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“This is great,” Marco said, beaming like he’d won the lottery. “Do you think you could come over to my house some night to check the place out?”
Adorable Marco Andreotti, newbie on the block, was inviting me over to his house. At night. To hunt ghosts.
I had to adjust the way I was sitting to keep from embarrassing myself.
“I would be honored to investigate the paranormal activity at your house,” I told him, forcing myself to be as serious as the grave to stop from acting like a high school boy with a crush on the new kid.
“Great,” Marco said, letting out a breath. “Like I said, it’s just around the corner. Where do you live? I can give you the street number, and hopefully it won’t take too long to drive there.”
“I live here,” I said, gesturing to the room in general.
“You live in the funeral parlor?” Marco’s eyes went wide again.
“Technically, I live in the apartment upstairs,” I said.
“That’s so cool!”
I couldn’t believe it. If I had a dime for every time I’d been out on a date with a guy and mentioned I lived with dead people only to have him ditch me and not ask for a second date, I could fund the deluxe funeral package all on my own.
“I’ve lived here since I finished high school,” I explained. “My parents have a house nearby where I grew up.”
“So you’re a local?” Marco looked interested in that, too.
“Glenside born and raised,” I said. Not that I felt like I was a part of anything. Weird kids didn’t get invited to birthday parties or asked to join the Chamber of Commerce.
“I’d love for someone to show me around town,” Marco went on. “I’m really new here, and, well, I haven’t had a ton of time to meet my neighbors and integrate into the place.”
I felt like there was a story behind that, but I didn’t want to blow my chance all in one go by being too overeager.
“Sounds like your best bet is to get to know your local poltergeist before learning about the rest of the neighborhood,” I said.
Marco smiled widely at that, like I’d said something brilliant. “Exactly,” he laughed. Something buzzed, and he flinched, like he’d been stung, then pulled a phone out of his back pocket. He tapped it a few times, then said, “Rats. I need to get back to the shop. An order has just come in and I need to unpack it.”
He stood, and I stood with him.
“It was great to meet you, Bastian,” he said, holding out his hand to me.
“Likewise,” I said. “And I’ll gladly come over and check your house out this weekend.”
“Perfect,” he said. “Let’s exchange phone numbers.”
I grabbed my phone from my desk and we added each other to our contacts. After that, Marco had to rush back to his shop. I walked him to the door, then stood there for way too long as he crossed the street.
“See you Saturday!” he called back to me, narrowly avoiding being hit by a Lexus as he reached the other side of the street.
I raised a hand to wave, then realized I was smiling like a fool. I almost didn’t care, though. Not only had Marco Andreotti not thought I was a freak, he’d invited me over for ghosts. The Halloween season couldn’t have been better if I’d scripted it myself.
CHAPTER 3
Marco
Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. I was finally going to get to the bottom of my haunted house worries. But more than that, Bastian Gorman was coming over. Beautiful, tall, eclectic Bastian Gorman.
We’d coordinated the whole thing via text over the last few days. Bastian would bring all his various ghost hunting equipment to the house just after dark, which was, conveniently, right around supper time these days. Neither of us had said anything specific about supper itself, but let’s face it, I was me, and that meant food.
By the time six-thirty rolled around and Bastian knocked on the door, the kitchen table was filled with a charcuterie platter, a large bowl of pasta with marinara sauce, baked sweet potatoes with a variety of toppings, and roasted chicken with an herbed crust. My mouth watered as I checked to make sure the spread was perfect, but honestly, that might have been because of the guest and not the food.
Bastian knocked again, and Polo responded with a quick bark which I’m sure was designed to snap me out of my excitement and prompt me to go answer the door.
