“Potato, potahto. I’m not going to cry for the poor little rich girl. She probably wears fur.”
“Jean. It’ll never work. I’m like the anti-Lillibet. I can’t cook, I know diddly about yoga, and I don’t speak in inspirational slogans. Also, in case you haven’t noticed, we live in squalor.”
“It’s taken care of.”
Libby froze as if a brick wall had materialized inches from her face. “What is?”
“We found the perfect spot.” Jean linked her arm through Keoki’s. “Some guy K knows from the restaurant. The most incredible house. It’s so Lillibet. You’re going to wet yourself when you see it. Although I guess not, since Lillibet is the queen of Kegels.”
“Please never say that out loud again.” Libby might as well have waved a red flag in front of a bull.
“She works that pelvic floor like… a loaf of homemade rye. Something-something sauerkraut fermenting, harness the power of your gut biome?”
Keoki was too traumatized to protest, so Libby spoke for both of them. “Step away from the metaphor.”
“Fine. The point is that the stage is set. Still working on the goats, but how hard can it be?”
“One of our suppliers makes his own chèvre,” Keoki volunteered, earning a slap on the back from Jean.
“See? It’s all happening.”
“Slow down. Rewind. What’s this about a house? I thought this was supposed to be a work thing.”
“That girl almostdied,Libby. But through the darkest hours of the night, she held on to a dream.” Jean pressed her hands to her heart. “A dream of meeting a hot yoga wife with money to burn who isn’t afraid to tell other people how to live.”
“Seriously?”
“Wouldn’t you want a tropical vacay after almost freezing your nads off? Besides, it’s like they say. The end justifies the means.”
“You do realize that’s not a motivational quote?” Libby summoned her best for-real-this-time expression. “Give it to me straight. Is she coming here for Lillibet or mai tais by the pool?”
“It’s a package deal,” Jean said with the pseudo-casual air of someone who didn’t want to discuss the fine print. “Enjoy some sun and surf, stage a bunch of photo ops with the guy who saved your life—”
“So that is who she’s bringing?”
“Who cares? The important part is your future boss.”
Libby wouldn’t have minded talking about Mr. Wilderness a little more if her world wasn’t on fire. “But they don’t even know me. I meanher.”
“You did say you prided yourself on always being ready to welcome unexpected guests. And with the way you talked up Me-mas, who could resist?”
“I guess I should have been more careful about ourimaginary charactertalking out her ass about her hostessing mojo. Or her nonexistent holiday!”
“I told you. It’s all good. K has a whole menu planned.”
“He gave me carte blanche,” Keoki said.
Usually Libby appreciated his mellow vibe as a counterweight to Jean’s manic energy, but right now it grated on her nerves. “Who?”
“Mr. L. One of our regulars. I talked to him about Keoki’s Kitchen. He might be willing to invest.”
“Really?” For a second Libby forgot about the rest of the mess. “Tutu will be so pumped.” Especially since she was the one who’d taught Keoki to cook. And unironically love cheesy pop music, but that was more of a mixed blessing.
“It’s not a done deal. That’s part of why he’s letting us use his house. This is like an audition. A chance to show him what I can do.”
“This?” Libby asked, hoping the answer wasn’t,This disaster waiting to happen. The Lillibet fiasco. Impending doom, on a silver platter.“What about work?”
“I had some time off coming.”
