Contents ( 21)
- Contents
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
Dana puffed out her cheeks. “Close enough.”
“I’ve got some savings,” Zoe put in. “But I’m going to go through them pretty quick if I don’t get another job, and fast. I don’t know a lot about it, but it doesn’t look like these people would be after the little bit of money we’ve got.”
“Agreed. You want some coffee?”
“Thanks.” She turned back to them and spread her hands. “Look, you all don’t know me, and you’ve got no reason to care, but I could really use this money.” Zoe came forward. “Twenty-five thousand would be like a miracle. Security for my son, a chance maybe to do what I’ve always wanted. Have my own little salon. All we have to do is say yes. So we look for some keys. It’s not illegal.”
“There are no keys,” Dana insisted.
“What if there are?” Zoe put her cup down without drinking. “I have to say, the idea of twenty-five thousand dollars really helps open my mind to possibilities. And a million?” She gave a quick, baffled laugh. “I can’t even think about it. It makes my stomach hurt.”
“It’d be like a treasure hunt,” Malory murmured. “It could be fun. God knows, it could be profitable. Twenty-five thousand would really close the gap for me, and that’s a very practical priority just now. I might be able to have my own place, too. Not like The Gallery, but just a little place that spotlights artists and craftspeople.”
It was a full ten years before that was due in the order of her life plan, but she could be flexible.
“Nothing’s that simple. Nobody hands you money because you say you’ll do something.” Dana shook her head. “There’s got to be more under all this.”
“Maybe they believe it. The story,” Malory added. “If you believed it, twenty-five thousand would be chump change. We’re talking souls here.” Unable to help herself, she looked back at the portrait. “A soul’s worth more than twenty-five thousand dollars.”
Excitement bounced inside her like a bright red ball. She’d never had an adventure, certainly not a paying adventure. “They’ve got money, they’re eccentric, and they believe it. The fact is, going along with it sort of feels like we’re the ones pulling the scam. But I’m going to get over that.”
“You’ll do it?” Zoe grabbed her arm. “You’re going to do it?”
“It’s not every day you get paid to work for the gods. Come on, Dana, loosen up.”
Dana’s brows drew together, her forehead forming a stubborn, vertical line between them. “It’s asking for trouble. I don’t know where or how, but it just feels like trouble.”
“What would you do with twenty-five thousand?” Malory purred it, then offered another cream puff.
“Invest what I could so I could have my own little bookstore.” Her sigh was wistful, and a sign that she was weakening. “I’d serve tea in the afternoons, wine in the evenings. Have readings. Oh, boy.”
“It’s strange how we’re all having a job crisis, and that the thing we all want is to have our own place?” Zoe sent a wary look at the portrait again. “Don’t you think it’s strange?”