Miss Bliss

- Prologue -

––––––––

Something Handsome Your Way Comes!

––––––––

Miss Harmony Makepeace Bliss stared at the tiny blue message written on the white slip of paper, her brow wrinkling in confusion.

What kind of fortune was that?

Nibbling on the cookie, Harmony considered this latest portent of doom.  Good thing she didn’t actually believe in fortune cookie divination!

Better try a tea leaf reading though.

One couldn’t be too careful in matters such as this.

- Chapter 1 -

––––––––

"Your grandmother is at it again."

What?

Dot’s gone dotty, shrilled the voice in his ear, "and I want you to do something about it!"

Joel Kennedy groaned and scrubbed a hand through his dark hair.

Tossing an apologetic smile to the lovely lady who was currently cuddled up on his lap, her body half-naked and ripe for pleasure, the man tried to focus on the late night intrusion.

I’m busy right now, Joel barked into the phone.  Can’t this wait until morning, Mother?

"No, it can’t!  You’ll never believe what Dot’s done this time."  Elise Kennedy, Joel’s mother, continued on as if she hadn’t heard him.  Or more likely had heard, but didn’t care!

Joel bit back a growl of frustration.  His mother was obviously intent on gossiping and there was nothing on this earth that would stop her from doing so right now.

Joel’s gaze drifted to the woman on his lap.  The blonde wasn’t happy about this interruption either.  Despite her pout, the woman had a good mouth and had been putting it to good use right up until his phone had rung.

Sorry, he murmured, hoping the apology would appease his lover.

Sorry for what? his mother asked.

Joel muttered something unintelligible beneath his breath.  He’d forgotten Elise had sharp hearing.  It came from listening at doors and keyholes!

The blonde in Joel’s arms rolled her eyes and climbed out of his lap, snagging her shirt as she went.

Don’t go, he begged while the woman put her clothes back on.  We’re just getting started, baby!

"Who are you talking to, Joel?"  His mother’s voice was icy disdain in his ear.

The blonde evaded Joel’s hands as he made one last desperate grab for her.  If he could just kiss her again, maybe she’d stick around.

I’m out of here, she told him instead.  Can’t stand whiney Momma’s boys!  Err, what’s your name again?

Joel, he reminded her.  The name’s Joel!

With a rueful grin, Joel recalled that names were the last thing on their minds an hour ago.

Yeah right.  Joel.  Don’t bother calling me! the woman yelled as the door slammed behind her.

What was that about? demanded Elise.

Joel sighed as he heard a car rev and tires squeal.  The blonde gunned the engine and then she was gone.  His one good chance at getting laid tonight had disappeared out his door in a flick of golden hair, a cloud of perfume and an inch of rubber laid on his driveway.

Not that he remembered her name either!

Or actually had her phone number.

Joel?  I’m waiting!

Taking a swig of warm beer and kicking back on his sofa, Joel was quite prepared to let his mother wait.  Then wait some more.  His relative had just driven away a willing woman and ruined his late night plan for some sizzling sex.  For that, she deserved to suffer.

"Joel!"

He could just see his mother now, her toe tapping out a sharp staccato, her meticulously made-up face pinched into that unhappy expression she got when people didn’t do what she wanted, when she wanted.

What’s grandmother done this time? he asked, finally relenting after a minute’s painful silence.

Giving in to Elise’s demands meant he could get this whole thing out the way, then hang up on her.  Although if truth be told, Joel was curious to know what had warranted this late night frantic phone call.  His grandmother was quite the character, who always found amusing ways of upsetting his mother.

The old woman’s gone too far this time!

Joel knew he didn’t need to wait long for the big reveal.  Elise specialized in gossip, but her favorite hobby by far was complaining about her own mother-in-law.  There was no love lost between the two women and unfortunately, Joel often found himself in the middle of it.

I’ve just learned that Dot has given away half her money, his mother wailed.

Are you sure? Joel demanded a heartbeat later, his attention completely captured by the news.

Of course I’m sure, Elise sniped.  "I never joke about money.  Dot’s donated her lifesavings to some charity organization and I want you to go to your grandmother in the morning and demand she get it all back, every last single cent of it."

Why can’t you do it? Joel drawled, not at all impressed with his mother’s demand.

We’re not on speaking terms, reminded his mother.  Besides, I am chairing a charity meeting.  It wouldn’t do, not to attend an important function like that.

For the second time tonight, Joel found himself wishing he hadn’t picked up the phone.  ‘It wouldn’t do’ was a common catchphrase, a sentence he was so used to hearing.  Appearances were everything to his social snob of a mother.

Another specialty of hers was railroading some poor sap into some loathsome task.  Guess who the sap was going to be this time?

Joel was also loathe to admit it but Elise did have a point.  A lot of money was involved, and he really should get to the bottom of this.

Fine, he sighed.  I’ll straighten everything out.  I’m sure this is just a simple misunderstanding though.

Elise laughed, a fake tinkle of delight she’d honed to perfection from her many years as a socialite.

You’re a good boy, Joel.  I knew you’d fix everything.  Night dear, kiss, kiss!

Joel groaned, full of frustration as he hung up.  What had started out as a promising night of sexy fun had turned, as usual, into a family disaster.  Why did this keep on happening to him?

––––––––

––––––––

Your mother is checking up on me, I see.

Joel glanced away from the building he was studying to locate the owner of the familiar voice.

She’s worried about you, he told his grandmother, watching as she paid off her fare and waved the taxi away.

Rubbish, retorted Dot Kennedy as she stood on the cobblestone street beside him.  Elise is only worried about my money!

Joel smiled at his relative, a merry twinkle in his eye.  You’ve really got mother wound up this time.  Was that the plan?

His grandmother chuckled, obviously tickled to hear that her daughter-in-law was in such a flap.  I prefer to wing it when it comes to annoying your mother.  Just do what comes naturally.

Joel went back to scanning the run-down building facade.  The address, right in the heart of Rue Saint-Paul, was the one his mother had given, but it didn’t appear to be any charity organization he’d ever heard of.  Joel stared at the bright hand painted sign on the window.

The Den Of Zen?

What on earth was that?

Don’t you have a kiss for your poor, old grandma?

Joel leant down to buss her wrinkled cheek.  You’re far from poor.

She sniffed.  Poorly then.

You’re not that either, grandmother!

Dot Kennedy was one of the fittest old broads Joel knew.  Her power walks, energy shakes and fondness for brandy couldn’t be beat.  And if you stood between this woman and the dessert cart at a buffet, you’d better be prepared for her ‘Elbows of Steel’.  Joel had seen many a younger person wilt in the presence of his grandmother.

This old woman also had an amazing ability to get up to mischief.  Which was the very reason he was spending his lunchbreak, standing on a busy Old Montreal sidewalk, staring up at a broken down building.

You want to tell me what’s going on? he asked.

It’s simple, really, Dot told him.  I was a trifle bored sitting around that nursing home.  Retirement is rather dull you know, dear, so I decided to improve my mind.

Joel grinned.  His grandmother’s mind had always been a steel trap.  She was sharp as a tack and bright as a light bulb, which was what got her into these little predicaments in the first place.

That, plus a whole heap of free time!

"How does this place fit into that scheme of yours, grandmother?"  Joel waved a hand at the seen-better-days building.  This didn’t look the sort of place where you could broaden your horizons or your mind—not a reputable kind of place, anyway!

Never judge a building by its facade, Joel.  You should know that.  The poor thing simply needs a touch of restoration.

Joel raised an eyebrow.  A touch?  While the building had potential, what it really needed was an injection of capital, of cold hard cash.  Failing that, a few pounds of dynamite would do the trick!

Joel didn’t understand why Dot had given her money away, but what he did know was building design, being an architect himself.  Casting his expert eye over the 19thCentury building, he noted that the two story structure on this old city block had definitely seen better times.  Back in its heyday, it would have been majestic, replete with grey stone, wrought ironwork, hand carved details and arched windows.

But that was decades ago!  Now the stone facing was crumbling in places, the paintwork peeling, the windows coated with decades of city grime.  The whole thing gave off a sad air of neglect and decay.

Condemned was too nice a word for it.

Regardless of the derelict exterior, business was booming.  The frosted double door swung open, and several people exited the building.  Joel watched them hurry off down the sidewalk, his eyes glued to the woman who wore something rather interesting—and low cut.

I believe they call them ‘leotards’, said his grandmother, trying not to chuckle at her grandson’s hungry expression.  But I don’t think I’ll be squeezing myself into one of them anytime soon.

I should hope not! Joel agreed, turning back to face the plump, elderly woman.  That was an image he did not need.

So, he guessed, as more clues fell into place.  This is a community ballet studio, is it?  You’ve given your money to the ballet mistress because she can’t afford the rent on this place, is that it?

How like his grandmother to be a big softie.  She had a huge heart, and this was further proof of her generous nature.

No wonder Joel’s mother was enraged.  To Elise Kennedy, donating personal money to the poor was pouring money down the drain as far as she was concerned.  Why should the great unwashed benefit from other people’s hard work?  Or family fortunes!

I can see why mother’s beside herself, mused Joel.  Giving away money to less fortunate people really isn’t her forte.  Even though she prides herself on being a charity queen.

"Your mother is a contradiction in terms, Joel.  She may aspire to charity work but personally believes