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“No way.” She gasped when Arty handed her the file.
“She’s very pretty, right?” Arty said proudly as if he had something to do with it.
“No freaking way!” Eliza started to jump up and down.
“Eliza, it’s not that exciting—”
“Do you not know how big this is?” she yelled at me. “Why didn’t you all tell me that the Odette Wyntor was going to be my sister-in-law?”
I looked at my brother, hoping he understood whatever the hell was happening. But he just stared at her with the same confusion.
“You know her?” he questioned.
“She has a ‘the’ in front of her name?” I asked.
Eliza glanced up from the file to us, and her shoulder slumped. The look of annoyance was clear on her face, or it could be the intent to murder. The veil she had on made it hard to tell. “I swear you guys never listen to me when I talk.”
“I have been feeling that way recently, too. Do you know why, Arty?” I looked at him, but again, he ignored me.
“How do you know her? Have you met her before?” Arty asked her.
“I wish. I’m a huge fan of her music! Remember that concert I wanted to go to last year in New York? It was hers!”
We both stared at her, not remembering at all. She rolled her eyes. “Whenever I play it, you call it depressed-siren music, Gale.”
“That’s her?” Arty and I exclaimed together.
I looked at him, and he looked back at me. We both laughed.
I couldn’t believe it. “The woman who always sounds like she is about to Sylvia Plath herself is Little Miss Sunshine? There has to be a mistake.”
“Little Miss Sunrise,” Arty corrected.
“Whatever.” I reached over, taking the file from Eliza’s hands and looking at the photo.
Odette was all smiles, and her eyes even seemed to hold a twinkle. I lifted the photo to Eliza just in case she was mistaken. “Are you sure this is the same woman?”
“I know what my favorite musicians look like, thank you,” she snapped. “And seeing as you’re marrying her, you should at least have the decency to know her music style. It’s called heartbreak sad soul, not depressed siren.”
“I think my name for it makes better sense, but what do I know?” I grinned, looking to the section about her music.
She had albums out and had been nominated for a Grammy in the past. She didn’t win, but still, when they’d said musician, I hadn’t thought much of it.
“I really can’t believe it.” Eliza, the goth wannabe, giggled. “It feels like fate.”
“Yes, like all the world wants them to be together,” Arty stated, now standing upright.
They really know how to ruin my fun. Closing the file, I sat up and tossed it back onto the desk. “Fate has nothing to do with this, fortune does.”
“Gaining wealth and losing wealth is fate, too.”
“Then maybe it is our fate to lose it,” I whispered, and silence filled the air briefly before he spoke again.
“Eliza, you should go ahead. The Halloween fair will be starting soon,” he said to her, and it was only then that I remembered what today was. At least that explained her outfit.
“I have a minute to see you smack him,” she said, amused.
But Arty had somehow mastered Mother’s “look,” so he did not have to say a word to her. She understood to leave.
