by Lexi Post
Cameron motioned her forward. “No worries.” He looked at the woman sitting in the chair before his desk. “You were just leaving, correct?”
The woman rose gracefully. “Yes, I was. Thank you for the advice.” Then without turning, she phased and disappeared through the floor.
Jessica hesitated at the woman’s disappearance then walked forward.
“Still getting used to phasing?” Cameron smiled encouragingly.
She shook her head. “Not me, but seeing others do it.”
“That’s normal.”
She studied her new boss. He was about her age with sandy-brown hair that fell across his forehead but was cut short above the ears. He had hazel eyes, a narrow nose, and shoulders to rival Duncan Montgomerie’s. Despite the sleeveless t-shirt he wore, which made him look like a bouncer, his smile was friendly and not condescending, like another spirit she knew.
“Mr. Douglas, I’m Jessica Thomas. I was assigned your wife’s case.”
He walked out from behind his desk. “Yes, I know who you are.” He reached out his hand. “Call me Cameron. Welcome.”
She shook his hand, and when he gestured to the chair recently vacated by the other spirit, she sat. “Thank you. I wanted to talk to you about this case.”
He raised his brows at her as if she’d taken him by surprise. “I’m confused. Didn’t you discuss it with Duncan?”
His assumption that Duncan had filled her in bothered her. “About Duncan.”
Cameron turned and returned to his seat behind his desk. “What about Duncan?” Her boss’s smile disappeared.
Not a good sign. “I was wondering if I could be given a different mentor.”
“No.”
“No? Why not?”
Cameron sat back in his chair. “Duncan is the oldest and best Spirit Guide trainer I have. I chose him because I wanted the best for my wife; however, trainers are not allowed to serve as Spirit Guides, so I chose you out of our new recruits. Duncan is who I want on this case. Would you prefer to be given another one?”
He would take her off his wife’s case? That would mean she’d failed before she’d even begun. “No, no. I would like to help your wife. Perhaps you can fill me in a bit more?” She held up the file. “This appears to be a bit sparse.”
Cameron leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Jessica, but that’s Duncan’s job. I have a lot to do here and I assigned you to him to insure this assignment would be handled successfully. So if you don’t want another assignment then I suggest you find Duncan and talk to him about my wife’s file. That’s his job.”
“Oh, I see.” She didn’t. Not really.
“Good. I look forward to hearing how well everything goes.” Cameron turned his attention back to his desk and started writing on a piece of paper.
Obviously dismissed, Jessica rose and nodded at him, but he didn’t look up. Great, not only was she stuck with Mr. Distraction and a file of no information, but she’d pissed off her boss. Good start. She turned and walked toward the door.
“Oh and Jessica.”
She spun. “Yes?”
“When you see Duncan, give him a message for me.”
“Of course.” Maybe this was a chance to redeem herself a bit.
“Tell him my team won and he owes me three beers.”
Really? He wanted her to deliver a message about a bet?
He grinned at her, making him look a whole lot younger than she’d first thought. Men.
Too angry to speak, she nodded and turned back to the door, closing it decisively. If he thought she slammed it, that was his interpretation. The chances of her delivering his message were about one in a hundred million. A nagging piece of conscience reminded her he was her supervisor. But really, how important could a bet be? Cameron may be her boss, but she wasn’t his errand girl.
She skipped going back to her office and headed for home. There had to be another way to learn more about Holly before they started the case. With time at her disposal, she might just have to bop on down to see Holly…without Duncan Montgomerie. Or was that allowed?
* * * * *
Duncan sauntered into Cameron’s office and sat, crossing his legs at his ankles. “I have to thank you.”
His friend smiled and rose before walking to a side bar. “Scotch?”
Duncan nodded.
Cameron poured a splash of water into two glasses and then filled the glasses three-quarters full. Picking them up, he handed one to Duncan before sitting on the corner of his desk.
Duncan raised his glass. “To women.”
“To the right woman.”
Duncan grinned at their regular toast and took a sip. There was nothing like good Scotch.
“So what are you thanking me for this time? Did you fall in love with a new recruit?”
Duncan laughed. “No’ likely, but I will admit to falling in bed with a couple.”
Cameron shook his head. “Two at a time isn’t going to find you the one.”
Duncan shrugged and looked away. That would never happen. He’d accepted that fact while he was still alive. The truth was, he couldn’t love beyond those he’d been born to, like his parents and brother. He just didn’t have it in him. “But my new mentee has definite possibilities. She’s a bonny one for sure.”
“So if it’s not love, what do you have to thank me for?”
He grinned again at the memory of his conversation with Jessica Thomas. “Jessica. That woman will be quite the challenge. It’s obvious she thinks she knows what to do and I think she may have slept through my trainings.”
Cameron took a sip of his drink. “Funny you should say that. She was just in here asking for a new mentor.”
Duncan spit his sip. A bloody waste of liquor. “What? I wasn’t even trying to get her into bed yet.” His ego as a trainer took the blow hard. “Did she say why she wants a new mentor?”
“No. I wouldn’t let her. You’re the only one I trust with this visit, so she’s stuck with you. You may want to handle her differently than you did. I don’t want this assignment screwed up. Maybe you should turn on that legendary charm of yours.”
Duncan raised an eyebrow. “I won’t let her mess this assignment up. I’ll fix her mistakes and everything will go well.” He looked his friend in the eye. “Cameron, I won’t let anything get in the way of your wife’s happiness. You have my word.”
His friend and boss looked down at his glass before swirling around the liquid and taking a sizeable gulp. The man’s sadness was like a cloud about him. When he brought the glass back down, he continued to stare at it. “I appreciate that. She deserves it.”
Duncan took another swallow of his own drink to push down the lump in his throat. He was more determined than ever to help Cameron’s wife.
Cameron looked at him. “So what did you do to piss her off?”
He snapped his head up. “I dinna ken.”
“Don’t know, not ken.”
“Blast.” He finished off his Scotch. “The language of your time is too harsh.” He pulled at the neckline of his t-shirt. “And the clothes are stifling.”
Cameron finished his drink and stood. “Holly is used to kilts, so you can change into yours after the first visit or two. I’m hoping your accent and Jessica’s experience will put her at ease.”
“We will help dispel some of her grief. Dinna worry about that.” Though who would help Cameron was another matter entirely. He smirked to lighten the mood. “I’m sure once I have Jessica bending to my will, all will go according to our plan.”
“I don’t think she’s the type to be told what to do.”
Duncan winked. “Then I will just have to woo her to my way of thinking. I have been known to charm a lady or two…or score.”
Cameron looked at him quizzically. “Exactly how many women have you had sex with?”
Duncan shrugged before giving his friend a sly look. “Too many to count.”
“Get out of here.” His boss shook his head and returned to his chair, the paperwork on
his desk making Duncan cringe.
“As you wish.” He gave his friend a nod before he phased and floated through the roof, Cameron’s last question bothering him. Why did he ask?
Duncan would be the first to admit he enjoyed life. At a young age he’d discovered he would never have what Cameron had, though he’d tried, his heart always hoping, but by time he was a score and eight, he’d realized he simply didn’t have the ability to love a woman like that.
But there had been more to life than love and he had a brilliant life. That he was able to continue in the afterlife as he had with women, drink and his favorite pastimes was more than he’d hoped for.
And now he had a new woman in his sights. A bonny woman with emerald-green eyes, hair like spun gold, and based on his vast experience, he would wager a cask of single malt Scotch she had a body made for pleasure. Just the thought of kissing her rose-colored lips had him smiling with anticipation. Aye, he was anxious to lie with her and enjoy her feminine attributes.
“Jessica.” He even liked her name. It was soft with a hard edge and he’d bet a hundred pounds sterling that was exactly what she was like. He just needed to get beneath that edge.
He hesitated. She’d had a fiancé, which could be an issue. He had to respect her feelings on that. A lover he was, but he’d never come between two people who loved each other like Cameron and Holly.
He continued floating toward home. He didn’t like that she’d requested someone else. He’d been very patient with her. Maybe that was too subtle for her. Aye, that made sense. His best approach now was to be obvious. He would charm her into enjoying herself a bit with him, then they could work together to help Holly.
A new energy surged through him at the prospect of his challenge and he grinned. He couldn’t wait to discover every enjoyable nuance of Jessica’s being.
* * * * *
Holly Douglas closed the safe then turned off the lamp on her desk. It had been a long day of customers. As usual, Christmas Eve had seen her store packed from open to close and for the third year in a row, Mr. Branson had shown up just as she was about to lock the door. He took his usual half hour picking out the perfect ornament for his wife. It had to be an ornament with motion involved. He said it was because now that his wife had a scooter and electric wheelchair, she moved around even more than when she was younger.
She had to agree with the man. Mrs. Branson did seem to be out and about a lot more since she’d finally given up the walker two years ago. She would love the singing cardinal with the flapping wings he’d bought her. Holly could almost picture the older woman opening the gift-wrapped box. Of course, she had been so tired she’d cut the ribbon too short and had to start over. But it was a “holiday tired” as Cam always said.
She smiled sadly as she turned off the lights in the little shop and walked around her ceramic ornament display to the tapestry that hid the door to her home next door. It’d been their home just last year.
When everyone heard about Cam’s accident, they had been so kind, visiting her every day, bringing her food and company. Later, people invited her to watch the Old Firm Derby between the Rangers and the Celtic or to come to a local ceilidh. But as the year wore on, people became too busy with their own lives and their own challenges.
Except for Cam’s two best friends. Ethan and Brody had both remembered her. Brody had invited her to his flat where he was holding a Christmas Eve party with all their friends. Ethan had invited her to his parents’ house for Christmas day. Their invitations were just like them, completely different. Brody was like Cam, always ready to jump into another adventure while Ethan was cautious, weighing all the pros and cons before making a decision, yet the three of them had been inseparable since their university days.
She turned both offers down. She had a feeling they both sensed her hesitation to be around them. They reminded her too much of Cam and the good times they all had together. To be in their presence would be torture without him there.
She flicked the switch as she entered her little home. Mac jumped off the couch and stretched his feline body by digging his claws into the area rug before sauntering over to say hello.
“Did you miss me, sweetie?”
The cat insistently rubbed against her leg, arching his back as she gave him the mandatory stroke.
“Well, I didn’t have time to miss you. We were so busy today.” She moved to the side table by the door and dropped her keys. As she looked up into the mirror above it, she froze. Her late husband stood behind her. “Cam?”
She spun around, her heart beating a tattoo, but no one was there. She looked back at the mirror. Just her round face flushed by her scare stared back at her. “Good job, Holly, now you’re seeing things.”
With her adrenaline pumping overtime, she took a couple calming breaths and walked into the kitchen. It was nothing a cup of tea couldn’t soothe. She switched on the electric tea kettle and opened the refrigerator. She scanned the contents, ignoring the little Cornish hen she’d bought to cook for dinner the next day, and instead stared at the clootie dumpling Mrs. Bell had dropped off the day before. “That’s not exactly Christmas Eve dinner.”
Mac ignored her as he munched on his own dry food, his teeth crunching down on the hard pellets.
She dug deep for her willpower and forced her hand to move past the dessert to the container of leftover pasta from the night before. Scooping some onto a plate, she set it in the microwave for a minute.
Her family back in New Hampshire had pressured her to visit during the holidays. They didn’t want her to be alone so far away, but she just couldn’t bring herself to leave. Cam loved Christmas so much. To not be here where they had celebrated their only two Christmases as a married couple had just felt wrong. But her family wouldn’t have understood, so she told them she couldn’t get anyone to cover her shop. It was actually their shop. Cam had come up with the idea and the name “One of a Kind Christmas Shop.” She’d just implemented it. It was his brain child. The only child they had. Her living link to him…sort of.
The microwave binged, keeping her from going down the dark path her thoughts always traveled when remembering her late husband.
Pulling out her dinner, she set it on the table before pouring the hot water over a tea bag and letting it steep while she ate. When she was finished with her meal, she made her tea and headed into the parlor to turn on the Christmas lights. Setting her cup on the end table next to her comfy recliner, she went about flipping all the switches.
Finally, she turned on the gas fireplace. Walking back to her chair, she stared down at Mac, curled into a large ball in the middle of the cushion. “I don’t think so.” She bent over him. “You’re not fooling anybody. I know you’re not sleeping.”
The cat didn’t move a muscle, so she reached over and lifted her mug from the coaster. The cat’s ear twitched toward the sound. “I knew it.” Putting her cup back down, she picked him up and deposited him on Cam’s chair. “That’s your chair. You inherited it from Cam, so enjoy it.”
Once comfortable in her own spot, Holly took a sip of tea and critically reviewed her Christmas display. Just because Cam wasn’t with her anymore, didn’t mean she should change their decorating tradition. Ever since their first Christmas Eve five years earlier, they’d always decorated the main living room to the max. They’d both thought the same thing when they found this house three years ago, which was that with a ceiling so high, like in their shop next door, it meant lots of room for decorations. The room glowed with a pink hue from all the lights, while the firelight kept it moving.
The flames weren’t the only things moving. She had the electric train going around the tree, the various motion ornaments she’d kept instead of selling in the shop, and of course the blinking lights. Some moved in a continuous pattern, others stopped and started, and some simply changed from one color to the next. Her Santa’s Workshop on the bookcase was busy with elves working and even the electric candles in the windows flickered. There was only
one thing missing to complete the decorated room. The star.
She looked up at the top of the tree where the twelve-inch star belonged. Cam always placed the star on top. She’d tried every night for two weeks to put it up there, but started crying every time, so she gave up. She even put it back in its box and returned it to the closet. The fact was, she could pretend all she wanted, but Cam wasn’t here for Christmas. The room was his shrine, but he would never see it.
Holly’s chest tightened and she tried to take a deep breath to stop the inevitable tears, but it was no use. It just made her cough as her nose started to run. Why couldn’t she get through just one night without crying?
Because half her heart was buried six feet under.
The pain in her chest intensified and she doubled over, the sobbing starting all over again. Even as the tears flowed, her heart filled with hurt until she couldn’t breathe. If she’d known this would happen, this was how it would all turn out, she would never have smiled at Cameron Douglas that fateful day at the Highland Games in Lincoln.
Irritation raced through her veins. How could he die on her? He was only thirty-two. She felt robbed, cheated, betrayed. Holly sat upright as her chest eased but her stomach tensed with anger. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table, mad at Cam and at herself.
“Don’t cry, love.”
Chapter Two
At her husband’s voice, Holly stilled, swallowing the hiccup that threatened to interrupt the silence.
“I can’t stand to see you so sad.”
She turned her head toward the Christmas tree and blinked. Cameron Douglas stood in front of it in his blue- green-and-white kilt with love shinning in his eyes.
“Cam?” Her heart leapt with joy and she flew from the chair to hug him and found herself in the Christmas tree instead, a glass angel ornament digging into her cheek. Righting herself, she disengaged her hair from a reindeer before turning around, sure she would see an empty room…but it wasn’t.
Cameron Douglas stood in front of his chair in the Douglas kilt, forest-green sleeveless t-shirt and black army boots, his sandy-brown hair falling just below his ears and a sad smile on his face. Holly crossed her arms to hide the erratic beat of her heart as a shiver raced up her spine. Fear and happiness fought inside her. “What are you doing here?”