Alain’s head appears in the doorway. “Alban, what the hell are you doing?”
“Nothing!”
“Did he tell you that you’re amazing and we want you to stay?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. That’s good. Thank you for not screwing up, you dumb potion-pusher.”
“Alain!” Alban whirls to face his cousin, his face taut with anger.
“Potion-pusher?” I ask. “Like... Witch’s brew?”
“No! No, no. I mean... Alban’s on a health kick lately. He’s always pushing people to try his new green wheatgrass smoothies,” Alain babbles. “Health potions. I thought maybe he was trying to convince you to get one.”
“Oh, I could use something healthy this morning,” I murmur, rubbing my temples.
“I’ll go get you one of my green smoothies. From The Pine Loft.” He glares daggers at Alain.
“No, no. I’ll go.” Alain seems happy to flee.
“What’s up with him?” I ask.
Alban rolls his eyes. “He left his brain in his briefcase, that’s all. I hope he didn’t upset you. I would never try to get my employees to change their diet or drink anything they didn’t want.”
“It’s cool, really. A healthy smoothie instead of a firing? I’ll take that any day.”
“Why would you get fired?” Alban asks, getting up.
“For being late.”
“Ten whole minutes one time? I’m not anevilwarlock.”
That’s the second time in five minutes that magic has come up in the conversation. I’m taking it as a sign. “Do you believe in magic? The supernatural?”
Alban is silent. Alain stops by the front door, his keys in his hand and his sunglasses now perched on his forehead. “Oh. There are lots of things you can’t explain in the world. Seems like a lot of them happen in small towns like Pine Ridge,” he says.
I may be hungover, but I’m well aware that his answer is more like a non-answer.
“Doyou?” Alain asks.
“Um. Well. No, not exactly, but I’m open to the possibility of ghosts. I was wondering if my apartment might be haunted.”
“Where do you live?” Both men ask in unison.
“Why?” I have to laugh at their twin cries and expressions. “Some buildings in town are known to be haunted, and some aren’t?”
“You could say that. I remember now, you live at the apartments across from campus. Not far from the River House.”
“That’s right.”
“Nothing haunted in that building—that I know of. That I’ve ever heard about,” Alban fumbles over his words.
“Is it a nice ghost?” Alain asks sharply.
“Guys, I don’t know! I thought you’d tell me I was imagining things!”
“Oh. Ha ha!” Alain laughs. “Oh, right. I mean, you could be.”
