“Like I said, I’m only telling you so that you know.”
I bristled. “Like I said, I don’t go looking for trouble. Spirits come to me. If they can’t come to me, I don’t search them out.”
Mostly true. Otherwise I wouldn’t be looking for Lucky Strike, now would I?
Roan tossed the bottles in a nearby trash and grabbed his guitar. “It was nice sharing a brew with you, Blissful.”
A coy smile curled my lips. I glanced up into his brown eyes. My stomach quivered. “Thanks for sharing.”
“Maybe we can do it again.”
A violet-colored tendril of hair snagged my eyelash. Before I could move it, Roan brushed it from my face. The heat from his fingertips made my throat seize.
The best answer I could muster form his suggestion to have a drink again was, “Maybe. Good night.”
With that, I turned and left, letting the cold night air rip through me.
I awokethe next morning to the sound of my cell phone blaring. I glanced at the clock.
Ten a.m.
Apparently I’d slept in. I was usually up and out by seven or eight, but with the late nights I’d been experiencing in Haunted Hollow, and the fact that it felt like I was on an extended vacation, I seemed to have no trouble snoozing like a god.
But my lackadaisical attitude came to a screaming halt when I saw the name flashing on my phone.
ANITA TUCKER.
“Crap on a stick. What does she want?”
Should I let it go to voice mail? What if she was calling to grovel? Tell me that she’d made a horrible mistake. She never should’ve slept with my dad’s boss to get the job. She was so, so sorry and regretted suspending me. I could have my old job back, with a raise. Oh, and she’d go jump off a cliff.
“Hello?” I said, unable to mask the innocent optimism in my voice.
“What is going on up there?”
The outrage in Anita’s voice made me bolt up. “What’re you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that I read something about some ghost catchers at a funeral parlor. I see a picture and you’re in the paper. Thepaper, Blissful. No one’s supposed to know about what you do. Are you spouting off about the Ghost Team, too? Telling everyone you meet what we do?” She paused, took a breath. “Because if I find out that’s true, I will haul your butt in here and fire you permanently like I should have to begin with.”
Oh, the audacity of this little Frick-a-Frack. “You don’t want me to tell someone like you told Xavier Bibb?”
The line went silent.
Oh crap. Good job, Blissful. Go ahead and blow your hand. While I’m at it, why don’t I ask Anita to roll down her pants and bend over so I could smooch her lily-white rear end?
Ugh. Even I had places I feared to tread.
Her voice changed. It became lower, hushed. “What are you talking about?”
“Xavier Bibb knew who I was. Knew all about the Ghost Team. What did you do, meet him at a fan conference, sleep with him and start spewing secrets? You’re not supposed to tell about it, either, Anita. Or have you forgotten?”
She didn’t say anything. I had her. I knew I did. I needed her off my back, or at least get Anita to cool her heels about the picture in the paper.
“So why don’t you just leave me alone, huh?” I brushed my tangled hair from my face. “I won’t tell anyone about what Xavier said to me, and you shove that paper in the trash. How does that work?”
She huffed. “I can try. I don’t know if it’ll work. My boss gets wind of it and he’ll have me in his office in no time flat.”
Don’t you mean flat on your backside?
