Chapter 4: The Madam
59.5 Hours
(12:30 p.m. Saturday)
I felt like I was swimming in shark-infested waters as I navigated through the hotel. Thankfully, I made it out of the front door without seeing any of my particular sharks. I had briefly considered slipping out a back door, but the horror of my dream from the night before outweighed the worry of running into Marek, Grace, or my sister.
I heaved a sigh of relief when I reached the sidewalk and turned towards The Madam. Despite a slight chill in the air, it was a gorgeous, sunny day with barely a cloud in the sky. Too bad I hadn’t packed my sunglasses yesterday. It was only a couple of blocks to The Madam, but the sun bored into my eyes and intensified my headache. Actually, it seemed to burn into my entire body. That martini had really dehydrated me. That and the vomiting.
The only bright spot in this miserable day was Mama canceling my party. Now I could spend the whole of my birthday in bed snuggling with Bo if I wanted to. I’d have to contact Owen Carter, my full-time web designer and part-time dog sitter, about picking her up. Figuring a quick conversation was better than trying to text while walking, I called him.
“Hey, Owen! I’m almost on my way.”
“Since I hadn’t heard from you, I figured you were running late, and I’m bringing Bo to you.”
My relief at not having to drive to Owen’s house in my hungover state was short-lived when he continued, “I hope you had a great time last night. Don’t think you can rush out the door without sharing all the juicy details. You can be late to your birthday party.”
“Mmm,” I responded, while inwardly I groaned. Although I hadn’t given Owen any details when I asked him to keep Bo for the night, I suspected he knew exactly what I had been up to. Or at least, what I had been trying to be up to. I got that feeling with Owen a lot. Most people accept the walls you build around yourself at face value. Owen was one of those rare people who seemed to see right through those walls to the core of everything you were trying to protect. It was disconcerting. I hadn’t decided if he was intuitive or simply a big snoop who didn’t respect boundaries and asked awkward, prying questions that I always ended up answering. I hadn’t mastered the art of telling people to mind their own business. People usually just weren’t that interested in me, so I’d never had to.
“Great. I’ll be there in five. Pour me a glass of wine.” Owen disconnected without a goodbye, much less a happy birthday. I expected that from Mama, but Owen forgetting to say the words was a surprise. I wondered if my entire birthday would pass by without someone wishing me a good one. I’m not one to wallow or feel sorry for myself, but I felt like kicking a stone on the sidewalk.
All thoughts of wallowing melted away when I looked up to see my beautiful Victorian looming half a block ahead of me. The Madam. The sight of her never failed to give me chills, and the goosebumps on my arms proved her magic was working. The large house was the very definition of an architectural flight of fancy. But the creamy white paint that covered her expanse, and the pastel shades of lavender and mint that outlined her windows and adorned her trim, brought to mind an elaborate wedding cake rather than a house. Several porches draped the house like swags of buttercream icing, and the numerous pitches in her roof further added to her embellishments. However, the topper was the honest-to-God turret that stood proudly at the front of the house.
I had inherited The Madam from Jad’s aunt, Hattie Thompson, who’d gotten a kick out of living in a house that resembled the wedding cake she never had. The colors weren’t my choice, but I couldn’t imagine The Madam any other way. So confectionary she would stay.
Before I could slip my phone into my back pocket, it rang. Bill Martinez’s name and number popped up on the display.
“Oh, what now?” I asked the universe in disgust. Bill was the contractor in charge of the renovations to turn The Madam into The Whine Barrel. He was an exceptionally competent contractor in his mid-forties, and had been one of the few bright spots in the process. But it had been a long week with issue after issue, and I didn’t want to deal with another one today.
“Hey, Bill, what’s up?”
“What the hell happened since your meeting with Council Member Crockett on Wednesday?” Bill asked, skipping the usual pleasantries.
I did a mental head slap. On Wednesday, I had met with Council Member Crockett and Bernie Wallach. Bernie called himself a community activist, but really, he was just a massive pain in my ass. He was doing his best to torpedo the opening of The Whine Barrel and, unfortunately, was succeeding. Tom Harner, The Madam’s closest neighbor, had also been at the meeting. Bill knew that session had ended with the final code inspection for The Whine Barrel being indefinitely put on hold, but I had forgotten to tell him what had happened yesterday.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I meant to call you about it, but last night and today have been crazy. Bernie and Tom dropped by the house yesterday unannounced. It wasn’t pretty, and when they left, Bernie was making noises about complaining to Crockett. Why?”
“Whatever Bernie did worked in our favor. You remember Don Williams, the code inspector with the city who has been out a few times? He just called, and wants us to meet him at The Madam for the code inspection.”
“The same code inspection that Bernie somehow got held up for the last week? The one Crockett told us wouldn’t happen anytime soon—that code inspection?” I asked in disbelief.
“The same. But I should warn you, Inspector Williams is madder than a wet hen about having to do it on a Saturday. Don’t be surprised if he nitpicks everything.”
“Are we ready for this? I mean, I know the inspection was supposed to have happened earlier this week, but when it got canceled did anything get pushed back or fall between the cracks?”
“Except for a pissed-off code inspector gunning for us, we are good to go,” Bill replied.
“Great. What time does he want to meet us?”
“Now.”
“Now?” I asked incredulously.
“Now.”
“Okay,” I replied weakly. “I guess this thing is happening.”
