Lady Ozie requires your attendance in the Seaport on December 30th at 11:00 a.m. to discuss a matter of importance to your future. A car will be sent to collect you.
Aida stared at the paper. The elegance of the invitation and the sheer audacity of receiving it on Christmas Eve made it feel like something out of a fairy tale.
Graham peeked over her shoulder. “What’s that?”
“A joke, I think.”
“A joke? Who would do that?”
“It must be a scam. There’s no return address, phone number, or email.” She handed it to Graham.
He looked it over, an eyebrow raised. “Is Lady Ozie related to Ozzy Osbourne?”
Aida chuckled at the ridiculousness of the idea. But more sobering, why would this “Lady” think anyone would agree to hop into a strange car without any other information? Imagining her face on episodes of shows likeUnsolved Mysteriesor48 Hours, she shuddered. Aida plucked the invitation out of Graham’s hand and picked up her laptop.
“I think it’s Oh-Zee, not Ah-Zee. Let me put this away and I’ll help with dinner.”
She had just set her laptop—and the invite—on the desk in the alcove off the bedroom when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Digging it out, she saw the text was from Felix, a tour guide in Rome who had quickly become a friend after she met him several years ago when she was researching her book and needed information about specific Renaissance period locations in the city. When he learned she was no ordinary tourist and not only spoke the language but had a strong understanding of Italian history and culture, he had quickly taken to her and happily guided her through the city, sharing his expertise and connecting her to scholars she might not otherwise have had easy access to.
Buon Natale, amica mia! I think someone may reach out to you soon about a job. Rich client of mine, a Lady Ozie.
Aida stared at the envelope in front of her. The gold lettering shone in the gleam of the holiday lights in the window.
A job? Is this a joke?she texted back. Although she desperately needed a job, this seemed too strange to be true.
Felix took a moment to respond and then it wasn’t by text. When Aida’s phone flashed with his video call, she took it immediately.
“Cara!It is much better to see your lovely face. You cut your hair!” Felix smiled through the small rectangle of her phone. His russet locks were tousled and fell over one eye.
“I did!” Aida held her hand up to show off her new shag cut. “I almost went pink but thought it might make me look too young.”
“Ha! You don’t need the pink. The blond looks good on you,” Felix remarked, before briefly pausing to address someone in the room. After the sound of a door closing, he resumed. “My handsome Christmas present,” he joked. “But he doesn’t need to hear this.”
Aida grinned, glad to know he wasn’t alone on the holiday.
“So, this Lady Ozie,” she began. “I received an invitation from her today and I was just about to throw it away. I thought it was some kind of prank.”
Felix’s expression grew serious. “No, no, Aida, it’s not a joke. It’s a real job offer. So, this is the thing. I’m not sure if I’ve met Ozie—if I have, I never knew it. One day, I received a letter praising the expertise of my tours and asking if I would give specialized private excursions to anyone who came to me and was referred by her. But I’m not to talk about them to anyone. I’ve been sworn to secrecy about the whole thing. It’s all quite clandestine.”
Aida raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking to me though.”
Felix chuckled. “Indeed, but only because I’ve referred you to Lady Ozie. Despite the rather unnecessary shroud of secrecy, she compensates me at quadruple my standard rate.”
“Wow, that sounds like a nice arrangement. Do you do a lot of tours for her?”
He shrugged. “For the rates she pays, one might expect A-list clientele, but it’s only been a historian from South Africa—a Mr. Johannes Khumalo. The tours I gave him were specialized,primarily more obscure locations. I had to prepare pretty well beforehand, making sure I could get access and that I had all the information he might need.”
“What types of locations?”
“There have been so many, I can’t remember them all. Most recently, Princess Isabelle’s apartment in Palazzo Colonna—a room of extraordinary beauty—and the optical illusion frescoes of Trinità dei Monti convent. Before Lady Ozie’s team canceled, I was preparing to show him the secret rooms of Saint Philip Neri in the Santa Maria in Valicella church. Neri is considered to be a saint of happiness. The spirit of God was said to visit him with a flame that made his heart grow double in size, and he was filled with warmth and thereafter preached joy to his congregation. But not many people have heard of him.”
“A saint of happiness?” Aida could use a bit more happiness in her life.
“That’s right. According to him, ‘A joyful heart is more easily made perfect than a downcast one.’ He believed we should aspire to be joyful and happy.”
“Well, don’t most people aspire to that?” Aida asked. “Unfortunately, the world is pretty good at ripping happiness and joy right out of our hot little hands.”
“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep aspiring to it, no matter how bleak things become. Besides, you don’t really believe that. You are the most optimistic person I know,” he said.
