in the mud room.
Dear Mari,
You went above and beyond the call of Majestic Vista service during my visit last week. Not only were you courteous and professional, but you were also incredibly kind and understanding.
On a more personal note, you reminded me to return to the piece of my life that has been missing…my relationship with my dad. You helped me see that my guilt from the past was keeping me from a future with him. I wish, for my dad’s sake, that you were still at Golden Horizons. But for my sake, I am glad you were at Majestic Vista to save the day.
If you ever need a favor from a person some consider a local celebrity, call me. God bless ya, Wendy Skies…a.k.a. Ingrid.
Although it was hard to see a bigger purpose while picking mud flakes off of this woman’s back, it now is clear that she needed a private shoulder to lean on…just as I will need a very public face to bank on.
Countdown: Day Seven
Tuesday
I have good news,” I say to my cohorts, who are all piled into my car for one last luxury joyride. I asked them to join me for a planning meeting at a surprise location.
“You are unemployed again?” Angelica asks without sarcasm.
Hmm. “Well, yes. Yes, I am. But that’s not the best part. I have secured three important pieces of our invitation.”
“What?”
“Who? Or where?”
“Wendy Skies agreed to be the host for the show and for the auction.”
“How on earth did you get Wendy Skies?” squeaked Caitlin. She is overjoyed.
Angelica looks at me suspiciously. “I thought you didn’t like her.”
“I got to know her and she’s really quite nice. And…” I draw out this last part for effect, “she sort of owes me a favor.” I pretend to turn a key and lock my lips.
“What else should we add to the invitation?” Angelica has her BlackBerry out and ready.
“Majestic Vista’s ballroom is ours for Saturday night. Free of charge.”
“Perfect!” cries Sadie.
“Okay, you quit your job and they give you a perk like that? Are you more valuable to them gone or something?” Angelica tries to figure out the angle.
“In a manner of speaking. I sort of promised Lionel that I’d bring in a famous chef.” My arm reaches across Sadie in the passenger’s seat; I point to the burgundy awning as I pull up to the curb.
“Jace agreed to cook for this?” Sadie’e eyebrows rise with surprise when she sees where we are.
“Not yet,” I smile as the others get the picture. We are here to turn on the charm and secure our chef.
“Welcome to Lily’s,” Pierce greets us and then gives a thumbs-up when he sees that it is me driving this nice vehicle.
I hand him the keys. “I’m sort of borrowing it from a future owner, so take good care of it for me. Is Jace here? I have a little business proposition for him.”
Pierce looks at his sports watch; I notice it has Zane’s company logo on it. “Jace will be making his rounds with the guests very soon, if that is helpful information. Have a nice dinner, ladies.”
When Jace sees us, he first takes in that we are a group of nicely dressed women and bows. But within seconds he notices me and comes over to greet us. We are immediately whisked away to a beautiful table in a prime location and served the first course within minutes.
“Carson always requests this very table,” Sadie says, nodding in approval.
“Things are still going well for you two?” Angelica inquires.
“Yes. Very well. I’m taking things one day at a time so I don’t get ahead of myself.”
“Or hurt,” offers Caitlin.
We all nod knowingly.
Sadie fidgets a little in her seat. “Now, about the event. Carson said he wanted to talk with you about getting involved somehow. I don’t know if he wants to be a sponsor or what. I decided to step out of the way for this so he can talk to you directly. I don’t want him to feel obligated because of me.”
I grab a roll and lace it with honey. “If the boy’s sense of obligation leads to a donation, bring it on.”
“Do we even know what Carson does? Other than stare at Sadie and the stars?” Angelica brings up a mystery.
“I read people pretty well. My guess is that he is a broker,” I say, reaching for another roll.
Angelica takes it from me and begins to eat. “I guess real estate.”
Caitlin bobs her head to her right and then left shoulder a few times to keep pace with her thoughts. “Carson strikes me as an investor for himself. I think he has lots of money that just keeps breeding money.”
Sadie nods at each of our guesses. “Are you ready for this? He is all three and then some. Carson works for his dad, who owns Oasis Jewelry.”
We all know this means classy, high-level, high-fashion jewelry. But apparently Angelica know it means something else as well. “As in…he is the heir to this fortune. You do realize his dad owns a lot more than just that chain of stores?”
Sadie gives her a “now why did you bring that up” look.
“He has to be wealthy to keep this group in balance. I decide to go back to poverty level…Sadie decides to go the way of American royalty.” I use my hands as scales to show how this levels us out.
Sadie gives a half-sigh, half-laugh. “Just give him a call. Please. Here is his card.”
Even Carson’s business card is edged in gold.
“How are my most beautiful guests?” As Jace turns on his charm, I prepare to make my move.
“Jace, the meal has been spectacular. You really are a genius. No wonder Kevin Milano asked if you were going to be my chef for the biggest fashion event of the year. I told him that this would be too short notice for someone of your fame.” I raise my glass high before taking a sip so that Jace’s line of sight would follow. Just above us is the framed Kevin Milano photo of Jace and me.
The bait is taken. Jace pulls up a chair and places his darling chin in his hand. “And which event is Milano speaking of?”
My mind is racing. I realize I have not thought of a name for it. “The…the Hip to Be Square fashion show. It’s a benefit for the Golden Horizons Retirement Center. Didn’t you mention once that you are considering having your mom live there?”
“I like that. It’s playful.” Jace scratches his stubble.
“The only problem is…it is this Saturday at Majestic Vista. I know how you like to prepare and perfect your cuisine far in advance. Too bad…” I stare at the photo one more time.
“I’m in. Yes, I’m in. I’ll have my sous-chef cover that night.”
We can all see that this decision worries him a bit.
Sadie adds her professional tone to my efforts. “That’s a fine idea. Besides, anybody who is anyone will be at the fashion show. Your usual dining clientele will all expect to see you there donating right alongside them.”
We can see that Jace’s mind is already sifting through menu possibilities as he rushes back to the kitchen, hands flailing as if adding seasonings to the imagined main course.
“Is Kevin going to cover the event?” Caitlin asks.
“How could he not? The Majestic, Wendy Skies, and now Jace. Like Sadie said, it’s where anybody who is anyone will be.”
“I never thought I would say this…and mean it…but you are a better networker than I am. Cheers.” Angelica toasts me with her diet soda.
I raise my glass but hold up my other hand in protest. “You guys, this is not about me networking. I’m just gathering up all the bizarre pieces God gave me over this past, crazy year.”
“Here’s to trusting God to put together the bizarre puzzle of our lives,” says Angelica without any hesitation.
“Amen!” we all say.
Countdown: Day Six
Wednesday
I think you’ll find that the evidence points directly to you, Rae. All we would have to do is access security tapes from last year to see which paintings have gone missing. You might be the star of a few of those tapes. Ever think of that?”
Rae does not offer me candy, a seat, or a response.
I hug my arms around myself to keep warm in her icebox of an office. “Look, I’m not here to ruin your life. I’m here to get mine back.”
Her eyes show that she is considering this as a possibility, weighing whether I am being truthful. “There is no funding for your position. I explained this.”
“I will exchange this portfolio of evidence for the chance to hold an end-of-year fund-raiser on Saturday and to earn enough to cover my position until Golden Horizons gets back up to financial speed. If the fashion show brings in enough to fund me, Sonya, and the recreational program for two years, you will make sure that I am hired back and that my record is cleared. I can only imagine what terrible lies you have written in my file or submitted to the state.”
“Three years. Funding for three years.”
I wave the paperwork in front of he
r. “Do the right thing, Rae.”
“I could say I was selling old pieces to buy new ones…to offer a variety of visual beauty to the residents. You don’t have much leverage here.”
My mouth starts to protest, but I realize this argument might work.
“Okay, three years. I want it in writing and notarized.”
Rae fans herself and looks, for the fifth time, just beyond me to the right corner by the door. When I catch her eye, she looks away quickly. “That would take this matter out of house. I won’t go for that.”
“Lysa!” I call out to her. She is listening on the other side of the office door.
“Rae, if you knew anything about your employees, you would know Lysa used to have a career in banking before she decided to become a nurse.”
“Let me draft the letter,” Rae stalls. She is starting to log on to her computer.
“Not necessary. I have it right here. We’ll just fill in the details of three years coverage and that estimated amount.” I pull from my briefcase the document Angelica helped me create. I had forgotten that Angelica had been pre-law when we met in college.
“Mind if I have a piece of candy?” Lysa asks boldly.
No answer.
“I don’t recommend the red hots,” I say, extending the dish to Lysa while Rae signs on her line. A moment later I sign on mine.
On our way out, I look to the right and see a stack of flat banker boxes.
“Lysa, be sure a copy of this stays in my file. As a matter of fact, could you sit on my personnel file until next Monday?”
“I have a lockbox tucked away in a place she’d never go.”
“Where?’
“A resident’s room.”
We laugh at this unfortunate truth.
“Do you think she might be planning her escape?” I ask.
“Would we care?” Lysa deadpans while grabbing her coat and locking up her file drawer.
“Only if it ruined my plan to start back here on Monday.”
“Keep your perspective, Mari. What if she did leave on the first plane to Nepal tomorrow? Do you think some new director is going to reject a big, fat check and a fantastic person, like yourself, who is willing to work here for peanuts because you care? She’d be nuts.”