Harriet grimaced. “Max, you’re not paying attention. We’re talking about the kind of work we want to do when we grow up. A job that is aligned with your greatest passion.”
“But I’m already grown up,” said Max, “and so are you, Harriet. And since we’re cats and not humans we don’t need a job. We have humans looking after us, and providing us with food and shelter and love and affection. The only job I see myself conceivably getting passionate about is helping Odelia solve the occasional mystery, which I already do now. But apart from that I don’t have a job, I don’t need a job, and I don’t want a job.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Max,” said Harriet, making a face. “I thought you were a cat who was going places, like me and Brutus. But instead you’re simply another deadbeat. Shame on you.” She now turned to Dooley. “What about you, Dooley? And don’t tell me your ambition in life is to eat, too.”
“Oh, no,” said Dooley. “I also like to drink. It’s very important to stay hydrated. And sleep, of course. It’s very important to get plenty of rest.”
“Oh, Dooley,”’ said Harriet with a shake of the head. “Looks like you’ve got two deadbeats on your team, Odelia. I’d say cut them loose and replace them with cats that show some spunk. A sense of initiative. But I know what you’re going to say: you can’t simply kick out Max and Dooley. And you’re probably right, from a charitable point of view, but at least try to talk some sense into them. Try to make them see that there’s more to life than eating, sleeping and drinking, will you? Because frankly it’s frustrating for two ambitious cats like myself and Brutus to have to deal with this nonsense.”
And after this long harangue, she lapsed into silence, causing Odelia to smile before herself and wisely keep her tongue.
Chapter 16
“How much longer is it, Jer?”
Jerry checked his watch. “Well, the party starts at nine. The show starts with a performance by some unknown local artists, and The Dieber and Jamie Borowiak are scheduled to perform at eleven, so that’s when we’re going to hit their rooms.”
“Are you sure the coast will be clear? What about security?”
“I told you a hundred times already—security will be downstairs, protecting the stars, not their rooms.”
“And how do you know all this, Jer?” asked Johnny, looking slightly mollified.
“Let’s just say a little birdie told me. And that same little birdie also told me we can expect a very nice haul. A very nice haul indeed,” he added with a wide grin.
“I’ll bet that little birdie wants a cut of that haul, though, right?”
“Little birdies always want a cut of the haul, Johnny. You know that.”
Johnny was shaking his head again, looking anxious. “I have a bad feeling about this, Jer. And the last time I had a bad feeling about a job and we went ahead and did it anyway, I almost got shot and we both spent the rest of the month in the slammer.”
“You won’t spend a minute in the slammer this time,” said Jerry, patting his friend on the back. “I’ve got it all worked out. There isn’t a contingency I haven’t considered, and no risk that I haven’t eradicated. This is the most lucrative, easiest job we’ll ever pull, buddy. Just you wait and see.”
“I don’t know, Jer,” said Johnny, looking particularly dubious.
“Well, I do, so just trust me and get ready to rake in the dough.”
Jerry settled back as he thought about this dough they were about to rake in. It wasn’t every day they were hitting several multi-millionaires in one go. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. Walk in, collect the loot, and walk out. Easy peasy. He smiled as he thought about it. This was going to be the most laid-back job they’d ever pulled!
He thought about his ex-wife Marlene. If he offered her a couple of diamond rings, a few necklaces, and one or two priceless bracelets, she might consider taking him back. And it was with a head filled with roseate hopes and dreams that he crossed his arms, dropped his chin on his chest, and dozed off.
When Tex arrived home, he was surprised by the terrible racket rising up from the basement. It almost sounded like… a party. In his own basement!
So he set foot on the first step, and quickly descended the stairs. Much to his surprise about half a dozen senior citizens of the male persuasion stood gathered around Vesta, shooting the breeze, glasses of what looked like bubbly in their hands.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, a frown on his brow. Vesta, who seemed to be the center of attention, greeted him by raising the glass of bubbly in her own hand.
“Great news, Tex,” she said. “I’ve been selected as a last-minute addition to the show.”
“Show? What show?”
“Some shindig for a couple of the Mayor’s buddies. Plenty of bigwigs and celebs.”
“You mean the Charlie Dieber thing? But I’m playing that—with my band.”
“I know. What a coincidence, huh? We’re sharing the stage. Marge will be so thrilled. She’s always going on and on about the two of us being buddies, and now we’ll be able to give her a show from the same stage.” She held up her finger. “Hey. I just got an idea. Why don’t we sing a duet, you and me? Our bands can join us, yours and mine.”
“But… you’re part of my band!”
“Not anymore I’m not. Didn’t you get the memo? I’m going solo—with my own band.” And she gestured to the elderly men, who all stood nodding enthusiastically. And since all of them were Tex’s patients he couldn’t even freak out in front of them.
“But, but, but…” he sputtered.
“All this singing I’ve done for your Singing Doctors have given me a taste for the stage. I’m the kind of woman who craves the limelight. I need to be center stage, not tucked away somewhere in the back going Ooh-wah doopee dooh. I’m a star, not a minion.”
“It was my idea actually, Tex,” said one of the men whom Tex recognized as Dick Bernstein. He was a distinguished-looking gentleman, with a full head of neatly coiffed white hair and a gorgeous little mustache. He was dressed, like the other pensioners, in a nice white tux. “Talent has to shine, and supreme talent must shine supremely.” He directed an affectionate look at Vesta, who patted his cheek appreciatively.
“Yeah, Vesta’s talent is so vast Dick told her to go solo,” added a second gentleman. This was Rock Horowitz, also one of Gran’s friends, and possibly an old boyfriend, too.
The others now all murmured their assent. “Vesta was made for the stage,” another older gentleman agreed. “She has the voice, the presence, the looks. She’s a born star.”
“He’s right, you know,” said Dick. “Vesta was born a star, and it’s a surprise to me why she waited this long to shine.”
“No hard feelings, Tex?” asked Vesta. “I’m sure you’ll find some other ninny to sing backing vocals for you. After all, anyone can be a backing vocalist. Not everyone can be the star of the show like me.”
“But… what are you going to sing?” asked Tex, still recovering from the shock.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry your little head about that,” said Vesta with a dismissive gesture of the hand. “You just focus on your stuff and I’ll focus on mine.”
“With all due respect, Vesta,” said Rock. “I think this idea of you and Tex performing a duet is a dud.”
“I agree,” said Dick, actually twirling his mustache. “A star like you needs to be discerning. I’m sorry to have to say this, Tex, but you and your singing doctors suck.”
“I didn’t want to say it, Tex, but Dick is right,” said Vesta. “You’re simply not good enough yet. Maybe you should practice a little more before you go on stage again.”
“Not everyone is a natural like Vesta,” Rock agreed.
“If you perform a duet now you’ll only drag her down,” said Dick.