Un2talented (Book 3 of the Un2 Series)

Knock, knock.

“Who’s there?” A small voice sang softly from behind the door.

“Cadence.”

“Cadence, who?” the small voice replied.

“Cadence, the girl that works at the front desk.”

“That’s not a very funny punch line. Try again.”

“C’mon, G, let me in!” Cadence sighed.

“Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!” G giggled.

“Please,” Cadence whined.

“My, my, very well then.”

The sound of a bicycle handlebar bell was immediately followed by the door popping ajar. It slowly creaked inward. Cadence pushed the door open and stepped inside. The scent of roses swirled around her.

The room, which at one time was the bridal suite, had been converted over to a full-time residence. Beyond the tiled entryway lay a sitting room filled with comfy, overstuffed furnishings. The walls were covered with framed photos and family keepsakes that made the room feel cozy, but not cluttered. Across from the doorway stood a tastefully carved oak mantel adorned with silver cups and platters. Most of the trophies were for marksmanship with the occasional “Best Pie” thrown in for variety’s sake. Tucked into the corner, next to the hearth, sat a well-worn, leather balloon chair. A grey and silver pelt had been used to reupholster the seat cushion. A bushy tail of the same fur draped across the hood of the chair. A diminutive white-haired woman wearing comically large glasses sat in her pink waitress uniform on the edge of the chair, ankle-deep in a steaming foot bath.

“This bastard sure was a mo-fo to take down but he sure is easy on the ass.” She wiggled and rubbed her hind end into the seat cushion. “Take that, you cur!”

“Do you kiss your granddaughter with that mouth?” Cadence gasped.

“I would if she’d shag her ass over here.”

Cadence crouched next to the chair and received a buss on the cheek.

“How was your shift, Granny? Anything interesting cooking at the diner?”

“There was a trio of young travelers a night or so ago. Nice boys. I sent them on their way with full tummies and wise words.”

“You always do!”

The grandfather’s clock chimed the first Westminster quarter.

“It’s fifteen past, aren’t you running a bit late, my dear?” Granny scolded, mildly.

“That’s why I’m here,” Cadence began. “Dory is going to take my shift so that I can go on an audition.”

“An audition, how grand! What show?”

“Well, it’s more of an interview than an audition. It’s at DeLeondia, that rockstar’s estate that has been turned into a celebration of all things DeLeon.”

“So, no show.” Granny sighed. “I was hoping to see you do your thing.”

Granny cupped her hands in front of her mouth and sputtered a horrendous interpretation of a beatbox, finishing with a hand motion meant to mimic a DJ scratching while saying “Wiki-wiki-wiki!”

Cadence burst out laughing. “You’re crazy!”

“Hells yeah! Word to your mutha!” Granny crossed her arms in front of her chest in an exaggerated fashion.

Cadence laughed so hard she snorted. Granny laughed at the snort. They both laughed together. Cadence collected herself.

“Dory wants to know if there is anything special you want him to handle today.”

Granny raised an eyebrow.

“Keep it clean!” Cadence cautioned.

“Have him put those nice, fluffy comforters we use during the winter months on the beds in room one-seventeen. Have him put a bottle of Bailey’s next to the coffee pot.”

“Comforters, Bailey’s, got it. Anything else?”

“There’s a doggie bag in the fridge that I brought back from the diner. Leave it alongside the Bailey’s.”

As Cadence retrieved the bag of scraps from the kitchen a floral swell washed across her. She was drawn to a small pot simmering on the stovetop.

“Whatcha cookin’?” She lowered her face to the bubbling potion and inhaled. The bouquet made her a little lightheaded.

“A little something I concocted. It’s a potpourri of sorts. Do you like it?” Granny asked.

“I sure do! It smells so comforting. It draws you in and makes you want to linger.”

“Perfect!” Granny replied.

Cadence managed to pull herself away from the intoxicating pot of bubbly goodness. “I better get going. I don’t want to keep the rockstar waiting!”

Cadence grabbed a bottle of liqueur from the cupboard and tucked the doggie bag under her arm. She bent over and kissed her grandmother goodbye, paused, then turned her head toward the kitchen and inhaled one last snootful of the intoxicating aroma. She took a couple of steps with the intent of leaving but found herself moving toward the kitchen.

“Granny snapped her fingers, “Yoo-hoo! The door is that away!” Granny pointed in the opposite direction.

Cadence reversed her steps as if being rewound. She pivoted and exited the suite, still distracted by the philter brewing on the stove.