Kitabı oku: «Crime in the Café», sayfa 3

The elevator doors pinged open and they stepped out together into the main corridor, with its linoleum floor and myriad of signage and medical posters drilled into the walls.

Lacey caught Suzy peering at them, as if she’d only just seen them. As if it had only now occurred to her just how much work was needed to transform this place. For the first time, she looked a little overwhelmed. Worry began to shine in her eyes.

“Do you think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew?” she asked, as they headed back into the foyer.

Lacey’s instincts to not disappoint her kicked in.

“I’m not going to lie,” she said carefully. “It will be a lot of hard work. But I do think it’s possible. I already have quite a lot of stock that would be appropriate for the theme. But there’s some really big things you need to prioritize before any decorating can begin.”

“Like what?” Suzy asked, grabbing a piece of scrap paper, as if hanging on Lacey’s every word of expertise.

“The floors,” Lacey began, pacing through the room. “This linoleum has got to go. The walls need to be stripped of that horrible textured paper. The artex ceiling. Opening up the fireplace alone will take a whole team…”

“So basically, gut the place and start again?” Suzy interrupted, looking up from her notes.

“Pretty much. And don’t take shortcuts. When it comes to interiors, it’s all about the small details. You need to create a fantasy. No fake wallpaper made to look like wood paneling. If you’re going to go for paneling, make it real. Fake looks cheap. So sourcing that is an absolute priority.”

Suzy went back to scribbling, nodding the whole time Lacey spoke. “Do you know a good handyman?”

“Suzy, you need ten handymen,” Lacey told her. “At least! And a whole soccer team’s worth of decorators. Have you even got the budget for all of this?”

Suzy looked up. “Yes. Pretty much. I mean, I won’t be able to pay anyone until the hotel starts bringing in money, which might make it harder to find people to agree to do the work…”

Her voice trailed away, as she flashed Lacey a hopeful, puppy-dog look.

Lacey felt even less certain than she had before. Not being paid in advance would be risky, since she’d have to source a bunch of merchandise that would run into the tens of thousands of pounds. And taking on such a big project when the turnaround time was so tight, and when she had her own business to think about, may be unwise. But on the other hand, she’d really enjoyed the tour, and could picture how the place would look filled up with antique pieces. She’d also enjoyed accessing her old expertise over interior design, and combining it with her new talents for antiquing. Suzy was presenting her with a unique opportunity, and the B&B was absolutely certain to turn a profit very quickly, indeed. Yes, it would be a huge financial risk, and a massive drain of her time and energy, but when would Lacey get a chance like this again?

Not quite ready to give Suzy a definitive answer, Lacey said, “Hold that thought.”

She went out to her car and fetched the flintlock in its case and carried it back into the estate.

“The rifle!” Suzy beamed, grinning at the sight of it. She looked just as thrilled to see it as she had the first time Lacey had shown it to her yesterday at the store. “You brought it? For me?”

“Yup,” Lacey told her.

She placed it on the reception desk and clicked open the latches.

Suzy reached in and took it out, running her fingers over the barrel lovingly. “Can I pick it up?”

“Sure,” Lacey said.

Suzy lifted it and adopted a shooting stance. She looked like something of a pro, so much so that Lacey was about to ask her if she’d ever been hunting herself. But before she got the chance, there came the sound of the automatic foyer doors swishing open behind them.

Lacey turned to see a man in a dark suit striding in through the doors. Following behind him was a woman in a presidential-looking dark crimson skirt-suit. Lacey recognized the woman from town meetings. It was Councilor Muir, their local MP.

Suzy swirled too, rifle still in hand.

At the sight of it, the man in the suit barreled into Councilor Muir protectively.

“Suzy!” Lacey squealed. “Put the rifle down!”

“Oh!” Suzy said, her cheeks flaming red.

“It’s just an antique!” Lacey told the security man, who was still protectively huddling his arms around Councilor Muir.

Finally, a little hesitantly, he released her.

The councilwoman straightened out her suit and patted down her hair. “Thank you, Benson,” she said stiffly to the aide who’d been about to take a bullet for her. She looked embarrassed more than anything.

“Sorry, Joanie,” Suzy said. “For pointing a gun in your face.”

Joanie? Lacey thought. That was a very familiar way to address the woman. Did the two know one another on a personal level?

Councilor Muir said nothing. Her gaze flicked to Lacey. “Who’s this?”

“This is my friend Lacey,” Suzy said. “She’s going to decorate the B&B. Hopefully.”

Lacey stepped forward and proffered her hand to the councilor. She’d never actually seen her up close, just speaking from the town hall’s podium, or on the occasional flyer that was posted through the store’s letterbox. She was in her fifties, older than in her PR photo; the lines around her eyes gave her away. She looked tired and stressed, and didn’t take Lacey’s outstretched hand, since her arms were full cradling a thick manila envelope.

“Is that my business license?” Suzy squealed with excitement as she noticed it.

“Yes,” Councilor Muir said hurriedly, shoving it toward her. “I was just coming by to drop it off.”

“Joanie sorted this all out for me so quickly,” Suzy said to Lacey. “What’s the word? You expediated it?”

“Expedited,” one of the aides piped up, earning himself a sharp glare from Councilor Muir.

Lacey frowned. It was highly unusual for a councilor to be hand delivering business licenses. When Lacey had applied for her own, it had involved lots of online form-filling and sitting around in dingy council buildings waiting for the number on her ticket to be called, as if she were in the queue at the butcher’s. She wondered why Suzy would get the red carpet treatment. And why were they already on first-name terms?

“Do you two know each other from somewhere?” Lacey asked, venturing to find out what the deal was here.

Suzy chuckled. “Joan’s my aunt.”

“Ah,” Lacey said.

That made perfect sense. Councilor Muir had approved the rush job of switching a retirement home into a B&B because she had a family connection to Suzy. Carol had been right. There was a lot of nepotism at play here.

“Ex-aunt,” Councilor Muir corrected, defensively. “And not by blood. Suzy is my ex-husband’s niece. And that didn’t play any part in the decision to grant the license. It’s just about high time Wilfordshire got a decent-sized B&B. Tourism is going up year on year, and our current facilities just can’t keep up with demand.”

It was evident to Lacey that Councilor Muir was attempting to divert the conversation away from the obvious preferential treatment Suzy had been given. But it really wasn’t necessary. It didn’t change Lacey’s opinion of Suzy, since it wasn’t her fault she was well connected, and as far as Lacey was concerned, it showed good character that she was using her connections to do something rather than just rest on her laurels. If anyone came off looking bad, it was Councilor Muir herself, and not because she’d used her influential position to grant a huge favor to her ex-husband’s niece, but because she was being so shady and evasive about it. No wonder the Carols of Wilfordshire were so opposed to the eastern regeneration project!

The crimson-clad councilor was still spouting her excuses. “The town actually has enough demand for two B&Bs this size, especially when you factor in all the extra trade we’ll get from luring back the old shooting club.”

Lacey was immediately interested. She thought of Xavier’s note and his suggestion that her father came to Wilfordshire in the summers to shoot.

“The old shooting club?” she asked.

“Yes, the one up at Penrose Manor,” Councilor Muir explained, gesturing with her arm in a general westerly direction where the estate was nestled on the other side of the valley.

“There was a forest there once, right?” Suzy chimed in. “I heard Henry the Eighth had the hunting lodge built so he could come and hunt wild boar!”

“That’s right,” the councilor said with a businesslike nod. “But the forest was eventually cut down. As with many English estates, the nobles took up shooting game birds once guns were invented, and that turned into the industry as we know it now. These days breeders rear mallards, partridges, and pheasants just for shooting.”

“What about rabbits and pigeons?” Lacey offered, recalling the contents of Xavier’s letter.

“They can be shot all year round,” Councilor Muir confirmed. “The Wilfordshire shooting club taught amateurs during the off-season, and they practiced on pigeons and rabbits. Not exactly glamorous, but you have to start somewhere.”

Lacey let the information percolate in her mind. It corresponded so accurately with what Xavier had said in the letter, she couldn’t help but believe that her father really had come to Wilfordshire in the summers to shoot at Penrose Manor. Coupling that with the photo she’d seen of her father and Iris Archer, the former owner, and it seemed even more likely.

Was that why the gun had felt so familiar to her, because somewhere in the back of her mind she had memories she’d not been able to access?

“I never knew there was a hunting lodge at Penrose Manor,” she said. “When did the shooting club stop operating there?”

“About a decade ago,” Councilor Muir replied. She had a weary tone, like she would prefer not to be having this conversation. “They ceased operations because of …” She paused, evidently searching for the most diplomatic words. “…Financial mismanagement.”

Lacey couldn’t be certain, but there seemed to be an air of melancholy about the councilor, as if she had some kind of personal connection to the shooting club and its demise a decade earlier. Lacey wanted to ask more, to find out whether there may be more clues that led back to her father, but the conversation had swiftly moved on, with Suzy’s enthusiastic, “So you see how much untapped potential there is here, and why you should totally get on board with the project!”

The councilor nodded in her stiff manner. “If you’re being given a chance to get involved in the easterly regeneration of Wilfordshire,” she said, “I would most certainly take it. The B&B is just the beginning. Mayor Fletcher has some very big plans for this town. If you make a name for yourself, you’ll be at the top of everyone’s contacts when it comes to future projects.”

Lacey certainly was becoming more and more intrigued by the job offer. Not just for the huge potential to get her name out there—potentially earning a handsome profit while she was at it—but because of how connected it made her feel with Wilfordshire, and her father in turn. She wondered whether her father had seen all the potential in the town back in the days when he’d visited. Perhaps that was why he’d come here in the first place, because he saw a business opportunity and wanted to invest?

Or because he wanted to run away from his marriage and family and settle down in a place more suited to him, Lacey thought.

“Now, I must be going,” Councilwoman Muir said, beckoning her entourage. They leapt immediately to attention. “I have a surgery to attend. The locals are furious about the proposed pedestrianization of the high street. Honestly, you’d think I’d approved to have lava poured into the roads the way they’re acting.” She gave Suzy a quick, efficient nod, then left.

As soon as she was gone, Suzy turned to Lacey with an eager look on her face, the manila envelope containing her business license now clutched in her hands.

“So?” she asked. “What do you say? Want in?”

“Can I have a bit of time to make up my mind?”

“Sure.” Suzy chuckled. “We open in a week. Take up as much of that time deciding as you want.”

*

Lacey opened the door to the antiques store. Boudica and Chester came bounding over to greet her. She ruffled their heads in turn.

“You’re back,” Gina said, looking up from the gardening magazine she’d been perusing. “How did it go with wunderkind?”

“It was interesting,” Lacey said. She came over and took a stool at the desk beside her. “It’s an amazing place, with a lot of potential. And the councilwoman seems to think so as well.”

Gina folded her gardening magazine closed. “Councilwoman?”

“Yes, Councilor Muir,” Lacey told her. “She’s Suzy’s aunt. This whole B&B thing seems to be part of Mayor Fletcher’s plans to regenerate east Wilfordshire. Not that that’s Suzy’s fault, per se, but it does make her seem even more out of her depth. Who knows what her actual business plan looks like, or if it was just approved because of her aunt.”

Gina tapped her chin. “Hmm. So Carol was onto something after all.”

“In a way.”

“But putting all that political stuff aside,” Gina added, swiveling in her stool so she was directly facing Lacey. “What would it mean for you to get involved?”

Lacey paused. A small flicker of excitement ignited in her stomach. If she put all the nagging doubts to one side, it really was an amazing opportunity.

“It means I’d have responsibility for furnishing a four-hundred-square-meter property with period pieces. For an antique lover, that’s basically heaven.”

“And the money?” Gina asked.

“Oh, it’d bring in a lot of dollars. We’re talking thousands of pounds of inventory. A whole dining room. A foyer. A bar. Six bedrooms and a bridal suite. It’s a massive undertaking. Add to that the potential for more work in the future by getting my name out there, and the fact that having a B&B for special occasions like the air show will have a positive knock-on effect for the rest of the town…”

Gina was starting to smile. “It sounds to me like you’ve talked yourself into it.”

Lacey gave a noncommittal nod. “Maybe I have. But wouldn’t it be crazy? I mean, she wants it done in time for the air show. Which is on Saturday!”

“And since when did working hard scare you?” Gina asked sassily. She gestured with her arms to the antiques store. “Look at everything you’ve already achieved from working hard.”

Lacey was too modest to take the compliment, but the sentiment she could get behind. She’d become a risk taker. If she’d not quit her job in New York City and gotten the first flight to England, she’d never have built this wonderful life for herself. She’d be a miserable divorcee, still fetching coffee for Saskia like an intern rather than an assistant with fourteen years’ experience. Taking on this work with Suzy was the sort of thing Saskia would fight tooth and manicured nail for. That alone was reason to do it.

“I think you know what to do,” Gina said. She picked up the telephone and plonked it in front of Lacey. “Give Suzy a call and tell her you’re on board.”

Lacey stared at the phone, biting her bottom lip. “But what about all the costs?” she said. “That much inventory in such a short space of time will be a massive outgoing all at once. Way more than I’d ever usually spend on stock.”

“You’ll get paid for it, though?” Gina said.

“Only after the B&B starts making money.”

“Which is a given, isn’t it? So you’re set to profit in time.” Gina nudged the telephone toward Lacey. “I think you’re looking for excuses.”

She was right, but that didn’t stop Lacey from finding another.

“What about you?” she said. “You’d have to mind the shop for a whole week? I won’t have time to do anything else.”

“I can run the store perfectly fine on my own,” Gina assured her.

“And Chester? He’d have to stay with you while I worked. Suzy doesn’t like dogs.”

“I think I can handle Chester, don’t you?”

Lacey looked from Gina to the phone and back again. Then, in one quick movement, she reached out, snatched up the receiver, and punched Suzy’s number in.

“Suzy?” she said the second the call was answered. “I’ve made my decision. I’m in.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“Oh, Percy, they’re wonderful!” Lacey gushed down the phone, looking at the opened box filled with silver forks she’d just received from her favorite Mayfair antiques dealer. She was in the cramped back office at the store, surrounded by binders full of checklists, sketches, mood boards, detail drawings, and a whole bunch of coffee-stained mugs.

“They’re all bundled into complete sets,” Percy explained. “Salad, soup, fish, dinner, dessert, and oyster.”

Lacey smiled broadly. “I don’t know if Suzy’s even planning to serve oysters, but if the Victorians had oyster forks on their tables, then we’d better have them on ours.”

She heard Percy’s grandfatherly chuckle through the speaker. “It does sound ever so exciting,” he said. “I must say it’s not often I receive an order for anything you own that’s Victorian.”

“Yes, well,” Lacey said. “I’m sure it’s not often that one of your buyers is tasked with turning a retirement home into a Victorian-themed B&B in a week!”

“Tell me, are you getting any sleep?”

“A solid four hours a night,” Lacey quipped.

Despite how hard she’d been working, she’d found the whole project thrilling so far. Exhilarating, even. It was like a mystery only she could solve, with a clock ticking away in the corner.

“Don’t run yourself into the ground,” Percy said, ever the gentle soul.

She ended the call, grabbed a marker pen, and put a large tick beside “utensils.” She was halfway through her list now, having pulled about a hundred favors, driven cross-country to Bristol and Bath to collect some particularly exceptional pieces, then out of country to Cardiff just for a gorgeous stone water feature that would look perfect in the foyer.

The foyer had proved the most difficult to design of all the rooms. Its architecture was basically a conservatory. Lacey had taken her inspiration from Victorian structures like Alexandra Palace in London and the greenhouses of Kew Gardens. Suzy had the decorators in there right now, ripping up that lino flooring, chucking out the dentist’s waiting-room blinds, and coating the white plastic frame with thin sheets of pliable metal, painted black to look like iron.

So far, the work had been fun, even with the sleep deprivation and long drives. But the dent to her bank balance was a little alarming. Lacey had collected thousands upon thousands of pounds’ worth of furniture, all perfect to fit with Suzy’s hunting lodge theme. And while she knew Suzy would settle the bill as soon as she’d made the money back, it still made her very uncomfortable to see the massive dip in her account. Especially considering the deal she’d made with Ivan over the mortgage at Crag Cottage. She’d hate to default on any payments to the sweet man who’d sold her her dream home, but if Suzy’s bill wasn’t settled by the end of June, she’d be forced to do just that.

The rifle alone was worth £5,000! Lacey had almost choked on her cappuccino when she’d researched its value in order to add it to Suzy’s bill, and had immediately messaged Xavier suggesting she wire him some money. But he responded with, it is a gift, which made her feel bad for having immediately sold it. But not too bad. Because what man innocently sends a valuable antique to a woman without having certain thoughts on his mind? Lacey was starting to accept that Gina might have been correct about Xavier’s intentions, and decided it was best to minimize her contact with him. Besides, she had a whole new lead to pursue in the search for her father now, with Penrose Manor’s former shooting club, so Xavier wasn’t the lifeline he’d once been.

In the main part of the store, Lacey could hear Gina bustling around. So far, the older woman had kept up with the demands of her new schedule pretty well. Her veto on heavy lifting had been temporarily suspended, and though Gina didn’t mind, Lacey worried about making a pensioner work so hard.

Just then, Lacey heard the bell go in the other room, and it was followed by the soft happy yips of Chester and Boudica. Lacey knew immediately that that meant Tom had arrived. She stopped what she was doing and hurried to the main shop floor.

Sure enough, her beau was there, feeding his special carob treats to the dogs. He looked up at the sound of her and flashed her one of his gorgeous smiles.

It felt like eons since Lacey had last seen or spoken to him. He’d been too busy making rainbow cupcakes, and she’d been elbow deep in Victorian antiques. Between the two of them, they’d not even had a spare moment to send a text, let alone be in the same place at the same time!

Lacey rushed toward him and gave him a peck on the lips.

“My dear,” she gushed. “It’s been so long. What are you doing here?”

“It’s Thursday,” he said simply. “Lunch date day.”

With their busy schedules, they’d agreed to pause their daily elevenses and scale back to a slightly more manageable weekly lunch on Thursdays. But that plan had been made before they’d both taken on their last-minute contracts, and Lacey had just assumed it would be off the cards for both of them. She’d promptly allowed it to be pushed out of her mind by the long laundry list of Victorian wares she had to source.

“Did you forget?” Tom asked.

“I wouldn’t say forget exactly,” Lacey said. “It’s just we’re both so busy…”

“Oh,” Tom said, the disappointment in his voice quite evident. “You’re canceling.”

Lacey felt awful. She’d not even realized she had anything to cancel in the first place. But she shouldn’t have assumed Tom would just shove their plans entirely away. Apparently, only she was callous enough to do that.

“I’m really sorry,” Lacey said, taking his hand and giving it a playful tug. “You know we’re having the grand opening of the Lodge tomorrow. I’m literally working flat out for the next twenty-four hours to get it all done. I probably won’t even have time to go to sleep tonight, so I can hardly spare an hour for lunch.” She chewed her lip, filled with guilt.

Tom seemed to be averting his eyes. She’d obviously really hurt his feelings.

“It’s one lunch,” Lacey promised him. “I just have this final hurdle. Then after the party tomorrow evening, I’ll be back to a normal schedule. And you’ll have finished with the cupcake bonanza, or whatever it’s called…”

“…Extravaganza,” Tom mumbled.

“Right. That.” Lacey swung his hands back and forth, trying to keep her tone light and breezy. “Then we’ll be back to normal. Okay?”

At last, Tom nodded. She had not seen him look this dejected before. In a way, it was kind of heartening, especially considering how worried she’d let herself get over Lucia. Turned out a very good antidote for jealousy was being so sleep deprived she was practically an automaton.

“Hey, you know what? You should come to the party,” Lacey said. She felt bad she hadn’t thought to invite him before. It was supposed to be a grand opening after all, with fireworks and food, and distinguished guests and all.

“Me?” Tom said. “I don’t think a pastry chef is highbrow enough for the Lodge.”

“Nonsense,” Lacey said. “Besides, I’ve never seen you in a tux, and I bet you look fabulous.”

She saw a mischievous glint return to Tom’s eye, reminding her of the Tom she knew and loved, rather than this sullen, disgruntled one.

“Well, as long as Suzy doesn’t mind,” he said. “But I can’t have a late night. Me and Luce need to start baking at six a.m. tomorrow.”

“Luce?” Lacey repeated. Then it dawned on her he meant Lucia.

He’d given her a pet name? One that sounded remarkably similar to the nickname Lacey herself had asked him not to call her, since it had been the same one her ex-husband used: Lace.

All at once, Lacey’s unsettled feeling over the young woman returned to her with the force of a gale. So much for her theory of being too tired to be jealous.

“Hey, that’s an idea. I should take Luce out for lunch today!” Tom said, apparently oblivious to the slightly incredulous tone Lacey had failed to hide. “You know, as a thank you for all her hard work. We’ve been literally flat out since I hired her, and I’ve had to really throw her in at the deep end. It’s been quite the learning curve and she’s taken it all in her stride. She’s a pretty remarkable young woman, really.”

Lacey felt her hands tightening into fists as she listened to Tom gush about the woman he’d just decided to take to lunch in her place. A myriad of emotions swirled around in her gut. Disappointment, of course, because she was missing out on spending time with her favorite person. Jealousy, too, that some other person would be getting his attention instead. But it was more than that, and deeper. Her jealousy wasn’t just because another person was getting Tom’s attention, but because another woman was. A “pretty remarkable young woman” nonetheless, with her wrinkle-free skin, ever-optimistic personality, and glistening white, perfectly aligned teeth. Then adding on top of the jealousy came embarrassment—because what would the locals think? If they saw Tom out to lunch with a pretty young woman, how long would it take for the rumor mill to start churning? Taryn for one would have a field day!

“Who will mind the patisserie?” Lacey asked, clutching desperately at any excuse to stop it from happening. “If you and Luce are both out at lunch… together.”

“Paul, obviously,” Tom replied, a confused frown appearing between his eyebrows.

For a moment, Lacey wondered if his frown was a sign that the ever-oblivious Tom had actually picked up on the undercurrent.

“Although he was being particularly klutzy today,” Tom continued. “He mixed up the whisk and the spatula. There really is something not quite wired right with that boy.”

So his frown had been about Paul’s lack of common sense rather than their relationship. Of course it had. Knowing the type of character Tom was, he probably had no idea that Lacey was jealous of Lucia, nor had any inkling as to why she might be. But from Lacey’s perspective, she found it maddening that such thoughts didn’t cross Tom’s mind, because it made her look like a crazy woman pointing it out.

“Probably not a good idea to leave him in charge then, is it?” Lacey said. “I mean, that’s the whole point of Lucia, right? To make sure someone other than Paul can run the shop.”

Tom scratched the back of his head contemplatively. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

For a brief moment, Lacey felt her chest lift with relief.

“But Luce deserves a treat. And I’m sure Paul won’t burn the place down in an hour!”

He laughed jovially, as if the issue had been resolved.

Lacey felt her shoulders slump. But it wasn’t worth the hassle today. She didn’t want to look paranoid and needy, especially when they didn’t have time for a proper relationship conversation for at least another few days. Best let this one lie, and approach it later on when she had more energy.

“Well, enjoy your lunch,” Lacey said, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll wave at you through the windows if I get half a chance.”

Tom chuckled. He took her in his arms and gave her a long, lingering kiss. Lacey accepted it, knowing it would have to sustain her for a very long time.

She watched Tom exit through the glass doors. At the same time, the huge antiques hauling van arrived and drew to a halt outside her store. It was large, but with the amount of stuff that needed to be driven from her store to the B&B, Lacey was certain they’d have to do at least two or three trips. It was going to be a very long, very tiring day.

As the hauling men climbed down from the van and started walking toward her store, Lacey felt her cell phone vibrating in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw Suzy’s name flashing at her.

She answered the call.

“Where are you?” Suzy asked.

She sounded harried. Throughout the week, her sunny exterior had started to wane. Lacey couldn’t blame her. It had been a lot of work for her. She couldn’t imagine how much stress the inexperienced young woman was under right now.

“I thought the furniture delivery was meant to be by midday?” Suzy added.

“The van got caught in traffic on the M5,” Lacey told her. “But it just pulled up.”

“Oh good,” Suzy said with a loud exhale. “Because Grumpy Greg is on the grumble to end all grumbles. He says he can’t do anything more without knowing where the furniture will be. He’s out in the garden right now complaining about the setup for the fireworks display, because some of the power sockets are broken, and he’ll have to run the extension cord from the old TV room, and it doesn’t stretch far enough, and blah blah blah. He says I should’ve hired an electrician on day one. He’s such a downer.”

Luckily, Lacey hadn’t had to have much contact with the notoriously bad-tempered events planner. Their roles at the B&B were quite separate, and he seemed so surly all the time she always gave him a wide berth.

He was right though; Suzy should have hired an electrician. The handymen had removed all the strip lights, but no one had been tasked with replacing them. Suzy’s solution was to use lamps. “Lamps are nicer anyway,” she’d said. Lacey had ordered fifty more Victorian lamps to go with the thirty or so she already had in her stock, and she still wasn’t sure it would be enough.

“Suzy,” Lacey assured her, “you’ve got this. Don’t let Grumpy Greg get you down. I’ll be as quick as I can, and then we can get to work. It’s exciting! Today’s the day everything starts to come together.”

“I’ll be excited when I’m holding a champagne glass at the party tomorrow,” Suzy said. “I just want it done now.”

“Sorry to break it to you,” Lacey said. “But when you’re running a business, there isn’t ever really a ‘done.’ There’s just a ‘more.’”

Suzy groaned. “Any more of that and I’ll give you a nickname like Grumpy Greg. How’d you feel about being Commonsense Lacey?”

Lacey chuckled. “If you’re not even going to use alliteration, I’d prefer Wise Lacey. Or Sagacious Lacey.”

Just then, the removal guy shoved open the door with his back and yanked in his wheeled gurney.

“I’ve got to go,” Lacey said to Suzy. “I’ll be with you in an hour.”

“You’d better, Late Lacey,” Suzy replied.