Page 89 of Charmed Forces
“I like ‘carpet’,” I said.
“See! No one ever says things like that at a party,” said Lily, pleased with her suggestion.
We were in a black town car with tinted windows. I had no idea where it came from because I hadn’t seen anything like it in the agency’s garage, but Solomon had a knack for procuring things that we needed. I was sure the license wouldn’t be traced to the agency if anyone decided to check all the vehicles in the vicinity of Tom Victor’s house; plus, it was reassuring to know they would be nearby. Despite my calm exterior, my hands were clammy. I had no idea what could happen. But whatever unfolded, with Solomon and Delgado as backup, I was reasonably sure neither Lily nor I would end up buried in the foundation of Tom Victor’s latest development.
Delgado stepped out of the car and opened the rear door as if he were our chauffeur. We also got out and walked over to the front door.
Tom Victor’s house was a palatial, modern structure, all plate glass walls and sharp edges, that rose above tall, walnut-stained, double-slatted fence panels. There was a pair of double gates at either end, purposefully designed for entry at one end and exit at the other end of the carriage driveway. A single gate was situated in the middle. All three had cameras and a box that required a code to be input before opening. Sounds of music and laughter drifted towards us.
“Fancy,” said Lily.
“Fort Knox,” I said. As I raised my hand to press the gate buzzer, the gate suddenly swung open, revealing a massive chest in a black polo shirt. I looked up, then a bit higher at the tallest, broadest man I think I’ve ever seen. He looked like a WWF wrestler with a curiously perfect set of white teeth.
He raised a clipboard and asked, “Names?”
“Lily and Lexi,” said Lily.
“Found you. No surnames?” he asked.
“Would you ask Madonna that?” asked Lily.
“Who?”
She frowned. “Zendaya?”
When he shook his head, she said, “Never mind, but please search for them online. It’s important to know your pop culture.”
“Noted,” he said. “Head directly through the house; the party’s on the patio.”
“Thank you,” I said, grabbing Lily’s hand and yanking her towards the house. “Pop culture?” I asked.
“He didn’t even know Madonna!” she gasped, “and The Greatest Showman is going to blow his mind. Zendaya is sheer perfection. I didn’t want to risk trying Cher. Imagine anyone not knowing who Cher is!”
As soon as we stepped into the entryway, a bow-tied server handed us champagne flutes and directed us towards the back patio. We walked slowly, taking a cautious glance into each room as we passed it. The living room was large and spartan, with a trio of leather couches set around a marble coffee table. I suspected the framed piece of modern art above the marble mantel was one of those fancy, concealed TVs. Occasional tables supported lamps, and one had a stack of glossy books that I suspected were never read. The room on the other side of the entry had a grand piano and a chaise lounge.
“This is seriously fancy,” said Lily. “My parents would love it. Do you think they’ll give us a tour?”
“Maybe,” I said, “We can ask, but only once.”
Although I’d seen the layout, the real version always looked different from the schematics. As we walked through the first floor in the direction of the music, we passed a smaller living room all done up in whites and creams, a powder room, then an office that seemed to double as a library. The whole back wall was a substantial bookshelf filled with books, and in front of that was a desk facing the door. An expensive-looking leather chair was behind it and two tub chairs in front. The desk had a leather blotter on it and nothing else. No monitor and keyboard, no laptop, no notepads. As we paused, a man stepped out of the room with a box of cigars under his arm and closed the door. “May I help you ladies?” he asked as he adjusted the collar of his shirt. He wore a smart suit, and his black-rimmed glasses made him look a little older than the late twenties I guessed he was.
“Is the back patio straight ahead?” I asked, feigning disinterest in the office.
“I’ll escort you there,” he said, indicating we should proceed first. “Are you friends of the couple, or Angelica?”
“Both,” said Lily. “What a beautiful house for a party.”
“Indeed,” agreed the man.
“Are you friends with the owner?” Lily asked pleasantly.
“He’s my boss,” said the man. He motioned to the cigar box. “It’s not often he asks for the cigars.”
“Then itisa celebration,” I agreed. “I noticed all the books in the office. Are they fiction? Angelica mentioned something about lending me a good book to read.”
“Oh, that’s not the right office. That office is upstairs. Mr. Victor just keeps that room for meetings. I’m not sure he’s read all of the books there but he lets me read some. They’re really old classics, however, I don’t think he loans them out,” he added diplomatically.
“Cool,” I said as we moved into a room that spanned the entire back of the house. To the left of us was a huge L-shaped sofa facing an enormous TV next to a large fireplace. On the other side of the room was an eat-in kitchen full of sleek cream panels and thick wood countertops. Leather stools were positioned around the kitchen island. Servers entered through a door at the far end, bearing large platters of food that they placed on the long table that separated the den and the kitchen. All the chairs had been removed but I guessed twenty people could be seated around it comfortably.