Chase Banter [02] Marching to a Different Accordion by Saxon Bennett Page A

Shelby McCall and her snotty readers. Chase contemplated if disliking her wealthy persona was a bad thing. She’d have to run it by Dr. Robicheck. The dogs licked her face and she smiled, wondering what she would do without her family. She gathered up their Jolly balls and played a few rounds of fetch, soiling the cuffs of her blazer and getting dirty paw prints on her pristine white turtleneck with complete abandon. Book signings were stupid.
    Annie and Jane, tongues extended, finally gave up and went to lie under the juniper tree that Jane had personally trimmed so that all the lower branches had been removed. The juniper resembled a lone tree in the Kalahari.
    Chase went inside to change and lick her wounds. When Gitana and Bud came home from the orchid nursery they found her at the kitchen bar with three packs of Mentos unwrapped and grouped together in sets of three. She’d already consumed two packs. Bud sat down next to her and looked concerned.
    “It didn’t go well?” Gitana asked, rubbing her shoulders and kissing her cheek.
    “Complete debacle.” She related the whole horrid experience while continuing to suck on Mentos.
    Gitana gave Bud a pointed look that the child seemed to grasp immediately. “I think a shot of tequila is a good idea right now.” She pulled the bottle of Patrón from the kitchen cupboard.
    Before she could assent or decline, Bud had brushed the remaining Mentos into her small but able hands and made for the bathroom.
    “Hey, those are mine,” Chase said, as she heard the toilet flush.
    Gitana poured her a jigger with a slice of lime. “Drink this.”
    Chase did as she was told, grimacing but complying. The phone rang and Gitana picked up. “It’s Eliza.”
    Chase groaned.
    “Heard it didn’t go well.” Eliza’s voice crackled over the line.
    “Are we on speakerphone? You know I hate that. Who all is there with you?” Chase asked, envisioning a conference room full of disgusted people with I-told-you-so-looks on their faces.
    “Oh, lots of people.”
    “Great, an audience to my failure.” Chase heard the speakerphone click off.
    “Relax, it’s only Pepe and Peaches.” Those were Eliza’s chihuahuas, or “rats on ropes” as Chase referred to them. Donna told her that was not politically correct. “A dog should not be shorter than a cat and besides, I’ve met them. They were the meanest cusses on the planet,” Chase had responded. “Did they take the Mentos away from you?”
    “Bud flushed them down the toilet, but I did manage to get two packs down,” Chase replied.
    “Did Gitana get you a shot of tequila?”
    “Yes.” Obviously, these had been Eliza’s express orders to them. Chase could almost see the complicit smile on Eliza’s face.
    “I’ve got good troops. Tell Gitana to send another shipment of orchids—the most expensive ones available—and what does Bud want?”
    “She’s currently collecting dictionaries,” Chase told her, watching as Bud nodded furiously.
    “Consider it done. Now, I think Donna’s idea about joining the SUP group is a great idea. I’ll expect a progress report in, say, two weeks’ time.”
    “Don’t cut me any slack or anything,” Chase grumbled.
    “I won’t. Ta-ta.”
    Chase banged her head on the counter and Gitana poured her another shot. Bud went to her cubbyhole and pulled out her collection of dictionaries. She currently had the pocket dictionary the doctor had given her, the Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate , an Oxford one they’d found at Thrift Town that had the inscription of Christ Church on the title page and an enormous encyclopedic one with pictures—also a Thrift Town find—that was so large she had trouble lifting it.
    “Eliza will probably send her the OED ,” Chase said. She swigged the jigger of tequila, another gift from Eliza. “I can’t believe all this graft and bribery.”
    “You bribe the pediatrician,” Gitana said. She opened the freezer and studied the contents. “Let’s have