18-04-2019, 11:27 AM
Contessa Helena de San Finzione sat on one of the couches and beckoned us over. She was on the phone with Maria, speaking Italian. I knew this not just because she said Maria's name, but because as of yesterday, I know the language myself. Something Suzy-Q brought back from one of her trips to Helen's Subconscious. I mouthed a "Hi, Maria" as we sat and did the math in my head. One in the afternoon in Seattle would be ten o'clock at night in San Finzione. Helen told her that we were here, Maria said hi back, and they ended the call.
"Everyone ok?" I asked her.
"Yeah. The Triads are boarding up their windows in San Finzione, and I'm going to have to convince a movie studio to come film a summer blockbuster in the city."
"Or buy one." Julie replied. Helen's eyes lit up at that. She picked up her phone again and held it in the way she does when she's about to leave a voice memo to Jeanne. From Helen's tone and what I could guess of the French by what I know in Italian, it seemed she was asking Jeanne to see if any movie studios were for sale. (I also understand why Julie was so confused last night, as she searched her head for French words to approximate the Italian ones that I was saying and deduce the meaning.) She ended the memo and lit a new cigarette. I looked in the ash tray and saw she'd had more than a few while waiting for us.
"Called Whyte, he's leaking the video of me in the warehouse where all this started, commanding those goons around. It'll hit the evening news."
"Can't you deny it?" Julie asked. "Say it's not you on the tape?"
"Oh no," Helen replied. "He hasn't shown it to me, but I commanded them to carve things into each other's foreheads, and one guy got his own cattle prod up the ass; he wouldn't have anything to show the media if it wasn't good."
"So, are you saying it's time to start packing up the house for San Finzione?" I asked.
Helen gave a worried smile, as if she wanted to say "maybe," but was looking for a spin to put on it.
"That offer's not just for emergencies, you know." Helen replied, having found one. "Just, any time you're bored with the country whose very name is a bigger punchline than mine on Rita's show."
"Oh, Claire texted," Julie said, giving Helen her out. "She said she'd forgotten to compliment you on your response to the 'grab 'em by the pussy' thing."
I remembered her response, but let them steer the conversation. I picked up that the "pack up and move" discussion wasn't one either wanted to have right now, and let them make their way back to Helen's problem.
"Thanks, but I'll grab my own. I have more faith that MY dainty little lady-hands are up to the job than yours?"
"Yeah. She asked if you'd leave it as a voice mail before you go. And speaking of going, what're we going to do about this?"
"And why," I asked. "Does it involve us dressing like we're bored with our suburban lives and are going out shoplifting to get some kind of thrill?"
Helen turned to Julie.
"You explained the shoe thing, right?"
"On the way here." Julie responded.
"Ok, good." Helen nodded to her, then turned back to me. "I have to bury the story. We can't go to every news station in town, seeing if anyone's gotten an anonymous video of me. I have to give them something that'll make them forget all about it. I need to make a big, extravagant splash. I asked you two to dress like that for the same reason I'm going to have to ask Mander to hang back. There will be cameras. Paparazzi intervention was inevitable. And, as it happens, necessary. I just need to think of someone I know locally..." She took another drag, her eyes widened.
"Everyone ok?" I asked her.
"Yeah. The Triads are boarding up their windows in San Finzione, and I'm going to have to convince a movie studio to come film a summer blockbuster in the city."
"Or buy one." Julie replied. Helen's eyes lit up at that. She picked up her phone again and held it in the way she does when she's about to leave a voice memo to Jeanne. From Helen's tone and what I could guess of the French by what I know in Italian, it seemed she was asking Jeanne to see if any movie studios were for sale. (I also understand why Julie was so confused last night, as she searched her head for French words to approximate the Italian ones that I was saying and deduce the meaning.) She ended the memo and lit a new cigarette. I looked in the ash tray and saw she'd had more than a few while waiting for us.
"Called Whyte, he's leaking the video of me in the warehouse where all this started, commanding those goons around. It'll hit the evening news."
"Can't you deny it?" Julie asked. "Say it's not you on the tape?"
"Oh no," Helen replied. "He hasn't shown it to me, but I commanded them to carve things into each other's foreheads, and one guy got his own cattle prod up the ass; he wouldn't have anything to show the media if it wasn't good."
"So, are you saying it's time to start packing up the house for San Finzione?" I asked.
Helen gave a worried smile, as if she wanted to say "maybe," but was looking for a spin to put on it.
"That offer's not just for emergencies, you know." Helen replied, having found one. "Just, any time you're bored with the country whose very name is a bigger punchline than mine on Rita's show."
"Oh, Claire texted," Julie said, giving Helen her out. "She said she'd forgotten to compliment you on your response to the 'grab 'em by the pussy' thing."
I remembered her response, but let them steer the conversation. I picked up that the "pack up and move" discussion wasn't one either wanted to have right now, and let them make their way back to Helen's problem.
"Thanks, but I'll grab my own. I have more faith that MY dainty little lady-hands are up to the job than yours?"
"Yeah. She asked if you'd leave it as a voice mail before you go. And speaking of going, what're we going to do about this?"
"And why," I asked. "Does it involve us dressing like we're bored with our suburban lives and are going out shoplifting to get some kind of thrill?"
Helen turned to Julie.
"You explained the shoe thing, right?"
"On the way here." Julie responded.
"Ok, good." Helen nodded to her, then turned back to me. "I have to bury the story. We can't go to every news station in town, seeing if anyone's gotten an anonymous video of me. I have to give them something that'll make them forget all about it. I need to make a big, extravagant splash. I asked you two to dress like that for the same reason I'm going to have to ask Mander to hang back. There will be cameras. Paparazzi intervention was inevitable. And, as it happens, necessary. I just need to think of someone I know locally..." She took another drag, her eyes widened.
Like, Comment and Give Rating.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)