Boy, did I, because I had a great idea.
An idea I outlined in some detail, pausing only to send photos through.
My heart raced as Lily looked them over. Then she came back on the line.
“Let me get this right,” she asked. “You would let Georges and me hold our wedding at the château for nothing more than a cleaning fee of a few hundred euros.”
I nodded. “It’s all yours — the chapel, the beautifully converted stable, the ballroom…”
Technically, the chapel didn’t have a roof — yet — and the ballroom was months away from being presentable. But, hey. Everyone worked better under a deadline, right?
“You can even spend the night in the honeymoon suite,” I promised.
Once again, I congratulated myself on the genius move of talking my sister and Marius into a wedding, where we’d snapped hundreds of pictures to use in advertising. Hosting Lily’s wedding wouldn’t generate any revenue, but it would get the wiring done, if this genius plot of mine worked. We also stood to gain a good review and a chance to test all those newly developed areas of the château.
Once we actually developed them, that was.
“It looks amazing. What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” I assured her. “It will help our marketing efforts, and we’re happy to help someone with roots in Auberre, so it’s a win-win. But I would appreciate it if you could get your future father-in-law to move us up his waiting list and complete all the wiring before then. We’ll pay his regular rates, of course.” I paused a little breathlessly. “Do you think he’ll agree?” I paused, then threw in, “Did I mention we have a vintage roadster from 1936?”
Roux’s eyebrows jumped up.
“A real classic,” I went on. “Your father-in-law can take it for a spin. Here’s a picture…”
I sent it through, and a moment later, a whistle of appreciation came over the line.
“Oh, I’m sure he can be convinced,” Lily said.
“You can choose any date you want. I mean, sometime after the wiring is done.”
My hinting knew no shame, but heck. That wiring was crucial.
“I have to say, that sounds a hundred times better than renting the localsalle des fêtes,” she said.
I laughed. Better than the average community center? “I guarantee, it will be. No squeezing yourself in between scout meetings and senior bridge night. The whole place will be yours — and you can make things as grand or as intimate as you like.”
“I’ll talk to Georges and get back to you. Soon,” she promised.
Her giddy tone suggested that wouldn’t be long. I said goodbye, hung up, and did a little fist pump.
Roux didn’t look impressed, though.
“What?” I demanded.
“Is there another vintage car I don’t know about? One that runs, perhaps?”
I patted his shoulder. “I have faith in you.”
“I’m a tiger, not a magician. Getting parts has been impossible.”
I snorted, taking out my notepad. “What do you need?”
“Forget it. Those parts are impossible to find.”
I patted my chest. “I work in theater. We specialize in the impossible.”
He scoffed. “Even car parts?”
