by Lisa Lutz
summary
Izzy has finally agreed to take over Spellman Inc., not without strict contracts and stipulations. Her first order of business take down the competition, not without a few deceptions on, said competitions part. A missing-person case at the home of an aging millionaire, adds to the mix, enter Izzy's friend Len, who infiltrates the mansion as an undercover butler, Len practices his method acting and will not break character for anything, driving his partner Christopher to the brink.
Blackmail further complicates Izzy's life -- date 2 professionals per month to keep her Mother at bay, not something that her current boyfriend finds too amusing. Add to this, calls from the edge, Rae's unrelenting pro-bono work, missing fixtures and daily rules at the Spellman office and you've got the funniest book in the series.
I absolutely recommend this series, I still couldn't put them down!
SPOILER ALERT!
I had to include this in my blog, I had a fit of giggles reading this... too funny. Now it could be because I have read the entire series that I find this hilarious.. but I'll risk it anyways.
A bit of background for you...
Len: San Francisco born and bred, actor, Black and gorgeous (as if you could question this.. hehe), Christopher: British, partner to Len, Black and gorgeous (again.. as if you could question this!)
Izzy from time to time hires her friends Len and Christopher to help with cases, mostly her jobs include stereotypical work as thugs. Not this time, Len, between acting gigs, is hired to play the role of butler to an aging millionaire, a role Len takes a little too seriously, driving Christopher to his breaking point. Christopher asks Izzy to take Len off the case or serious consequences will ensue. You see Len will not break character, to make his role more believable he adopts a british accent. Christopher, Len's brithish boyfriend strugglin with both this unending role and his new accent, asks Izzy for advice.. her advice... a dose of his own medicine
Here is a tidbit from the book... A dose of his own medicine...
That evening, Christopher phoned me and said that he had collected some fingerprint samples from Mason's room. I decided to drop by their loft and see how my Method actor and his partner were doing. I'm afraid I have to report that things had taken a turn for the worse.
Just a quick refresher: Christopher is British; Len (AKA mr. Lenonard) is San Francisco born and bred.
This is how Christopher answered the door: "Yo, Izz, where ya been?"
While his accent wasn't perfect, it resembled Baltimore slang a la HBO's The Wire, Len and Christopher's favourite show. However, if I missed the point with the accent, Christopher's puff jacket, saggy jeans and do-rag cleared it up for me.
"Uh-oh," I said.
"Yo, make yourself comfortable."
"Where's Len?" I asked nervously.
"The mother f*cker's makin' tea or something. You feelin' thirst?"
"No, I'm fine," I replied, finding a seat on the couch, bracing myself for what might happen next.
When Len entered the room, the contrast reached the point of absurdity. Len was still in his three-piece work attire and he was, as his companion had said so eloquently, making tea.
"Isabel, what a pleasant surprise," Len said. Yes, still in his valet character.
"Yo, I told you she'd be dropping by for the shit."
"Oh yes, must have slipped my mind," Len said with excessive sarcasm.
Then he turned to me as if I'd be his ally. "Can you believe the vulgarity I have to contend with here?"
"Oh my god, what have I done?" I said.
"You want the English shit or a forty instead?" Christopher asked while popping his own can of malt liquor.
"This is what I want. I want the fingerprints and I want both of you to break character and talk like reasonable people about what's going on here."
"I'll get you your shit," Christopher said, heading into the other room
Len approached and sat down on the couch right next to me, leaning in conspiratorially.
"He won't stop. No matter what I do, I simply cannot get him to stop. I'm absolutely at my wit's end."
"You stop first," I said.
"I'm merely doing my job; what's he doing?"
"Heads up." Christopher said, tossing a paper bag in my direction.
I caught the bag in midair and made a beeline for the door.
"I'll be in touch," I said.
"Isabel, I beg you don't go," said Mr. Leonard.
"I have a date," I replied.
"Bitch you lie," Christopher said, following me to the door.
"This is dreadful," I said.
"Holler if ya need more investigative materials," said Christopher, and finally breaking character he mumbled, "I want this case closed."
"Fo shizzle:, I replied.
From the novel ~ The Spellmans Strike again by Lisa Lutz
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