Priced to Move

all the cracker crud he’s flicked out of the cage.”

My aunt, practically mesmerized by the bird, nods. “Sure.

It’s not any big never mind. The floor’s good ol’ pine, and it cleans up right nice. Don’t you worry yourself about Rio and my kitchen. I know we’re going to get on real fine.”

That doesn’t exactly reassure me. Then again, nothing much about Aunt Weeby does.

But I’m not a woman of leisure. I can’t stick around and babysit . . . er . . . keep an eye on things. I have a show to prepare for. Thank goodness Sally and I determined ahead of time what I’d sell in the first six shows. Last night’s events are renting too much room in my brain for me to go in and choose a whole show’s worth of material right now.

As I head back upstairs, My cell phone rings. I hurry, and am thrilled to hear Peggy’s voice. “How are you?” I ask.

“Great. I loved your first show. Who’s the guy?”

“Don’t go there! Miss Mona sprang him on me as a surprise five minutes before I went on. And he’s no great bargain.”

“He looks great.”

“That’s about it for him.”

“Aw . . . I’m sure you’ll find a good side to him.”

When she falls silent, I get a bad feeling I know what’s coming. And she doesn’t disappoint.

“Listen, Andie. Are you okay? I read the paper this morning, and I figure you must be the person named as the ‘new employee who found the corpse.’ What happened?”

I tell her what I can, since I don’t know much. She commiserates, we talk about her kids, and then I notice the time.

“Hey, listen. I gotta go. I’m due at the studio soon.”

We agree to lunch next Saturday, and hang up. I hit the shower feeling way better than I have since before Miss Mona presented me with the S.T.U.D.’s stud.

I dress in the gorgeous black Ann Taylor jacquard jacket and skirt, and hit the road. By the time I reach the S.T.U.D.— can you believe that’s what they call the studio and warehouse complex?—I’ve almost talked myself into believing I can, really and truly, do today’s show.

But as I hurry down the hall to hair and makeup, I see my nemesis in the hall. Before I can duck out, he sees me too, and heads my way.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks.

What kind of greeting is that? “How’d I sleep?” I roll my eyes. “Like a log. I was drained. Why’re you here?”

His cheeks turn a bronzy rust—did I mention he’s got a to-die-for surfer-boy tan to go with the blond hair and baby blues?—and he blinks. “Sorry. But I don’t get it. What do you mean, why am I here? I have a job, a contract. I have a show to host.”

I snort. “And how do you plan to do that when you don’t know gems from Jell-O?”

He takes a step back. “That’s not exactly right. I know my diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. Oh, and garnets too. The real ones, that is. Come on. Tell me. What was that orange thing you were selling yesterday? And don’t give me that mandarin garnet spiel. We both know that’s not really what it is —”

“You can’t help yourself, can you? You have to go and show how little you do know about gemstones. What you saw on the set yesterday is a garnet. One of the rarest stones on earth.” “Look. I’m not some lonely disabled grandma with only the TV and a clicker to keep me company. I can see how they’ll buy—in more ways than one—anything they hear from slick shopping network hosts.”

“Ick! That’s a nasty way to look at our customers.”

He shrugs. “I bet it’s a realistic one.”

“And you would know how?”

He stands taller. “I’ve been on TV for a number of years. Something you can’t match.”

“True. I haven’t been on TV before, but I’ve spent my entire adult life studying gems. Something you can’t match. I do know what a spessartite garnet is.”

He crosses his arms and studies me. I don’t like the warm sensations that run through me when those baby blues land on me. He looks too good for my comfort zone.

Uh-oh. How shallow is that? Not good. Gotta pray about it. And build a big, fat wall to protect myself from that scary effect Max the Magnificent has on me.

“Look,” he finally says. “I didn’t just barge onto that set yesterday. Miss Mona did hire me.”

I don’t like it, but he’s right. “She did.”

“And she hired you too. Didn’t she?”

He better not think he’s gonna chase me away. I tip up my chin. “She and my Aunt Weeby conspired and connived to get me to take the job. They want me for my gemological knowledge.”

“But they don’t want your on-screen ignorance, do they?” Ouch! “Just as they don’t want your gemological ignorance.”

“But that’s the beauty. I’m multifaceted.”