Lust, Loathing and a Little Lip Gloss

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Authors: Kyra Davis
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feng shui—it’s not right.”
    “My mother never decorated in accordance to feng shui,” Kane snapped. “And she still felt the spirits.”
    “But she didn’t see them,” Venus said evenly. “She didn’t know how to direct the energy of the house.”
    “There were reasons why the spirits couldn’t come to my mother.” Kane stepped in front of Venus, invading her personal space. “But those reasons had nothing to do with interior decorating. Feng shui means nothing to those in the world beyond.”
    A light laugh escaped her lips. “Kane,” she said, cupping his chin with her workmanlike hand. “You are not an expert in these matters. You can barely summon your own dog, let alone a ghost.”
    Kane didn’t move and for a second I thought that Venus might be in danger. I shot a questioning look at Scott. He no longer looked bored, but neither did he seem to have any intention of intervening.
    But then Kane stepped back, just out of her reach. They continued to stare at one another, not speaking. From the dining room I could hear Amelia’s cheerful chatter, and then she rushed into the room, her eyes dancing with a vivacious energy that seemed incongruous with the mood of the other guests. “Hello!” Her salutation echoed in the silent room. Then she went around to each of the three new arrivals and gave Kane and Scott the same hug and kiss she had given me. Kane tolerated this with what appeared to be strained patience, but Scott clearly enjoyed the close female contact and their hug lasted a half a minute too long. It was Amelia who broke away first. She then smiled nervously at Venus. “Did you get a load of that séance table?” she asked, her joviality suddenly seeming a little forced. “Those candles are beeswax, Venus. I haven’t seen anything this fancy since the last time you hosted an event.”
    “You weren’t at the last event I hosted,” Venus said.
    “No, but I was at the one before that.” She then turned toward the male guests. “Come to the dining room. Enrico outdid himself this time.” She paused right before disappearing back into the dining room and tilted her head in my direction. “Where is Enrico anyway? Did he go out for the perfect wine or something?”
    I winced. I hadn’t yet told them that while the food was from Enrico’s restaurant it wasn’t actually made by Enrico. I wasn’t entirely clear on where I stood with Kane, but I was pretty sure that I was on Venus’s shit list. If she found out that Enrico and I had exchanged words she would blame me for his absence, even if I was the one in the right.
    But before I could figure out how to address the situation the doorbell rang again. I sent up a quick silent prayer that it was Enrico, but to my disappointment it was a family of three. The man introduced himself as Al and the woman and Goth teenage boy as his wife, Lorna, and son, Zach. Three more names from my place cards.
    They were a family, but as far as I could tell the only thing that unified them was proximity. The man was a clean-cut blonde with thinning hair. He wore a polo shirt and chinos and he appeared more resigned than happy to be there. His son was a whole other story. His hair, his clothes, his nails, all colored black. Even his eyes were outlined with a harsh black eyeliner, made all the more dramatic by his white powdered face. Around his neck he wore a velvet ribbon choker, and I was tempted to reach out and see if its unraveling would result in decapitation.
    But it was the woman who interested me. Like her husband, she wore chinos and her cotton shirt was a pale pink. Her hair was a graying brown and cut neatly in a style that you would expect to see on the stereotypical suburban homemaker. Totally normal, yet, on her, the outfit, the haircut, even the mild-mannered smile, it all seemed like a costume: her hair too thick for such a neat cut where it should have been long and unruly, her skin too olive for the light-colored clothing, the

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