What A Nunderful World (Nun of Your Business Mysteries Book 5)

  What A Nunderful World

  Dakota Cassidy

  Dakota Cassidy

  Copyright

  What A Nunderful World

  Published 2020 by Dakota Cassidy

  ASIN: B0848QLCHW

  Copyright © 2020, Dakota Cassidy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Book Boutiques.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is wholly coincidental. The names, characters, dialogue, and events in this book are from the author’s imagination and should not to be construed as real.

  Manufactured in the USA.

  Acknowledments

  Editor: Kelli Collins

  Cover: Art Renee George

  Author’s Note

  My darling readers,

  Welcome to the Nun of Your Business Mysteries! I so hope you’ll enjoy the fifth adventure for Trixie Lavender and her pal Coop, an ex-nun and a demon, respectively, trying to make their way in the world—together.

  Please note, I currently live in the beautiful state of Oregon, just outside of Portland. And though not a native (New Yorker here!), I’ve fallen in love over and over again with my new home state every day for the almost six years we’ve been here. That said, I’ve created a district (sort of like the Pearl District, for you natives) in a suburb of Portland that is totally fictional, called Cobbler Cove.

  You may recognize some of the places/streets/eateries I mention because they do exist, but keep in mind, I’m also flagrantly instituting my artistic license with the geography of gorgeous Portland to suit my own selfish needs. Some names for characters or groups/eateries/streets mentioned herein are completely fictitious.

  As I’ve mentioned in my previous cozy mysteries, there’s an ongoing mystery surrounding Coop and Trixie that will play out over the course of the series (sorrysorrysorry!), but the central mystery in each story will be all wrapped up in a pretty package with a nice bow by book’s end.

  That out of the way, welcome to the crazy world Trixie and Coop inhabit. I hope you come to love them as much as I do!

  What A Nunderful World

  Chapter 1

  “Are you excited, Coop?” I asked my intrepid demon with a grin of affection.

  Naturally, I couldn’t tell by her facial expressions, but her body language was twitchy. Which I took to mean, she was borderline ecstatic.

  Her gorgeous green eyes met mine as we moved up in the long line we’d been waiting in for almost two hours at Cobbler Cove Hall while icy rain poured down over our shared umbrella.

  “Is my eyeliner running, Trixie Lavender? I can’t meet Glitzy Mitzy with smudged eyeliner. Mitzy always says there’s no excuse for smudges unless it’s because you’ve been out all night at a super-fun club, laughing so hard it brought you to tears and even then, it’s questionable. I’m not sure I understand what that means because the last time we went to a club, I sure didn’t laugh, but then I guess I can’t really laugh anyhow.” She paused and inhaled. “Anyway, my point is, I worked extra hard to smoke my eyes out just for this occasion.”

  I grinned at her again and lifted her chin, admiring the beautiful tilt upward of her almond-shaped eyes, adorned in a masterful blend of glittery pink to her eyelids and burnt orange in the creases.

  Then she’d buffed the burnt orange with a mix of med-blue under her eyes until it looked exactly as she’d called it—smoked out. The effect made her look mysterious and smoldering.

  Coop’s newest passion—aside from her word of the day, tattoos, Dynasty, and Joan Collins—was makeup. Not that she needed any, mind you. As you all know, she’s stunning with her waist-length red hair, a body to die for, and her bronzed skin that never seemed to need any sun to keep its healthy glow, but always looked as though she was fresh from the tanning salon.

  Some might call her beauty otherworldly, and they’d be right. But she wore the makeup, it didn’t wear her, is the best way to describe her latest passion.

  And by the way, Glitzy Mitzy is what one would call an influencer—a makeup guru on YouTube who’s making bank buying lots of different brands of makeup (this is called a haul), and then giving the viewers her opinion on not just the quality and ease of use for the brand, but creating tons of different looks with one palette of eyeshadow.

  And she’s who we were here to see.

  “Trixie? Please tell me if my eyeliner is on point,” she implored, her eyes searching mine with that intensity only Coop possessed.

  Patting her arm, I bounced my head and fought a giggle at this new slang she’d picked up. “Your eyeliner is totally smoked out, Coop. It’s so on point, your gorgeous face should be right next to the phrase ‘on point.’ Promise.”

  She didn’t smile her acknowledgement of my words, but she did manage to lift one side of her fully lined and glossed red lips in her recently perfected smirk—only making her ever more endearing to those of us who knew how hard it was for her to facially express emotions.

  “Are you sure?” She stuck her face in mine for inspection and closed her eyes so I could see her hour-long application of pink glitter eyeshadow and a cut crease in Tahitian Sun.

  You might ask yourself what that means, and I’d like to give you an answer, but I’m still not even sure what it means. What I can tell you? We went to Ulta, Sephora, and various other makeup places in the mall on a hunt to find the elusive Tahitian Sun eyeshadow in order to create this cut-creased look. A shadow Coop had been convinced she’d die if she didn’t have.

  According to her, it was the final piece of the “look” she was going for and if Glitzy Mitzy said you needed it, Coop was moving Heaven and Earth to get it.

  “What about my blush?” she asked, in an almost anxious tone. “Did I blend it enough? Blending is ultra-important or I’ll look like a clown. I don’t want to look like a clown in front of Mitzy. She’s not the number-one makeup guru on YouTube for nothing, Trixie. I love her. I want her to see how hard I worked to make it look exactly like her sunrise/sunset video so she knows how much I respect her as a fellow artist.”

  This video Coop was talking about was the most viewed upload out of all the makeup gurus in the history of YouTube. And I wasn’t going to upset my sweet, loyal demon’s apple cart by telling her Mitzy probably wouldn’t be able to give Coop the kind of attention Coop gives her.

  Not if this line, stretching out and around the block on one of the yuckiest nights Portland had seen in a long time, was any indication.

  Mitzy had a following I hadn’t quite expected. It felt more like the lines you saw for a Backstreet Boys concert back in the day. There were tons of not only teens, but adults, too, all dressed to the nines, their makeup on point, as Coop says, all here to spend a moment with their favorite guru.

  There was no denying tons of people loved this just-past-her-teen-years, multimillion-dollar influencer who used makeup as a conduit to reach hundreds of thousands of viewers with a catchy greeting at the beginning of each video.

  I think I’ve heard, “Hey, Glitzy Ditzies, It’s Mitzy here!” followed by her signature “squee!” at least a thousand times since Coop began surfing YouTube.

  Coop watched her videos as though her very life depended on Mitzy’s every word. She even had her phone set to notify her in the event her beloved guru put up a new video.

  However, I want to add, if this was the worst of Coop’s recent decla
ration to “live her best life,” I can live with it.

  Somedays, now that Coop was more and more exposed to the world around her here on Earth, she was reminiscent of a teenager, discovering new things by trial and error. And I tried to cater to the fact that she was actually, in terms of life experience anyway, still a child in an adult’s body who’d never been to a prom or failed a test or had her heart broken.

  Since she’d set her sights on soaking up all life had to offer, Coop had tried many new things while the rest of us hung on to her coattails for dear life and offered the occasional bit of advice to steer her clear of danger.

  Though, one thing I’m eternally grateful for is the discovery she’s not a fan of alcohol. Unfortunately, she found that out the hard way—after a couple of shots of tequila and a drink called a Moscow Mule. She tried them both when she’d attended her first (and mine, too) underground party. Phew, that was a night I won’t soon forget.

  A night that included a lot of really icky moments…

  First, my Coop learned how ugly a hangover can be, to date, something I haven’t even suffered. Then she experienced some very unpleasant bathroom time (oh, heavens, so unpleasant) while Knuckles held her hair and I made something called Hair of the Dog with Goose’s instruction. Thereafter, she’d decided alcohol wasn’t for her.

  Thank gracious, too. Not that I mind the occasional glass of wine, but I do know a thing or two about addiction, if you’ll recall, and I’m glad that’s something Coop won’t suffer.

  This latest obsession with makeup was enough to keep up with—if I’d had to deal with something bigger than mascara and pore reducer (of which, mind you, Coop hasn’t a single pore), I’m not sure I would have survived.

  But I’m here to tell you, she’s as gifted at applying makeup as she is at creating a stunning tattoo. Her knack for anything creative translates to her face and highlights her artistic flair.

  Anyway, when she found out Mitzy would be in the Portland area for a meet and greet, there was no way Coop, who’d begun making a pretty good living since word got around about her famous tattoos, would miss purchasing the VIP package.

  An all-inclusive evening with Mitzy.

  Drinks—which, as I said, Coop planned to avoid for eternity—a free makeup session and color consultation, a swag bag full of Glitzy Mitzy swag, and a picture with Mitzy herself in a private setting, all on tap for tonight after the event.

  Coop was beside herself with unmitigated joy. I, on the other hand, not as much. Don’t get me wrong, I love that Coop’s found an outlet for expression that doesn’t include anything dangerous—though, I have seen her watch, with great fascination, some skydiving videos recently—but makeup doesn’t give me the contact high it does Coop.

  I am, however, a daggone good guinea pig when she wants to try a new look. According to her, I have the kind of coloring that allows for a varied palette of complementary colors. That’s also why I’m wearing false eyelashes tonight (falsies, for any newbs like me out there) as long and fluttery as butterfly wings, because I want to support my Coop, and I want to encourage her to live her best life.

  I’d just like to do it without my vision quite so impaired—these eyelashes are like moth’s wings on top of my eyelids. But Coop insisted we gussy up for her idol. So with her help, I’d gussied up and practiced my squee.

  I even put on lipliner and red lipstick—Blood of Thine Enemies is what it’s called, if you must know. I hope Higgs recognizes me when he meets us afterward for a late dinner date, because I don’t look anything like the tinted-Chapstick-wearing Trixie he knows.

  Thinking of Higgs made me smile. We’d come a long way in these last months since he found out about the demon inside me and that his dog, and my owl, talk.

  A long, long way.

  A hushed rumble in the crowd and a sudden ripple of movement had Coop grabbing my hand, her palm strangely clammy. Very unlike her normally cool facade.

  “Mitzy’s coming soon. Do you think she’ll like me, Trixie?” she muttered, licking her full lips and shaking out her hands.

  I grinned at her and took her hand in mine, giving it a squeeze. My gentle demon was nervous, and it was adorable. If they hated my Coopie, it would be because she’s drop dead gorgeous. Though, to her credit, she never seemed to notice the jealousy in other women, and I wasn’t going to start pointing it out to her now.

  Brushing her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear, I said, “Who wouldn’t like you, Coop? First, you’re like a walking Glitzy Mitzy billboard—her signature squee and all. Not to mention, you’ve lined her pockets by purchasing every single bit of merch she sells.” I pointed to her hoodie, which read I’m a Glitzy Ditzy. “You’re funny and smart and absolutely gorgeous. You’re the total package. If she doesn’t like you, she needs to have her head examined.”

  Coop’s shoulders lifted and a heavy sigh escaped her perfectly glossed lips. “I hope that’s true. I don’t want to disappoint her, and I definitely don’t want to have my head examined.”

  All this talk of disappointment worried me. Coop wasn’t terribly insecure, so I wasn’t sure where this was coming from. In fact, I prayed Glitzy Mitzy didn’t disappoint Coop.

  I’d read an online article or five about how snippy she could sometimes be with the people who worked for her—not to mention the infamous Twitter wars she was often caught up in.

  Though, to be fair, the argumentative tweets had originated from some rival makeup gurus, Bessie Carr, Ames Snarles and infamous tea spillers—also what’s known as drama vloggers—Teesha, from Hot Tea with Teesha, and Octavia, from Dish and Makeup.

  Are you wondering what a tea spiller is? I did, too, when Coop first used the term. Tea is gossip, and when you reveal the gossip it’s called spilling the tea, and when the gossip is particularly delicious, it’s called scalding-hot tea.

  That’s what Teesha’s videos entail, all the juicy gossip about all the social media influencers.

  Anyway, it was a pretty cutthroat world in the land of makeup, leaving me endlessly surprised when Coop discussed the infighting at what we’d dubbed our family dinners with Knuckles, Goose, and Higgs.

  Coop tugged at my freezing-cold fingers and hitched her jaw. “The line’s moving, Trixie Lavender. We’ll be inside soon. I find I’m shook.”

  My lips thinned and I cocked my head, my damp hair getting caught on my high gloss lips. “Shook?” I asked on a shiver as I looked at the sea of heads in front of us.

  Coop had learned a lot of new words since she’d become so active on social media, and it was becoming hard to keep up.

  She patted my arm as though I were her doddering old grandmother. “It sort of means excited, but not really. I think.” Coop frowned then shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. I only know Mitzy uses it to describe how she feels in a lot of different situations.”

  Aha. Interesting. I hooked my arm through hers and bounced on the balls of my feet. “I’m excited for you, Coopie. I’m glad you invited me.”

  But she shook her head and narrowed her gaze. “I don’t believe a word you’re saying. You think all this is silly. Every time I tell you about it, you have to make an effort not to roll your eyes.”

  I winced. Okay, maybe I thought it was a little silly, but only because some of the drama associated with something as nonessential to one’s breathing as makeup astounded me.

  I made a face at her as the rain began to come down harder, pinging the top of our umbrella with a vicious spatter of drops. “Correction, missy. I think the arguments surrounding the makeup experts are silly. I don’t think your love of Mitzy is silly at all. I think it’s sweet how devoted you are to her, and the care you take learning her techniques because they ‘give you life.’”

  Yet another of Coop’s freshly acquired colloquialisms. A lot of things “gave her life” these days.

  Coop narrowed her eyes and was about to say something when suddenly we were at the security checkpoint, handing over our purses and phones to be
scanned on a conveyor belt along with a full body check via wand.

  The security guards—big, beefy gentleman—went through my purse with a fine-toothed comb before they had me show them the lining of the pockets on my jacket and my jeans.

  Geez Louise. I don’t know that I ever thought Mitzy was this popular. Sure, I knew she had millions of followers, but this mob scene? I guess I underestimated the power of Mitzy’s glitz.

  As we were allowed access to the gargantuan room, my eyes widened. Not only was it packed wall to wall, but it was beautifully decorated. There had to be at least five hundred fans here.

  Throngs of people milled about, all glammed up; there were teens with their mothers, and even a few with their obviously reluctant fathers trailing behind them, as well as adults.

  What I assumed were other local makeup gurus, judging by how fabulous their makeup and outfits were, had shown up, too, sweeping across the hall floor with their fans following in rabid succession behind them.

  Lavender and silver balloons, Mitzy’s signature colors, made up an enormous archway under a filmy gauze silk and tulle confection where some of her fans were gathering for pictures, sitting on a throne similar to the very throne Mitzy sat upon in her vids. A big lavender and silver cushiony chair with plated arms and a high back with a swirly design.

  There were rows of high-top tables covered in lavender tablecloths and some sparkly glitter scattered all over, with silver-embossed bags stuffed full of what I presumed was swag, covered every square inch of the tables’ surfaces.

  Big-screen televisions featuring life-size still shots of Mitzy flashed in all their glitzy glam, with the makeup goddess in various poses all around the world, showing off the fruits of her labor. Loud music played, colored lights flashed, and the crowd hummed with anticipation.