by Ashley Ladd
Clestie focused on Leo’s treatment of Mr. Borsch, learning all she could. In between taking Leo’s dictation, she jotted down meticulous notes to use the day Leo left her
80 Heavenly Hijinks
employ. Her heart ached at the constant reminder of his imminent departure, and she prayed he’d change his mind and stay with her. But her realistic Scorpio nature demanded she be ready for all eventualities.
Leo turned to her and paused. “What do you make of this?”
She leaned forward and squinted at the King of Cups. “May I use my book?” Her goal was to memorize every tarot card meaning, to memorize everything about each zodiac sign and then to learn the nuances, but she had a long way to reach that proficiency level.
Leo shook his head. “Try to remember. Use your gut instinct.”
Fear pulsed in her heart as she stared at the card. It was the King of Cups. What did she know about kings? Sovereign rulers, they were in charge. They led their people. But they were still men with very real emotions and feelings.
Emotions and feelings…
Bingo! Her memory flashed back in spurts.
“The nature of the cups is to experience feelings and emotions. It represents water and feelings.” She drummed her fingers on the table, trying to remember more and growing frustrated when the new knowledge eluded her.
Leo cast a charitable smile her way and came to her rescue. “The King of Cups represents a person who is repressing their feelings and is experiencing conflicting emotions. He or she dreams of being able to succeed in the world. They want closeness but fear being contained by the commitment that comes with it. Thus they often remain detached from anything but their own feelings. They dream big, but they have a lot of drive and ambition. They’re very intelligent.”
Mr. Borsch jutted out his jaw and sat up very straight. He puffed out his chest and flashed his new shiny veneers.
“He is very concerned with worldly accomplishments—too much so.” Leo peered down his nose at the man.
Two bright spots of color flared in Mr. Borsh’s cheeks and he averted his eyes. His chest sunk in and his shoulders drooped. “I—uh—have been pretty obsessed with my new Harley. The missus has been on my case about ignoring her.”
Leo nodded. “So you’ve been emotionally distant with your wife?”
Mr. Borsh hung his head. “Guess so. Not too good of me, is it?”
Leo shook his head. “Now that you realize this, you can fix it. What are you going to do?”
Mr. Borsh tugged and twisted his dangling skull earring. “Guess I could get her ringside tickets to the big wrestling match she’s been dying to catch. Maybe I could take her for a spin on my hog.”
Impressed, Clestie listened intently. Leo seemed more like a counselor than a fortune-teller.
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Mr. Borsh fiercely pumped Leo’s hand and then Clestie’s. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow and letting you know how it went.”
Clestie stood and followed the elderly biker to the front door. “Did you know we sell tarot cards? You could read your own.”
The man stopped and turned to her. He peered down and wiggled his wiry salt-and-pepper brows. “You trying to get rid of me?”
Aghast, Clestie felt heat creep up her neck and settle in her cheeks. “Of course not.” She lowered her voice. “I thought it might save you a bit of money. And provide a bit of fun.”
“Pshaw! I get my fun by coming here and gazing at your pretty face. Seeing you and that young buck pretending you don’t have the hots for each other. Reminds me of me and the missus when were young and hot to trot.”
Clestie almost swallowed her tongue as her cheeks blazed. She couldn’t help but glance over at Leo and found him sneaking a glance at her.
The man chuckled. “Yep. Just like I said. If I were younger, I’d fight him for you.” He patted the bald spot on his shiny head and then his rotund stomach pushing out his black leather biker’s jacket. “But I done lost all my handsome hair and put on a few pounds. I blame all them donuts the missus makes me buy.”
Clestie leaned forward and planted a kiss on Mr. Borsh’s weathered cheek. His thick white whiskers scratched her lips and she smiled at the tickle. “You’re adorable. Don’t stop coming to visit us—ever.”
Mr. Borsh giggled and a cherry-red stain infused his pale cheeks. “If the missus don’t go locking me up for spending so much time here.”
“Bring her with you.” Clestie wondered what Mr. Borsh’s match would look like? Short and stout like a cute little set of salt and pepper shakers? Or tall and svelte, like the opposite of Jack Sprat and his wife?
He clucked his tongue. “If she ever wakes before noon. She stays up all night on that internet of hers playing spelling games online or chatting with her friends in Australia.”
Leo crooked his finger for her to return and then pointed at his watch as Deborah smoothed her linen skirt beneath her and folded herself into the chair across from him. The early morning sun danced in his hair and lent a golden sheen to his skin.
Her nerves zinged into overdrive and Clestie wished she could boot everybody out and lock the doors so she could ravish him. She counted the impossibly long hours until the end of the business day. She felt like pouring a glass of ice water over her head to keep from combusting every time she looked at, thought about, or touched Leo. Heck, maybe she should strap a fire extinguisher to her back.
“We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning then.” She wiggled her fingers in a ta-ta motion.
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Elizabeth stuffed the rest of her powdered donut into her mouth. Through a mouthful of the goo, she yelled as she jumped up from her chair and waved her sign. “Wait! If you’re a Leo, you get a free donut for your birthday.”
Clestie’s forehead furrowed and she mouthed from behind Mr. Borsh, “What are you doing?”
Mr. Borsh stroked his bushy beard and meandered closer. He jerked a thumb behind him at Leo. “Leo there been talking out of turn?”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “He wouldn’t tell me your private business. I’m just asking everybody. Now, if you’re a Leo and you want a donut, I’ll need to see proof of your birthday.”
Mr. Borsch peered down his nose at her but dug in his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flashed his license and pointed at the date. “Lookie there. See, I was born August second, nineteen hundred and…never mind.”
Elizabeth coyly batted her lashes. “I saw nothing.” She held the donut box up under his nose.
The birthday boy prodded around and finally grabbed a cream-filled pastry. “The missus never buys this type. Says they’ll clog my arteries.” He harrumphed. “All donuts clog arteries. While she’s on that internet of hers, she should look up dieting and health instead of yakking all the night long while her muscles atrophy from disuse.”
Elizabeth waggled her white sugary fingers. “See you tomorrow!”
When the door closed firmly behind Mr. Borsh, Clestie hissed, “What’s all this?”
“Bait. I’m taking inventory of our clients. I’ll bet you at least ninety percent are Leos.”
“That’s crazy!”
Elizabeth tapped the end of her fountain pen on her tick sheet. “You’ll see. I’m keeping track. Something fishy’s going on.”
Clestie darted sidelong glances around the room. “Keep me informed.”
Aware that Leo watched her every move, Clestie sashayed back to her chair and sat across from their client. She did her best to focus on Deborah and admonished her nerves to stop zipping and zapping about every time Leo made the smallest twitch. All he had to do was breathe to get her excited all over again. What if she was sitting next to a bona fide god?
Deborah unfolded her astrological reading and held it out to Clestie. “I don’t understand. This doesn’t seem to fit my situation. I’d like clarification.”
Clestie accepted the papers and looked from them to her client. “Any
section in particular?” The reading was several pages thick and she only vaguely recalled the gist.
Small creases dented Deborah’s forehead, ruining her flawlessly made-up face. She leaned over and tapped the pages with a finger. “The section about my career. I’ve turned down the corner of the page.”
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Clestie flipped the pages and skimmed the verbiage. Then she read it aloud for Leo’s benefit. “You may find yourself in an environment that demands an extreme effort, possibly pushing you to your limits. Unfortunately, the drive to produce high volume may be detrimental to the quality of your work. Take a careful look and refuse to let yourself be guilted into doing too much. Your health may be at risk. Don’t sacrifice quality for quantity.”
In general, the advice sounded solid, so Clestie tried to read between the lines. That advice could apply to her as well.
Leo leaned back in his chair and regarded Deborah at length. Finally he sat up straight and folded his hands atop the table. Like a psychologist, he asked, “What do you make of it?”
Deborah sighed and swiped at an imaginary stray hair even though she had a perfectly coiled chignon. “It sounds like it came out of someone else’s fortune cookie.” She leaned forward and her eyes darkened. “I’m up for a very big promotion. I have to show that I can put in the hours and hard work. I have to produce now more than ever if I want a shot. I can’t pull back, and that’s what this,” she angrily batted the pages as fire flashed from her normally placid eyes, “seems to be telling me to do.”
Leo frowned and looked at Clestie. “Please read it aloud again for me.” He leaned back in his chair and linked his hands behind his head. Staring sightlessly at the ceiling, he listened intently as Clestie did so. When she’d finished, he pursed his lips for several moments. Finally, he said in a reverberating voice, “’Tis quite clear. You are going after something that is not to your benefit and is most probably to your detriment, however much you may desire it. Should you stay in pursuit, you risk your health.”
Deborah paled and her hands clenched. She glared long and hard at Leo. After several pregnant moments, she massaged her neck and asked, “How can you be sure? Maybe this just means I shouldn’t exercise so hard, that I should cut out my night classes. Maybe I should put that time toward work.”
Leo bristled and brought his chair down with a resounding bang. “It speaks of work and quality of work. I strongly advise against working harder. ‘Tis time to let go and pull back.”
Deborah scraped her chair back and stood suddenly, her breath coming in short, violent gasps. “Excuse me if I don’t agree. My career is everything to me. I’ve worked my fingers to the bone to get this chance and I’m not going to blow it now.”
Leo stood and Clestie wanted to pull him down, but she remained seated. She also wanted to know how Leo could be so sure. “I am merely interpreting the chart…”
“Perhaps your analysis is off.” Deborah slung her purse over her shoulder and clutched the straps. “We will have to agree to disagree.”
Leo bowed even as his forehead puckered. “I do not offer this advice lightly. I am here to help you, and this is a clear and precise warning.”
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Clestie’s heart thudded. This was getting out of hand. She stood and smiled at the pair facing off. “Leo, may I have a word with you? In private, please.” She glanced at their client. “Will you excuse us for a sec?”
Deborah checked her watch and frowned. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for work.”
Clestie stepped forward and shook the woman’s hand. “Please accept our apologies. There’s no fee for today.”
Deborah nodded and marched out with her head held high.
Leo turned on Clestie and raked his fingers through his hair. Anger flashed in his topaz eyes. His voice boomed out, “Why did you undermine me? Now she will not take my advice seriously.”
The hairs on the back of Clestie’s neck stood on end as she angrily fisted her hands on her hips. “Maybe if you remembered that it’s only advice, there wouldn’t be a problem. Instead, you act like your word is law, like you prophesy the god’s honest truth.”
Thunder flashed in his eyes and he swept his hair away from his face with a grand gesture. His voice reverberated through the tiny shop as if it boomed down from Mt. Olympus. “I am a god!”
Brimming over with frustrated fury, Clestie jabbed her finger into Leo’s chest and poked him until he backed against the wall. “Well, that’s the problem. You’re being a big obnoxious bully. Even if you are the real Leo, give us mere imperfect little mortals some breathing space, a little room to run our own lives. We’ve been doing pretty well these past few thousand years since you left.”
Leo snorted and his nostrils flared. The skies darkened outside, the light filtering through the windows dimmed and the shop grew eerier than usual. Lightning flashed and thunder shook the ground so fiercely that the jars rattled and clinked as they skipped toward the lip of their shelves. “You call your civilization good? Open your pretty little eyes and look around.” He swept his arms far and wide. “You’ve polluted your world. You’re cynical, sarcastic and exhausted from overwork because of the pursuit of success. You worship the almighty dollar instead of the higher deities. You don’t believe in yourselves, yet you don’t believe in the gods so you’re floundering.”
Clestie digested his harsh words, but couldn’t deny the ring of truth. Still, all his wisdom and conceit didn’t make him an almighty, know-it-all being. “Okay, so we’re not perfect like you.” She took her turn to harrumph and took another step closer. “You’re so perfect that you were sleeping on the beach using a rock for a pillow. We should all be so perfect.”
Some of the fury seemed to ooze out of him as his shoulders drooped and his voice lost its furious edge. “I already explained, I made a serious error and Zeus is punishing me…”
“Gods can make mistakes? I thought you were perfect?”
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A self-deprecating chuckle escaped his lips and he tucked his hair behind his ears. Simultaneously, the black clouds rolled back from the skies so that the sun burned bright and clear overhead, illuminating the shop with a rainbow of brilliant colors. “No one ever called Zeus perfect—behind his back.”
The skies clouded again and a lightning bolt came through the ceiling and exploded at Leo’s feet.
Frightened, her heart banging so furiously it felt as though it was about to burst, Clestie jumped back and fell into the crowd huddled behind her as if she could save them from the immortals. Then she slid onto her derriere.
Several people helped her to her feet, shaky as she still was. Many others gaped open-mouthed.
Leo stomped out the fire and then shook his fist in the air. “Well, it’s true, Father, and you know it.” Then he swaggered over to Clestie, examined her closely, and dusted her off. “Well, do you believe me now?”
Clestie swallowed hard and stared at the tendrils of smoke still rising from the charred floor. “It’s all true, isn’t it? Everything you’ve told us.”
Leo flung his hands high in the air and stomped off, muttering, “Finally!”
The next person in the long, ragged line gasped and ran after Leo pleading, “I believe in you, too. Don’t desert us. We need you.”
Reeling from the realization, Clestie staggered to the front door and whispered to her cousin, “I need some fresh air. You’re in charge.”
Elizabeth jumped off her stool and raced to the door. “You can’t go out there with all that lightning! Florida’s the deadliest place in the world for lethal lightning strikes.”
Clestie turned and pointed to the evidence of the inside strike. “One, Florida’s only the second place now, and two, I’m not any safer inside than out.” Oh god, she’d been pissing off the head god. Was there anyplace safe to hide?
She feared not in this universe or the next.
She grabbed one of Elizabeth’s donuts and stuffed it
in her mouth. Through the food she muttered, “Don’t choke on all the testosterone flying around in here. Don’t let him bully you too much.”
As she tried to push past the crowd largely comprised of tae kwon do students from the studio next door, her way was blocked by a giant, horribly stinky camel. The creature ambled clumsily forward and as if not seeing her or not caring that she blocked its path, pushed her back inside, then sneezed wetly in her face.
Disgusted, Clestie blinked and recoiled. She swiped the snot off and wiped her hands down the length of her jeans. “What’s going on now?”
Karly stepped around the animal and wrapped several lengths of its leather leash tighter around her hand. She crowded their way inside the shop, forcing Clestie to back up. “Where’s Leo?”
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Clestie’s blood boiled and she screamed to her cousin, “Call the cops.” To the lunatic woman, she said breathlessly, “You can’t bring that animal in here.” Curiosity made her add, “Where’d you get it?”
Several kids dressed in their tae kwon do uniforms trailed in behind the camel and circled around. They patted its face and touched its hump with awe on their faces. One little guy exclaimed, “Awesome!”
Karly chortled and led the huffing, snorting humpbacked steed into the center of the store and motioned the children to stay back. Then she narrowed her gaze on Clestie. “From where do you think? The zoo.” The woman snorted. “Like camels roam around the streets of Fort Lauderdale.”
Elizabeth approached warily, staying a good foot behind Clestie. “Why did you steal the camel?”
Karly treated them to a haughty, deadly glare. “I borrowed Pamela here. That’s if she wants to go back to that stuffy, smelly confinement.”
Pamela? Was that the creature’s real name? She didn’t look like a Pamela.
Clestie echoed, “Why?” Under her breath, through clenched teeth, she muttered in an aside to her cousin, “Get Leo.”
