Laura reached over and tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear. “I worry about you all alone in Mom and Dad’s house. Since they went RVing and Jami’s away at college, you’re alone in that tiny town. Move here to D.C. There’s lots going on.”
My frown deepened the more she spoke.
“I’m a country girl. I understand the appeal of city life, but . . .” I picked at my fingernail and shrugged. Admitting something I never even told her before, and I always told her everything, like TMI everything, was going to be difficult. “I enjoy walking the trails of the mountains back in Castle Ridge. I would miss that. It’s too busy here, too noisy, and way too expensive.”
She nodded because I believed my sister secretly missed Castle Ridge, Virginia, too. She lived in Washington, D.C. with her boyfriend so she could work for his father in some fancy restaurant.
My sister had a career. She was a chef. I had jobs because working for the man wasn’t my thing. Especially when the man was a dickhole who had a dickhole of a son who cheated on my sister.
She ignored my cries about his philandering. No matter what I said, she assumed the best in people, even her jerk boyfriend.
“Is Dickhole here, oops . . . I mean Beau?”
Her green eyes jerked around, refusing to focus on me. She stood on the other side of the Dutch door with the lower half blocking her legs, but I knew she was tapping her foot.
“I know you don’t like Beau, but if you just got to know him a little better—”
I snorted. “Oh, I know what he’s like. I just don’t think you do.”
She sighed and pretended to straighten her perfect hair.
“I can’t talk about this, Julia. I’m at work. The guests should arrive soon for the ball. All you have to do is take their coats and hand them a ticket. They’re rich, so they’ll tip well.”
Now it was time for me to purse my lips as I eyed my sister.
“Fine. Maybe not big tips, but they will tip.”
I continued to stare.
“Okay, fine, I lied. Rich people are stingy jerks. But some will tip, so you will make more than the hourly wage. Besides, I heard that a VidTube star you like will be here, Jake James. Is that his name?”
My eyes widened. Now my interest was piqued.
“It’s Joke’in James. His videos are hilarious. I’ll take his coat anytime.” I winked.
She smiled for the first time that evening, and I was glad. My sister was stressed all the time, and she needed some fun in her life. I only took the coat check job so I could spend some time with her. Come up to D.C. for a girls’ weekend. Even if it meant rich people threw their mothballed coats and cruelty-filled furs at me.
Also, the money didn’t hurt. I never had a steady job, so I needed the cash.
But I missed my sister. A billion dollars couldn’t keep me away from her.
“I have to get back to prepping the dishes.” She grabbed my hand and with a soft smile said, “I love you, Julia. You’re my best friend and sister . . . Don’t tell Jami. I want you to get serious. You can have fun anytime, but when you’re at work, it’s work. Okay?”
I nodded. She was right. I wasn’t sixteen anymore; I was thirty. Maybe it was time to think about a career. A fun one, like beer tester or a park ranger or something.
I made a mental note to look into cool, fun jobs when I got home.
“I promise. I’ll work so hard tonight, these people will talk about my skills for years. They’ll be nostalgic for that amazing coat-taker for years to come!”
“Good. I’ll see you later.” She waved and walked down the hall.
They held the Jingle Ball in one of those old, grand hotels built in the early eighteen-hundreds. I wasn’t joking about Dolly Madison haunting it. The place probably had lots of ghosts, which made walking farther back into the dark closet less appealing.
The closet was a compact room with several racks filled with wooden hangers, mainly because the rich didn’t approve of wire. In the back, it extended to the corner. There was a miniscule hallway. I could see a hint of it, but the hallway disappeared into darkness.
A chill went up my spine as I wondered if it led to a room where bodies were stashed in the olden days. There were always hidden rooms and entrances in these types of places—at least from what I had seen on Ghost Nation. I loved that show and secretly wanted to stay in one of the old haunted buildings they explored. That would be a cool, fun career . . .
As I imagined what sort of ghosts would haunt The Benjamin, another noise came from the back of the closet. This time, it was loud and clear.
“I knew it.” I leaned out the Dutch door, but my sister had disappeared.
It was up to me to find the ghost. I swallowed and pressed my hands down the front of my thick navy sweater with the hole in the back of the neck. My sister complained about the old sweater, but she was happy I wore a skirt. I broke out my festive reindeer skirt. It was frilly and fun and perfect for a holiday ball.
I wiped my hands on my outfit, but they kept sweating.
“It’s okay, Julia. You got this. It’s just a ghost. What’s the worst that could happen? It could fly through me. It couldn’t kill me. Right?”
I nibbled my lip, wondering if ghosts had the power to kill.
I scanned the wall for lights and found one dingy lamp that sat on a stool near the small hall. Once I switched it on, I could see the hall ran only about five feet, and there was a small door. It was short and wide, and if I were to go through it, I’d be forced to bend over.
The worn, wooden floor creaked as I took each step, adding to my uneasiness.
“Just big enough to push bodies through,” I whispered to myself as I frantically glanced around for something to protect myself against the spirits. I needed some holy water or a cross or garlic.
All I found leaning against the green wall was one of those big, rectangular snow shovels. Even the paint looked old, like it might still contain lead.
I grabbed the shovel and hid it behind my back. This ghost won’t see me coming.
There was another noise, but it came from out in the hotel's hallway. Probably someone walking by. Despite where it came from, I jumped and shrieked, causing the shovel to hit the door.
“Get it together, Julia,” I mumbled to myself and took a deep breath.
A sudden bang came from the other side of the small door. Instead of jumping and fleeing, I stood still, frozen in fear.
If a horror film ever came to life, I’d be one of the first idiots who got killed. You know, the part where people yell at them to run. I was killer bait.
Yet I reached for that old brass doorknob. My hand shook, and as I was doing it, I kept asking myself why. Why am I such a fool? Why am I opening the door for whatever murderous ghost is on the other side? And why is a ghost knocking?
I pushed the door open and stood in the doorway. The room was pitch-black, and I couldn’t see a thing, not even my foot in front of me.
I squinted and asked, “Hello? Is someone there?”
There was nothing. I turned my head and thought I saw movement, so I took a step farther inside, the shovel still behind my back.
The door closed behind me, and the room was engulfed in black once again.
That’s when I heard a muffled voice. “Oh, no, we’re trapped.”
“No,” I yelled as I realized the closet was haunted.
I dropped the shovel, turned, and felt for the door. It was there but no doorknob. What sort of fire-code violating, old-timey crap was this? No doorknob?
Trapped. In a pitch-black room. And worst of all, with a ghost.
“I’m afraid so . . . I’ve been here a long time. Ages, it seems . . .”
“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit,” I whisper-screamed.
“It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”
“You, uh . . . you won’t?” I tried my best to hold back my tears.
Not all ghosts were evil. Perhaps he was a cool ghost. Maybe he was a rocker from the sixties a
nd died from partying too hard. Maybe he hung around because he wasn’t ready for the party to end. The whole live-fast-die-young sort of guy.
I rubbed my arms and nodded. Yeah, that was it. Please, let that be it.
“No. I would never do that to anyone. I’m just looking to leave. My brother trapped me in here in what feels like forever ago, and all I want to do is get out.”
Now I felt terrible. His own brother killed him. He probably starved to death in here. Forgotten by the world. That was horrific. Thank goodness Laura wasn’t here, or she’d start blubbering.
“I’m so sorry. Just know that you aren’t alone. Do you see a light? If you see a light, walk toward it.”
“Do you see a light?”
What? Why would I see a light?
“No, of course not. I’m not dead.”
Perhaps if I told him the truth, he’d be more willing to cross over. That might be the best move here.
“I would hope not. I didn’t think dead people could open doors,” he said with a chuckle.
I liked his laugh. It was warm and deep and rumbled across my chest, hardening my nipples.
Ewww. Was I getting turned on by a ghost? Maybe I should see a therapist, like many of my exes had suggested.
“No, but living people can, like me.”
I heard movement, and then his voice grew louder, like he was right in front of me. “You can get us out of here?”
“No, what? I meant that I am alive, and you are—” The words died on my lips as I gasped.
I had reached out, and my fingers touched something. It was warm, a little smooth, but felt like hair on skin. Then it moved.
“That’s my nipple.”
I jumped and stumbled back, landing on some boxes. “Holy moly, you’re alive!”
Chapter 3
Monty
“YES, I’M ALIVE. WAIT . . . did you think I was dead? Like a ghost?” I asked as I placed my hand on my now hardening nipple.
“Uh, nope. Totally knew you were alive this whole time,” she said with a grunt. I heard some things move and wondered if she had walked into the boxes like I had earlier.
“Watch out for the boxes. There’s a lot of them in here.”
“I gathered. So, if you aren’t a ghost, which I will deny to my grave that I ever thought you were, then why are you in here?”
Rubbing my forehead, I knew I couldn’t tell her everything about me being in this storage room. Especially not the whole naked part. She would freak out if she knew she was trapped in here with a naked man.
James would find it even more hilarious than his ridiculous plan for me to streak the Jingle Ball. As much as he would taunt me, he wouldn’t leave a stranger stuck in here. He was happy to mess with me, but not anyone outside the family.
“When my brother comes back, he’ll let us out. Once he knows you’re here, he’ll open the door.”
There was silence. It was weird being in a room with someone I couldn’t see, knowing I was naked, but they didn’t. It made the silence unnerving.
“You never answered my question.”
No, I didn’t. I was hoping thoughts of my brother rescuing us would distract her. I was wrong.
“Oh, you know . . .thought this place looked interesting and walked inside. Now I can’t get out.”
She hummed but never said a word.
“Like I said, once my brother gets back, he’ll get us out, and all will be good. In fact, I’ll let you out first. You don’t even have to look at me if you don’t want to. Just leave and pretend this never happened.”
Did James leave more ribbon? Maybe I could fashion a dick and ball cozy. If she looked once we got out, I’d say it was part of the costume I was changing into.
That would be a weird costume. God, nothing about the situation was right. I couldn’t even cover my junk without it appearing creepy.
“Why hasn’t he let you out already? You said he trapped you in here. Why?”
I laughed. A huge, guttural, nervous laugh. No matter how I put it, there wasn’t an answer that didn’t appear strange and pervy.
“Now you’re making me nervous.”
That’s not what I wanted to do.
“Look, it’s complicated. And strange. And if you knew my brother, it would make sense, but you don’t. At least, I don’t think you do. Anyway, he thought it would be funny to trap me in here.”
I left the naked part out for obvious reasons.
“Seems a little juvenile to me. I’d never do that to my sister. Sure, I replaced her perfume with apple cider vinegar mixed with pickle juice once, but that was when we were teenagers.”
“Where’s your sister? Does she live around here?”
“Yes. She lives in D.C. with her sleezy boyfriend. She’s here tonight, but she works in the kitchen. She won’t be back until this is over. No chance of her rescuing me. I hope she doesn’t think I flaked on the job . . . again.”
“You don’t live in D.C.?”
“No. I, uh . . . live outside it. Not much of a city girl.”
That’s different. At least from the women I had met. Most of them couldn’t fathom living away from a city.
“Most of the women I’ve met love the city. I wonder if some of them ever stepped foot off the concrete and onto grass. I once asked a girlfriend to go camping with me, and she wondered if it was like glamping.”
“Glamping. What’s that?”
“That’s what I asked, too. You bring all the luxuries of home to the great outdoors. She wanted me to construct a bed in the woods, mattress and all.”
I heard a snort followed by laughter. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory.
“We never went camping together.”
“You mean glamping.”
We both burst into laughter. It took a minute and me wiping at my tears, but I finally caught my breath.
“Yeah, we didn’t last long.”
“Does your brother work here? That’s why I’m here. My sister got me the job of a coat check person. It’s not glamorous like glamping, but it helps pay the bills.”
My eyes shifted to where I thought the door was, praying James would choose that moment to open it. But nothing happened.
I didn’t want to tell her anything about me. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her. She seemed to have a sense of humor, and her willingness to keep asking me questions meant she was sharp. Someone I’d like to know outside of a dark closet, which was exactly why I couldn’t tell her my name.
If she, no . . . when she discovered I was naked with her the whole time, she’d never want anything to do with Monty Diaz.
“Yeah, I’m working it too. I’m playing Santa. That’s why I was in here to change, but then my brother thought it’d be funny to lock me in.” I cringed as I gave her a blatant lie.
“I thought I read on the brochure it wasn’t a Santa but a non-denominational-festive-season person. The picture they had looked like if Santa had sex with one of his reindeer and Glinda the Good Witch got in on the action.”
I chuckled. “You’re right. I just didn’t want to have to say all that, so I shortened it to Santa.”
There was silence again, and something about it felt uneasy. Like I had to watch my back.
That’s when I felt her hand. It was on my cock.
She yelled, and the hand moved away as quickly as it landed.
“Are there sausage-shaped things hanging on your costume?”
Lie, Monty! Lie like you’ve never lied before! My brain scrambled to come up with something convincing. But the more I thought of anything remotely believable, the more I felt like I would throw up.
“Yes . . . and no.”
“What? I couldn’t hear you?”
That was the reason I mumbled my response: “It’s hard to explain.”
It was easy to explain; I just didn’t want to freak her out. And the more I lied, the worse I felt.
“It’s not really that hard to explain clothing. Like me, I’m wearing a navy sw
eater and a skirt with little reindeer all over it since it’s a holiday ball. Also, I’ve got on my scuffed-up green high-tops that match my skirt. There, now, your turn.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and knew there was no way out. At some point, she would discover I was naked. Would it be worse if she found out at the end, realizing she was stuck in a dark closet with a naked stranger this whole time? Or if I was honest with her right now?
Either way, she was stuck. Either way, I was stuck.
“It’s the wearing part that’s the problem for me.” I cupped my balls, even though she couldn’t see them.
“Is the costume too big or small?”
“Nope. It’s the costume itself. I made that part up.”
Silence stretched for what felt like hours. I wanted to say something, to reassure the woman I wouldn’t hurt her. That I would keep my distance from her. But I kept silent too. Maybe she hadn’t figured it out. Maybe she was quiet because she hated talking.
Or maybe being trapped in here was causing me to go insane.
“Yes or no. Are you wearing clothing? That includes underwear.”
She knew.
“No.”
“Okay. That’s okay. We all like to walk around naked from time to time. I usually do it in my home, but if dark closets are your thing, I won’t judge.”
I knew she’d think I was weird.
“Like I said, I was trapped in here. Some of what I told you was true. My brother told me I had to change into the Santa costume, I mean, the non-denominational-festive-season-person costume. He told me to undress in here, and he’d get me the costume. He never did, and he took my clothes.”
“Then what’s on your dick?”
I frowned. Why did I think wrapping my dick up in ribbon would improve the situation?
“Festive ribbon.”
There was silence again for a moment. I thought she was crying when I heard a few sniffles. I was about to ease her fears when I realized she wasn’t crying but laughing. Her chuckling grew to wheezing, along with a few snorts, which grew louder.
Surprising the Billionaire with a Baby (Blue Ridge Mountain Billionaires Book 2) Page 2