Bad Girls Don't (17 page)

“I . . . uh . . . perhaps I should wait outside until you . . . er . . . recover.”

As Angel watched the door close behind him, she wondered how many people had the power to make billionaire Adam Kemp retreat from his own office. Not many, she was willing to bet. Which left her feeling strangely proud of herself.

 

 

Skye stood before the Tivoli Theater, her friends gathered around her. It was the Sunday before Labor Day. “I appreciate you coming here today to help me celebrate my finally getting possession of the theater.” In honor of the big event, Skye had taped a length of ribbon across the Tivoli’s dusty glass entrance doors. She’d also borrowed Toni’s tiara, which she wore perched on top of her head as she addressed the small crowd—Angel, Sue Ellen, Lulu, Algee, and Tyler. And, of course, Toni, who had dressed up for the occasion by teaming her pink tutu with a pair of orange polka-dotted tights and a lime green top.

“It’s Labor Day weekend, so it’s fitting that we spend it working,” Angel said.

Skye had asked everyone to wear work clothes, which meant different things to different people. To Tyler and Algee, it meant jeans and T-shirts. To Lulu, it meant wearing her “No Sense in Being Pessimistic. It Wouldn’t Work Anyway” tank top and baggy black pants with metal studs on the pockets. But to Sue Ellen, it meant sculpted red nails with red and white stripes to match her red-and-white-striped bandeau top, red shorts, and red kitten-heeled sandals.

“Ready, everyone?” Skye said.

“Wait! I want a picture.” Sue Ellen handed a disposable camera to Skye. “Take my picture. Make sure you get the nails in clearly.” She turned her back to Skye and looked co-quettishly over her shoulder, her chin resting on one hand.

“What are you doing?” Skye said.

“I’m posing. You know, the way all the big-name actresses do on the red carpet.”

“Where’s the red carpet?” Toni demanded. “I like red.”

“Yes, where is the red carpet?” Sue Ellen asked. “I expected for this momentous occasion—”

“I’m saving it for the theater’s reopening,” Skye broke in, clicking the camera’s shutter without paying much attention.

“Are you sure you got my nails?” Sue Ellen sent her a worried look. “I had my hand posed just right on my shoulder. And my eyebrows looked okay too, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Skye muttered, passing the camera back to her. “Now where was I . . . ? Oh, yeah.” Taking the small sewing scissors Angel handed her, she said in a tony English accent, “I declare this theater . . . open for work!” And with a royal wave, she cut the ribbon.

Everyone jumbled forward, but Skye had to unlock the front door first. “Hold on! Okay.”

The door open, they all hurried inside. And were stunned into silence.

“Usually people look at a piece of property
before
they buy it,” Algee noted. “You looked in here before buying, right?”

“Sort of. I wasn’t seeing all the work that had to be done. I was seeing possibilities.” Skye sounded a tad defensive.

“I think you were hallucinating,” Sue Ellen said. “I hear you can do that if you drink too much carrot juice.”

“An urban myth,” Skye said.

“So is this place.”

The lobby had seen better days, to put it mildly. Cobwebs dangled from the ceiling, and stalactites of dust hung in the corners. A once-white-but-now-grubby drop cloth haphazardly covered the concession stand’s two glass cases. The walls and floor were dark and grungy, and there was an unmistakably musty smell in the air. Dust motes danced in the pale sunlight filtering in through the dirty glass entry doors.

“Well, it’s mine now,” Skye stated proudly.

Sue Ellen shook her head in disbelief. “Yes, it is . . . you poor lost soul.”

“Thank you for your words of encouragement, Sue Ellen. As always, they are such a morale boost.”

“If you’re looking for a morale boost, get a manicure.” Sue Ellen waved her acrylic nails at her.

Skye turned to another friend. “What do you think, Algee?”

“You’re going to need some major elbow grease.”

“I agree,” Tyler said from beside him.

“I could smudge the interior for you,” Angel offered. “Burn some dried sage and juniper to get rid of any negative energy that might be left behind.”

Tyler looked around, frowning at the brass wall sconce barely clinging to the wall. “Speaking of energy, you’re going to need an electrician to check out the entire system, and a plumber to check out the pipes.”

“My granddad could help with that,” Lulu said. “The electrical part, I mean. He’s a retired electrician. He should be getting back from his biker rally in South Dakota in a few days. I’ll have him give you a call when he does.”

“Thanks, Lulu. And thanks, everyone, for agreeing to pitch in and help out today.”

“I like that little ticket-booth thing there by the entrance,” Lulu said. “Sweet.”

“Where’s the ice cream?” Toni demanded, pointing at a picture of a Fudgsicle on the wall behind the concession stand.

“No ice cream,” Skye replied. “They’re all out.”

Sue Ellen sneezed. “It sure is dusty in here.”

“Well, the place has been closed up for a number of years,” Skye said.

“You don’t think it’s haunted, do you?” Sue Ellen’s eyes darted around the shadowy interior. “Like in
The Phantom of the Opera
? I never saw it, but I heard it had something to do with a haunted theater.”

“I’d love to have a ghost,” Skye said with enthusiasm.

Sue Ellen jumped as a florescent tube above the concession stand flickered off in a burst of blue light. “I knew it! This place
is
haunted.”

“Maybe someone was murdered here once.” Lulu used her best “spooky” voice, which was good enough to go on a Halloween recording. “Do you know how many murder victims know their attackers?”

“No, and I don’t want to!” Sue Ellen backed up until she was at the entrance, her hands reaching behind her for the door handle. “I’m not feeling very well.”

“Oh, don’t be such a wimp,” Lulu said.

“Come on. I think the realtor told me the rest of the light switches are in the office.” Skye unlocked the door to a small room with paneling from the seventies, just like in Nick’s Tavern. The photo on the wall was of former President Ronald Reagan. That was it as far as artwork went. A dented black file cabinet stood alongside a scarred oak desk in one corner. The top of the desk showed a number of cigarette burns as well as water stains from cups once placed on its surface.

A metal folding chair was placed behind the abused desk. Skye sat on the wobbly chair and faced her friends and family. “So, what do you think? Do I look like a business mogul?”

“Not in that outfit,” Sue Ellen replied.

“Good. I don’t want to be a mogul.” Skye was wearing her “Got Brains” T-shirt and rattiest low-cut jeans. Not exactly Donald Trump Apprentice attire. “I wouldn’t mind skiing some moguls, but that’s another story.”

“We should probably start with a list of repairs that need to be made,” Tyler suggested. “You’re going to have to hire professionals for some of the work or you won’t meet the code requirements.”

“Believe me,” Skye assured him, “after getting zapped with a bolt of electricity a few weeks ago trying to fix our toaster, I have no intention of playing with that stuff. But the cleaning can be done by us. And some of the minor repairs.”

“Did you see that vintage popcorn machine in the lobby?” Angel asked.

Skye nodded. “Of course, we’re only going to sell organic popcorn.”

Angel waved her hands. “And none of that fake butter stuff.”

“Right,” Skye agreed. “We’ll have brewer’s yeast. Or chili powder and lime zest.”

Sue Ellen stared at Skye and Angel as if they’d stepped out of a
Friday the 13th
movie. “Brewer’s yeast? Lime zest? On popcorn? That’s just wrong. Who’s going to buy that?”

“Anyone with good sense.”

“We don’t want customers with good sense, we want customers with good taste. Which is why you should use my decorating talents. I hate to brag, but”—Sue Ellen fluffed her hair—“I’ve been told that I have outstanding taste.”

“Oh, please.” Lulu popped the gum she was chewing. “You like velvet paintings of Elvis.”

“They are art.”

Lulu sighed, signaling that in her opinion Sue Ellen was hopeless. “I rest my case.”

“Right, like you’re the expert on what’s tasteful,” Sue Ellen shot back. “You work in a comic-book store and you wear skulls in your ears.”

“You’re both creating negative energy within this space,” Angel gently chastised them.

“Can we return to structural issues here?” Tyler’s voice reflected his impatience.

“I’m with you, man.” Algee just shook his head. “You really think that you can make this a successful business, Skye?”

“No, I thought I’d just burn a million dollars for the hell of it.” Skye’s voice reflected her growing aggravation. “I expected better from you of all people, Algee. Didn’t everyone doubt your sanity for opening a comic-book store?”

Algee nodded sheepishly.

“And yet here you are, a successful businessman who recently opened a new store.”

“A smaller one than in Serenity Springs,” Algee pointed out. “There’s nothing small about this place.”

Sue Ellen raised her hand as if in class. Only she didn’t wait to be called upon before speaking. “Tell me again why you think people will come here instead of going to that megaplex out past the interstate?”

“Because that’s almost an hour’s drive each way,” Skye said. “Here, the people of Rock Creek can have a movie theater in their own downtown. That’s more than Serenity Falls has.”

“True.” Sue Ellen’s expression became more optimistic. “That alone is an excellent reason for doing this. We’ll have a movie theater and they won’t.”

“Now that the lights are on, let’s look at the grand auditorium, shall we?” Angel suggested.

Sue Ellen appeared confused. “The what?”

“The theater’s seating area,” Skye explained.

“Oh. Right.”

Tyler held the door open for them as they filed into the auditorium and down the center aisle.

For the first time, Skye noticed the ragged holes in some of the seats and in the red velvet drapery flanking the stage. She also heard the unmistakable skitter of little rodent feet.

“Mice!” Sue Ellen shrieked, snatching Toni up in her arms. “This is no place for a child right now. I’ll babysit her while you get things under control.”

“Don’t take her to Dairy Queen,” Skye said as Sue Ellen jogged up the aisle toward the exit. “She got sick from eating too much ice cream the last time you took her there.”

Sue Ellen just kept jogging, almost knocking down Sister Mary on her way out.

“I heard you could use a little extra elbow grease over here,” the nun said. “So I brought a few volunteers.” She’d rounded up a number of people who helped out at the thrift shop or had been fed at the soup kitchen. “We even brought our own buckets.” She lifted them for everyone to see. “Where do you want us to get started?”

“In the lobby area,” Skye said. “And thanks so much for coming to help!”

Tyler and Algee were already checking out the rows of seats, marking those that needed to be rebolted to the floor and those too far gone for repairs. The worst seemed to be in the front row.

“Remember that movie theater in Mendocino that had couches on the sides in the front row? I bet we could find a pair of comfy couches to use. And I could make some washable slipcovers for them,” Angel said.

“That’s a great idea. Thanks, Angel!” Skye gave her a grateful hug.

And so they all got to work. Scrubbing. Sweeping. Polishing.

Four hours later, great progress had been made. The cobwebs were gone. The razzle-dazzle marble floor in the lobby glowed. The red carpeting in the auditorium had been vacuumed, the velvet drapes removed for repairs. The sound track for their labor included selections ranging from Sister Mary’s dream-guy, Frank Sinatra, to Lulu’s choice of Marilyn Manson, to Angel’s fave, Enya. All the tunes were blasting from the speakers of the sound dock that held Lulu’s iPod.

Skye paused beside Lulu, who was washing down the glass cases at the concession stand. “I didn’t know you’d downloaded Frank.”

Lulu just shrugged. “I knew Sister Mary likes his stuff. And it’s kind of retro. So when I heard she might be helping out today, I went online.”

Skye gave her a big hug. “You’re wicked awesome.”

Lulu grinned. “Yeah, I am.”

“This place is great,” Sister Mary enthused as she joined them. “There’s an elegant ornateness to it. Can’t you just imagine Cary Grant walking in?”

“If he does, hand him a mop,” Algee said as he walked by with another bag of garbage.

“I don’t envy whoever gets the job of cleaning that chandelier,” Sister Mary confessed, pointing up.

“I love the saying over the doorway.” Skye pointed to the recently uncovered discovery, hidden beneath layers of dirt. “‘Don’t give the people what they want, give them something better.’ Roxy Rothafel.”

“Who the hell is”—Lulu shot a guilty look at Sister Mary—“I mean, who the heck is Roxy Rothafel?”

“Don’t know,” Skye admitted. “I’ll have to Google him tonight and find out. But for now, I’m just going to go out and check the marquee.”

Skye had barely gotten outside when Toni launched herself at her. “Mommy! I got man-cured!”

Which immediately made Skye wish she could cure herself from the temptation of one man—Nathan. “Man-cured, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Skye gave her a sloppy kiss on her cheek, the kind that always made Toni crack up, before setting her back down.

“We had a great time. Toni got a manicure. Knowing you, I made sure the nail polish was a brand that isn’t tested on animals. Look, it turned out great.” Sue Ellen showed off Toni’s newly painted green nails. “Toni picked out the color herself. To match your eyes.”