What's A Ghoul To Do? Part 4

Gilley shook his head back and forth. I could tell he was struggling with his patience. "You can't have it both ways, my friend," he finally said.

"I'm sorry?" I asked.

"You cannot do what you do and expect that there is only one way you're going to get the job done. If we turn down everyone but the ones who fit specific criteria, then we'll go bankrupt."

"I didn't realize we were doing so poorly," I snapped.

"That's because I do the books. You won't allow me to book readings anymore, which quite frankly was keeping us solidly in the black. M.J., you've got to be willing to compromise. Running your own business is tough enough, and may I remind you that we live in one of the most expensive cities in the country?"

I didn't reply, but simply glared at him. Apparently today was Lecture M.J. Day.

Gilley ignored the glare and continued. "Now, I want you to think about what I've said. And you think hard, because if you want me to continue in this partners.h.i.+p then you're going to have to be willing to make some allowances for our clients."

"So it's come to that?" I asked, shocked that Gilley was playing hardball.

"It's come to that," Gil said, and stood up. "I'm headed to a meeting with another group of Realtors. Doc's been fed and watered. I'll call you later and we can discuss options for your date on Sat.u.r.day, and by options I mean get your MasterCard out, because there is nothing even remotely suitable hanging in that closet of yours."

"Gil-" I started, wanting to say something that would make things all right between us.

"Go home and think about what I've said," Gil said, cutting me off. And with a quick kiss on the top of my head he was off.

I sat there in Mama Dell's for a little while, wondering why the whole world wanted to pick on me, then decided to shake myself out of my funk by taking a walk. With a wave to Mama Dell, I headed out the door and began to walk the few blocks that make up Arlington Center.

I gazed without looking into storefronts made up of quaint boutiques and gift shops as my thoughts looped around the conversations I'd had that morning. First with Dr. Sable, then with Teeko, and finally with Gilley. I think I was most upset by Gilley's ultimatum-not that I could blame him.

It also sucked that I knew he was right on the money. If Gil left, I'd be totally screwed-the man even balanced my checkbook. What was I going to do without him?

As my thoughts continued to swirl I looked up at the storefront I was pa.s.sing and stopped short. There, in the window, was a gorgeous black c.o.c.ktail dress. I snickered to myself, because it was so obvious the universe had set me up, then took a big breath and walked inside. I was met by a pleasantly plump young woman who couldn't have been a day over nineteen.

"Hi!" she said enthusiastically.

"Good afternoon," I replied.

"Need some help?"

"I saw that dress in the window," I said, pointing behind me. "Can I try it on?"

"Sure! What are you, about a size four?"

"About that," I said, thanking myself for my daily run and a healthy metabolism.

"The dress runs small, so I'll bring you a six just in case."

Gee, just when I was riding a sizing high. "Great. Where do I go... ?" I asked, turning my head around the small boutique.

"Right over there," she said, pointing to a curtained room off to my left.

Three minutes later I was staring at myself in the mirror and thinking that I must definitely be crazy. The dress was way too short. Okay, so it was also way too low. This was a dress Teeko would wear in a heartbeat, but did it really suit me? Just then there was a knock on the outside of the dressing room. "How's it going in there?"

"Uh ..." I said as I scowled at the mirror.

Without warning the curtain was pulled aside and the salesclerk poked her head in. "OhmiG.o.d! You are totally smokin' in that dress!" she squealed.

I winced at the pitch in her voice. "You don't think it's too short?"

"No way, you have great legs."

"Too low?"

"For you or a nun?" she asked. Ah, a clever nineteen-year-old.

"I'm serious," I said, hiking up the neckline.

"So am I," she said, stepping forward to gently tug the neckline back down. "Honest, you look amazing. Did you know you could be Sandra Bullocks's sister?"

I get that all the time, and while I love Sandy and think she's a brilliant actress, after so many years of being remembered as the chick who looks just like her, I was wis.h.i.+ng my face were a little less familiar. "So I've been told," I said, turning around to view my rear. "Does my b.u.t.t look big?"

"No," she said with a giggle. "And even if it did, guys are into big b.u.t.ts. You've so so gotta buy this dress!" gotta buy this dress!"

"Gilley would be proud," I said quietly as I turned back and tried to square my shoulders so it would appear I was someone confident enough to wear this type of thing every day.

"Who?"

"No one." I sighed. "Okay, I'll take it, but just in case, what's your return policy?"

Later that night, while Gilley cooked dinner at my place, I modeled the dress for him. I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. "Dial nine-one-one!" he shouted.

"What?" I asked, alarmed.

"Emergency?" he said, putting an imaginary phone to his ear. "Come quick! We've got a woman on fire on fire over here!" over here!"

"I knew it," I said, heading back into the bedroom. "I'm returning it in the morning."

I heard quick footsteps behind me, and just as I was about to turn around I heard a snipping sound.

"Hey!" I yelled, whirling around to catch Gilley, scissors in one hand and sales tag in the other. "Gil, what are you doing?"

"You return that dress and I will personally spank you," he said with a grin.

"It's not me!" I complained, reaching for the zipper. "I don't even know why I bought it."

"Because for the first time in forever you had a clear thought?" Gilley said. "M.J., you have been a little old lady since you were six. Isn't it time you kicked your heels up and have a little fun already?"

"Okay," I said from my bedroom as I pulled the dress over the top of my head and shrugged back into my sweats. "So riddle me this: What if I meet this guy and I hate him? Then I will have just spent a fortune on a dress I'm never going to wear again."

There was an audible sigh from the hallway. "Don't you get that it's not about this one date?" Gil asked me.

"What do you mean?" I said, coming out of the bedroom.

"That dress is about you getting out of your comfort zone, which is what I've been trying to tell you to do for... like, ever."

"Ah," I said, pouring myself a gla.s.s of wine. "So why is it so important I come out of said comfort zone? I mean, I happen to like my zone."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you like to play it so safe all the time?"

I thought about that for a long, long moment. Finally I said, "Because it keeps things simple. All these years I've been happy hanging out with you and putting my energy into our business."

"Not buying it, M.J.," Gil said to me. "What I think is that you've been so afraid to reveal the real you-the one that, sure, talks to dead people-that you've locked yourself away from any chance of love. Your approach since high school, has been, 'I'm going to get rejected anyway, so why try?'"

"And if you'll remember high school, it was no picnic for either of us."

Gil beamed at me. "The thing is, sweetie, that we're no longer in in high school. Grown-ups are usually a lot more open to and tolerant of folks like us." high school. Grown-ups are usually a lot more open to and tolerant of folks like us."

I smiled at him. "Folks like us?"

"Quirky," he said, walking over to the stove to stir the plum sauce he was cooking.

"How did I end up such a mess, Gil?" I asked him.

"Well, it wasn't for lack of me trying to get you to do something different."

I looked at him just as Doc squawked, "Dr. Delicious!"

"I've been thinking about what you said to me this morning," I said thoughtfully.

"I can tell," he said, pointing to my bedroom, where I'd left the dress. "You've been soul-searching."

I smiled. "I guess I have. Anyway, I think you're right. Maybe I have been a little too rigid. Any chance you can call Dr. Sable and ask him for another interview?"

"I left him a voice mail this afternoon," Gilley said with a grin as he pulled a pork roast from the oven. "And by the way-tomorrow we are going shoe shopping, because you cannot wear Birkenstocks with that dress."

The next evening I decided to walk the four blocks to Tango's, an Argentinean steakhouse that was a particular favorite of mine. By the time I was a block and a half into it I really wished I'd driven my car, because my feet were killing me in the three-inch heels Gilley had forced me to buy. And the skintight wowser of a dress kept riding up every time I took more than four steps.

By the time I reached the front of Tango's I had decided to splurge on a cab home. Walking into the restaurant I shook my head, allowing the many curls Gilley had put in my hair tonight to fluff out a little more, and unb.u.t.toned my coat. I was met by the host, who gave me one look and put his hand to his heart, "Senorita! "Senorita! You are breathtaking! May I give you a table in the window to attract all the men in town tonight?" You are breathtaking! May I give you a table in the window to attract all the men in town tonight?"

I giggled and gave my hair another flip. "h.e.l.lo, Estevan. I'm actually meeting someone here, so I'll sit wherever you've put him," I said, nonchalantly scanning the restaurant.

"And who are you meeting?" Estevan asked.

"Uh ..." I said, suddenly realizing I didn't even know my date's name. "You know, that's a good question. I'm on one of Mama Dell's dinners. Is there a single gentleman here waiting on someone from Mama's?"

"Why, yes, there is!" Estevan said, looking at his seating chart. "I just escorted a man to a table a few minutes ago, and he is waiting on his perfect match from Mama Dell's."

I was already annoyed. "I'm not so sure we're a perfect match," I said quickly. "Actually, this is our first date."

"I see," Estevan said as he took my coat. "Well, after he sees how beautiful you look tonight he may consider you such, no?"

"Let's hope not," I said as my stomach bunched. I hated men who moved too quickly.

"Right this way," Estevan said as he led me toward a dark section. As we approached a table I clenched my teeth to hide my disappointment. The man seated at the table had a receding hairline, large ears, and fishy-looking lips. His torso was thin, along with his shoulders, and his eyes had a nervous cast to them. He was dressed in a brilliant green suede jacket, white turtleneck, and black pants. It suited him-he'd make a good turtle.

As we approached he looked at me and his mouth hung open. I forced a plastic smile to my lips while inwardly vowing to boycott Mama Dell's forever. Estevan stopped in front of the table and said, "Senor, "Senor, your guest has arrived." your guest has arrived."

"Whoa," Turtle said, looking up at me.

Still smiling tightly, I stuck out my hand and said, "h.e.l.lo, I'm M.J. I'm pleased to meet you."

"Whoa," Turtle said again.

Estevan pulled out my chair and I sat down, wondering how I was going to get through the evening with Chatty Cathy here. "I love your jacket," I tried.

"Whoa."

I nodded my head. "Yeah, you said that a few times now," I said as I snapped my napkin and smoothed it onto my lap.

Turtle gulped audibly.

I held in a sigh and went for small talk. "I was expecting someone in black. I mean, Mama Dell said that you would be dressed in black."

Turtle ogled me silently, his eyes crawling from my chest up to about my neck, then back again. I eyed the breadbasket and thought about tossing a roll at his pointy head to get his attention back to my face. "Anyway," I said, dipping my chin to try to meet his gaze, "like I said, my name is M.J."

Turtle gave my eyes a quick glance, then headed south again to rest on my decolletage.

"And you are?" I said through gritted teeth. I was two seconds away from pulling back my chair and running for it.

"Too overcome by your beauty to speak," a deep baritone said over my left shoulder.

I turned in my chair to see Steven Sable grinning at me. I also noticed he was wearing black pants, a black silk s.h.i.+rt, and a black blazer. Gil and my bird were right: He was most definitely delicious. "h.e.l.lo," I said, looking back and forth between Turtle and Steven.

"Are you here to meet the man from Mama Dell's?" he asked me, the mischievous grin never leaving his features.

"You 're my date?" I asked, standing quickly, a huge sense of relief flooding through me as I realized I didn't have to spend one more second with Whoa Turtle. my date?" I asked, standing quickly, a huge sense of relief flooding through me as I realized I didn't have to spend one more second with Whoa Turtle.

"Yes," Steven said. "And I believe this is his," he added, indicating a woman behind him with a blond pageboy and a dark green blouse.

Turtle looked from me to the blonde and said to Steven, "That's okay; I like this girl better."

The blonde looked insulted, so I wasted no time. Grabbing the woman by the arm before she had a chance to run, I said, "Ha! He is such such a funny guy! Boy, are you going to have a good time tonight or what? Now sit yourself right down here, honey-see that? I've already wanned it up for you. Okay, you two make some magic together, and remember, the wine here is fabulous! I suggest a bottle ... each." And with that I grabbed Steven's hand and pulled him back over to Estevan. a funny guy! Boy, are you going to have a good time tonight or what? Now sit yourself right down here, honey-see that? I've already wanned it up for you. Okay, you two make some magic together, and remember, the wine here is fabulous! I suggest a bottle ... each." And with that I grabbed Steven's hand and pulled him back over to Estevan.

"Senorita, I am most sorry. I did not realize Mama sent me two couples for dinner tonight." I am most sorry. I did not realize Mama sent me two couples for dinner tonight."