Great. So, Prue was talking me into distracting somebody’s ex into giving up her guitar so it could go to somebody who’d actually play it.
For a ghost.
At least there didn’t seem likely to be any lust imps involved. After school, I dressed up slightly and went to the guy’s place.
I hoped that he was her ex because they stopped getting on, not because there were any other, well, factors. I didn’t want to bump into somebody like Mr. Clem.
He apparently lived in a flat that was one level of a townhouse. With his mother, “Who are you?”
“A friend of Penelope’s.”
“That slut had too many friends.” She slammed the door on me.
Slut? Well…somebody hadn’t approved of her son’s relationship. Possibly with reason. I realized I wasn’t necessarily on the “right” side here.
But then, weren’t the wishes of a dead person kind of important? Even if she was wrong about at least some of it?
Stonewalled by mommy dearest, I moved to lean against the wall slightly opposite and slightly “down” from it. Out of her direct view. He emerged a bit later, pulling out a cigarette.
That was a point against him for underage smoking. Unless he was eighteen, which didn’t seem impossible from here.
He was pretty tall, certainly. I lifted a hand. “Hey.”
He crossed over the street. Pretty tall, not unattractive. “I heard my mother yelling at somebody.”
“Let’s go somewhere she can’t see us. I’m a friend of Penelope’s.”
“No you aren’t,” he said, walking further away from the house. “I know all of her friends. You aren’t one.”
I sighed. “Okay. A friend of Penelope’s sent me to get her guitar. Apparently you still have it.”
“My mother still has it,” he said, quietly. “I’ve tried to give it back, but my mother thinks it’s worth a ton of money.”
I sighed. “Why did you split up?”
He shrugged. “Because I can’t afford to leave home yet.”
I began to see the picture. “Penelope wants her kid brother to have it.”
“Samson? He’s a good kid. And he plays. I’ll try, okay.” A pause. “Did her friend send you because you’re hot?”
I laughed. “She thought I could talk you into it. I guess she hadn’t met your mother.”
“My mother…I need to get more money.”
I looked at him again, then laughed slightly. “Have you considered modeling?”
“I’m a guy!”
“They hire guys too. You’re built like a clothes horse. Here.” I slipped him a business card.
Not how I’d imagined this going, but he needed away from that harridan. And I had to work out how to steal Penelope’s guitar.