“Mom, I was talking to Uncle Albinium.”
“Don’t speak to your mother like that, Rhamenas,” growled a male voice. “Show some respect.”
“Oh, shut up, Dad. I wasn’t talking to you, either.”
Jarrett and I shared a look of concern. Looked like all the mummies in this place were suddenly coming alive. This did not look good!
“Why are you all still here?” I asked. “You’ve been gone for thousands of years.”
“And whose fault is that?” asked Uncle Albinium. “That good-for-nothing Rhamenas killed me!”
“And me,” said the Pharaoh’s mother.
“Add me to the roster,” grumbled his father.
“Wait, you killed your entire family?” I asked.
“Of course I did! How do you think I managed to become Pharaoh at such a young age? If I’d have waited, I’d never been Pharaoh. Don’t think I didn’t know you were all scheming behind my back. You were going to have another baby, weren’t you?”
“None of your beeswax,” said the Pharaoh’s mother sharply.
“We weren’t scheming,” said Uncle Albinium. “We were simply concerned about your mental health, that’s all.”
“Oh, you were worried about my mental health? Maybe you should worry about yours, you old fruitcake.”
“I’m not the nutcase in this family. You are!”
“No, you are! You’re all nuts!”
“Sticks and stones, Rhamenas! Sticks and stones!”
“I think we better get out of here,” I whispered.
“I think you’re right,” Jarrett whispered back.
So we snuck out of the Ancient Egypt room, leaving Rhamenas and his family to fight amongst themselves. When we encountered Julian, I told him he needed to separate the family members. Only then would he ever have a hope of removing these annoying disturbances from his museum.
“I didn’t even know they were related,” he said, surprised.
“Rhamenas killed his own parents and his uncle, because he felt they were trying to keep him from becoming pharaoh,” I explained. “And by putting them all in the same room, you simply reignited these centuries-old resentments.”
“They never were in the same room before,” said the director. “We just thought it would be interesting to have them all in one collection. They were spread out across the globe before.”
“Trust me,” said Jarrett. “Spread them out again. It’ll fix all your problems.”
And as we walked away, we could still hear Rhamenas fighting with his family. “This doesn’t bode well for the Wraith Wranglers, Harry,” said Jarrett, a worried frown on his handsome face.
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve never failed a client before.”
“We didn’t fail Julian. He just has to split up the quarreling family and he’ll be fine,” I argued.
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “I have a very bad feeling about this.” He checked his watch. “Oh, shoot. I’m going to be late.”
“Late for what?”
“Deshawn is on the Graham Norton Show. They’re taping it right now. Wanna come?”
And so, even though I didn’t know it at the time, began the next great adventure of the Wraith Wranglers.
Jarrett’s words would soon prove true.
Chapter Three
Sitting in the audience at the Graham Norton Show was quite the experience. We got some of the best seats in the house, right in the front row, where we had a good view of all the action. Deshawn was seated next to talk show host Graham Norton, whose eyes were sparkling with mirth as he interviewed the former butler. Next to Deshawn sat Marisol Glee, the famous singer with the golden pipes. The notoriously volatile diva did not look happy that all the attention was now going to some baking Jeeves.
“So you were an actual butler, were you? Amazing,” said Graham.
“Yes, and now my former employer is my boyfriend,” said Deshawn, a soft-spoken, stocky man.
“I can’t believe this,” said Norton, rubbing his graying beard as he gazed into the camera. “This is like Pretty Woman, people, only much, much better! Hollywood, you have got to turn this man’s story into a movie!”
“Starring Matt Damon,” said Deshawn with a slight smile.
“Oh, why not? And who’s going to play your boyfriend?”
Deshawn glanced into the audience at Jarrett, and said, “Ryan Gosling, of course.”
“Of course,” said Graham. “Matt Damon and Ryan Gosling. I would see that movie! Wouldn’t you see that movie?!”
The audience burst into loud applause.
“Yes, you would, wouldn’t you?” said Graham, also applauding.
And Deshawn? He just sat there, that same small smile on his face.
“I had a butler who baked once,” said Marisol now, with customary affectation. “You wouldn’t believe the things he did for me. It boggled the mind.” She smiled at the camera and adjusted her ultra-tight miniskirt.
“You don’t say,” said Graham, making an effort not to roll his eyes. “Now, Deshawn. Tell me more about The Great British Bake Off. I’m dying to know what you think about Paul Hollywood. Simply scrumptious, isn’t he?”
“He has a very impressive presence,” Deshawn agreed. “Though not as impressive as my boyfriend Jarrett Zephyr-Thornton, of course.”
“Oh, you are an infatuated little birdie, aren’t you?!” Graham exclaimed.
“I had a bird once,” said Marisol with a stiffish smile.
“I’ll bet you did,” said Graham. “What is your favorite pastry, Deshawn?”
“Well, I love a good Bundt cake,” Deshawn admitted.
“You can never have too much Bundt cake,” Graham agreed.
“I ate a Bundt cake once,” Marisol began.
“Of course you did,” Graham said acerbically. “Do you see yourself winning the competition, Deshawn?”
“I’m certainly going to give it my all, Graham.”
Jarrett let out a soft sigh. “Deshawn is handling himself so well, isn’t he? And look how photogenic he is. The cameras simply adore him.”
“I thought you didn’t like all this newfound attention he’s getting?”
“I don’t—but I have to admit he’s crushing it, darling. Simply crushing it.”
And he was. At least until the next guests appeared. Which is when Jarrett lost it.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Graham Norton. “The moment you’ve all been waiting for has finally arrived. Please welcome onto the stage, the one and only… Piquant Pack!”
“Omigod!” cried Jarrett, his hands flying to his face. “Omigod!”
One by one, the members of the legendary nineties girl band walked onstage, announced with thunderous voice by Graham. “Piquant Red, Piquant Blue, Piquant Blond, Piquant Pink and Piquant Black, ladies and gentlemen. Reunited for the first time in twenty years, exclusively on the Graham Norton Show!”
“Omigod, omigod, omigod,” Jarrett was whispering, in total shock.
“Don’t tell me. You were a fan?” I asked.
“Who wasn’t?!”
“Well, since I was only three when they split, I guess I wasn’t.”
“I love them,” he breathed, eyes goggling. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for-ever!”
I watched as the five women walked on stage. I vaguely remembered the band, having heard their songs on the radio over the years, though I wasn’t really familiar with their work. They’d done their hair the same way they used to: Janell Nodding was rocking a flaming red mane, Carrie Dobbins a cool blue, Amaryllis Gutenberg a lustrous blond, Courtney Coppola piquant pink and Perpetua Roman a striking black. Together they were the Piquant Pack, and judging from the roar of the audience, they were as popular now as they were then.
They all took a seat on Graham’s trademark red couches, right next to Marisol Glee, who didn’t look impressed, and Deshawn, whose eyes had a glazed look, and I thought I could see his lips forming ‘Omigod!’
“Don’t tell me. Deshawn is a fan, too?”
“Only the biggest fan in the universe! No. Wait. That’s me!”