“Was there something you wanted to know? About Rosie, I mean?”
His eyes were glassy and shimmering when they came back to rest on mine. “I woke up this morning at my hotel and took a shower. She’d left a message for me. Right there on the mirror, written in the steam.”
My eyes widened. “What did it say? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“It said ‘I’m sorry, Calvy’ and she signed it with an XO.” A single tear slipped down his face and lines appeared at the edges of his eyes as he struggled to contain the rest.
I reached over the table and laid a hand on his. “That’s beautiful. She’s at peace now, Calvin. She knows what really happened.”
He nodded, freeing another tear. “It’s all thanks to you.”
Calvin reached into his coat and pulled out a white envelope. He pushed it across the table. His eyes couldn’t meet mine as he whispered. “Can you see that she reads this?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” He stood and reached down to grab the handle of his suitcase. “For everything,” he added, turning to leave.
A lump swelled in my throat and fresh tears sprang to my eyes as I watched him go. When the door swung shut, I reached for the envelope. It was thick, as though it contained several pages. I knew that I would have to be the one to open it since Rosie likely couldn’t do it for herself now that all of that angry energy was gone, but it still felt wrong, peeking into someone else’s private letter.
I tucked the envelope, unopened, into the wide pocket on my apron and went to lock the door. I paused, one hand on the deadbolt, and watched as Calvin shuffled down the sidewalk, his shoulders hunched. My heart twisted. Somewhere deep down, I knew he would be all right. There was no doubt that the whole thing dredged up memories he might have preferred to leave buried, but sometimes the only way to properly heal a wound required ripping off the scab and starting the process over.
When Calvin was out of sight, I went to my studio and looked around. Part of me wanted to retreat upstairs and lose myself in some mindless TV—I wouldn’t even mind if Hayward and Flapjack wanted to argue the whole time. Unfortunately, I’d fallen behind with work and hadn’t fully processed the fresh flowers that had been delivered just after lunch. The large cardboard boxes nagged at me and they couldn’t wait until morning because they needed refrigeration. I switched on the radio, found a good station that was in the middle of a solid block of music, and rolled up my sleeves.
The work was just involved enough to keep me from thinking too much. Soft music played through the store and I hummed along as I stripped away thorns and excess foliage, and made fresh cuts to all the ends of the flowers before putting them into holding buckets. When they were all processed, I stored them away in the cooler and went back to the desk to shut down the computer and turn off the music.
A tapping sound jolted me and I glanced up to see Lucas standing at the front door, two coffee cups in hand. It was a shame he was leaving, for more than one reason; I could get used to having my coffee delivered right to my shop.
I waved and hustled around the counter to go unlock the door. I pulled it open for him and he came inside, handing me one of the two cups. “I grabbed you a hazelnut latte. This one is something called a Live Wire and has six shots of espresso,” he said, raising up his own cup.
I laughed and took the latte. “Planning for a late night?”
He gave a terse nod. “Yeah.”
“You sound thrilled about it.” I stifled a laugh and took a sip from the paper cup.
“The work is finally done but it’s bound to be an all-nighter while they shoot edits and final scenes. Everyone is cranky and on edge. We’ve been on the road for six months straight and this is usually the point where people start to lose it.”
“Better keep that taser fully charged, I guess.”
Lucas rubbed his free hand over the back of his neck and glanced around the darkened retail space. “How’s everything here?”
“Back to normal, I suppose,” I answered with a slight shrug.
“Everything all right?”
I relaxed my face and smoothed a hand over my hair. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just a little distracted today. My brain is busy.”
He offered a crooked smile. “Quarter for your thoughts?”
My lips twitched. “Quarter? I’m pretty sure it’s a penny.”
He shrugged. “Inflation.”
I laughed and took my coffee back to the computer and finished shutting everything down. “Aha.”
Lucas followed me but remained on the customer’s side of the front counter. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the tall case that stood to the right of the cash register, and considered the assortment of pre-made offerings for the grab-and-go type of customers. When he looked up at me, he flashed a smile. “Besides that, I’d say your thoughts are worth far more than the going rate.”
“Very smooth,” I replied, unable to stop the slow grin that spread over my face.
He really was too good looking—the kind of man who made women do crazy things. Like periodically stop breathing.
I folded my arms. “For now at least, I think I’ll keep my thoughts to myself.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed his face but he masked it half a second later. “Fair enough. I’m here if you decide that you need a sounding board.”
“Thanks.”
He pushed off the glass case and walked the perimeter of the shop, his hands in his pockets. He stopped at the carousel of greeting cards and idly considered them before spinning the plastic display. When he stopped, he looked up at me. “You going to the wrap party tomorrow night? You got your invite, right?”
“Yeah, I got it. I’m not sure if I’m going.” I shifted from foot to foot.
“Why not?”
“I’m worried the Carters will want an answer to their proposition and I still haven’t decided what I want to do.”
“Aha.” Lucas took a pensive sip from his heart-palpitations-in-a-cup coffee. “For what it’s worth, I doubt they expect an answer so soon. These kinds of deals take time.”
“I’m not sure. They seemed pretty insistent.”
Lucas chuckled. “They’re excitable; it’s just the way they are.”
“Isn’t the wrap party more for the crew? I’m not sure I really belong in that category. I wasn’t a part of the creation process or an assistant or anything.”
Lucas leveled me with a calm stare. “They invited you, didn’t they? It’s their party, Scarlet. Obviously they want you there.”
I set the latte aside. “I’ll let you know, okay?”
Lucas started to say something but stopped short. “All right.”
“What?” I asked, trying to read his face.
He shook his head, but just said, “Hopefully I’ll see you there.”
Gwen was one unhappy camper when she found out I was skipping out on the party. “I don’t understand you, Scarlet! You’re being a real Cinderella here, and not in the sympathetic way!”
I wrinkled my nose. “What does that even mean?”
She huffed. “It means that instead of some evil step-mother locking you away, making you miss out on a fabulous night with the prince, you’re the one holding the key!”
“I believe that’s called self-sabotage,” Hayward offered.
“Thank you, Hayward,” I grumbled.
He tipped his hat, either missing the sarcasm or choosing to ignore it. Likely the former.
I sighed and bent so that I could prop my elbows on the counter, then buried my fingertips in my hair. “I don’t know, Gwen. I’m not good at this stuff. I thought about it all night and I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I won’t know anyone besides Lucas and I still haven’t decided what to tell the Carters about their offer to join the show.”
It was full-blown whining and I knew it.
It was also total crap.
Knew that too.
The truth was that I’d never tried to fall in
love. In high school, when all of my friends were interested in boys, I was busy studying different languages. They clipped pictures from Cosmo and I scoured National Geographic. The boys that I thought were cute or funny were never interested in me. I wasn’t an outcast; I had friends, but the guys on the basketball team or the baseball team were interested in the cheerleaders and dance team girls. They didn’t pay attention to the girl who lived in the school library and brought books whenever forced to attend one of their games. Later in life, in college, I started dating. There were a few brainy and cute Clark Kent types, but nothing ever took off. Looking back, I could see that the common denominator in each failed relationship was me. I’d shut down when things got serious. I didn’t want to stay in one place.
Lucas was the first man who might actually make sense, and that terrified me more than anything.
It was easy to find ways out or reasons why a relationship wouldn’t work. The one problem I hadn’t yet faced was what happened when there wasn’t a good reason not to try. Well, besides the fact that one day we’d have to tell our grandchildren that their grandfather pulled a taser on their grandmother. Love at first tackle wasn’t a common fairy tale beginning, though in some ways, maybe that was a positive thing rather than a negative. As Gwen had already pointed out, I wasn’t exactly following the princess formula.
“You want my advice?” Gwen asked. Before I answered, she continued, “You’ve got a real shot here, Scarlet. A chance at something real. Why would you turn that down?”
I met her gaze and answered in a soft voice, “Because I’m scared.”
Gwen’s face softened and she floated a little closer. “Oh, honey, don’t let that stop you! Think of all the wonderful things that we’d miss out on if we let fear stop us. Sure, I’m not exactly the poster child for rational thinking. I get it; I stage-dived off the back of the stage, where there was no one even there to catch me.”
I winced. “You never told me that part of the story.”
She smiled. “It’s not my favorite part to tell. All I can say is that I’m grateful that my now-forever face doesn’t show the damage. Otherwise I’d be spending eternity looking like a Pekingese!”
I stifled a laugh with the back of my hand.
Gwen, unflappable as ever, waved a hand. “It’s all right. I laugh about it sometimes too. Of all the ways to go …”
“You’ve got style, babe.”
She laughed.
I glanced at the clock. If I hurried, I could still make it in the fashionably late window. I set aside my apron and headed for the stairwell.
“Where are you going?” Gwen called after me.
I stopped and pivoted back to face her, a wide smile on my lips. “I’ve got a party to get ready for. You want to help me pick out my outfit?”
I laughed as she zoomed for the back stairs. I’d never seen her move so fast.
Chapter 22
Twenty minutes later, decked out in a little black dress, purple pumps, and a shade of lipstick so bright I couldn’t even imagine myself buying it in the first place, I made my grand entrance at the Carters’ after party. Sheila Carter pounced on me like a lioness chasing after a wounded gazelle. I’d barely made it three steps inside the fancy hotel banquet room before she sidelined me to make the official introductions.
“Lucas has been raving about you all week!” Sheila said, pumping my hand in a handshake that was borderline painful. She wore a black dress with a vibrant pink scarf tied around her waist. Her long, honey-blonde hair was pulled to the side and tucked into an artful arrangement. “Brooklyn said you two have talked about the offer. Oh! Here’s Stu!”
Sheila motioned to her husband and he came over, Lucas hot on his heels.
My eyes soared past Stu Carter and locked onto Lucas. He wore a navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt. He’d opted out of wearing a tie and from the way he’d left the top button undone, he was ready to get out of the suit as soon as humanly possible.
Which, with flushed cheeks, I realized would be just fine with me.
“There she is! Our new star!” Stu boomed, his voice carrying far enough to garner the attention of the clusters of people standing nearby. “Scarlet Sanderson. Ghost hunter extraordinaire! I can see the branding now. A cool, updated Lara Croft look.” Stu fanned out his hands, as though framing an invisible billboard sign. “I already contacted a composer buddy to see about putting an action-adventure spin on the theme song from Ghostbusters.”
I shot a glare at Lucas.
His hands popped up, palms facing me. “I swear that was not me.”
“Stu, Sheila, really, I’m flattered, but—”
Both of them were too busy arguing about the color scheme for my soon-to-be graphics package to notice me.
“If you go on the road with us, you’re going to have to get used to this.” Lucas chuckled. “On the plus side, we’ll be able to see a lot more of one another.”
“Is that a plus?” I asked with a teasing smile.
“Ouch.”
“Honestly though, I’ve been talking to Brooklyn, and—”
The sound of someone clinking silverware against a crystal glass caught the attention of the room and a hushed silence swept through. Sheila held her glass high and I realized she’d been the one to call for order. She beamed out at the crowd. “Everyone, everyone, listen up! Some of you might not know Scarlet Sanderson, but you need to memorize her name because she is going to be a huge star!”
I forced a smile but the edges felt pinched.
Sheila beamed at me. “We still have a few details to work out, but this fall, Scarlet will become an official member of the Mints on the Pillows family as our resident ghost expert!”
A rush of whispers and soft laughter echoed through the room. Judging by the looks on the faces of those in the front row of the crowd, they thought Sheila was joking around.
“Come on, Scarlet, tell us your best ghost story!”
Sheila had stopped speaking and all eyes were swiveled in my direction, waiting.
I burst out laughing.
Not a polite, nervous laugh. No, a full-on, tears-in-eyes guffaw.
Lucas’s expression shifted, his thick brows creasing together, which for some reason, only made me laugh harder.
“What am I doing here?” I heard someone ask, only to realize it was me.
Sheila’s face tightened, her smile remaining intact but pained. “Are you all right, Scarlet? I know it’s a lot to take in.”
My eyes still on Lucas’s, I started to shake my head. “I’m—I’m so sorry, but no. I can’t do this.”
My cheeks flared with heat. “I’m sorry, Sheila.” I tugged out of her reach and bolted back out the door I’d just come in.
“Scarlet!” Lucas called, racing after me.
I ignored him and continued to race down the sidewalk back to where I’d parked the delivery van as fast as my heel-clad feet could carry me. “Should have worn flats,” I cursed in a sing-song tune as I hustled into the darkness. “Thanks a lot, Gwen.”
“Scarlet, please, wait!”
Unfortunately, between my awkward, baby-deer running pattern and his athleticism, I didn’t have a snow cone’s chance in Hades of getting away. With a heavy sigh, I stumbled to a stop and then pivoted around to face him. “What do you want, Lucas?”
“What was all that about?” he asked, thumbing over one broad shoulder.
I scoffed. “Nothing! I shouldn’t have even shown up tonight. I don’t know what I was thinking.” I glanced down at the silver embellishment on my heels. And I really don’t know what I was thinking when I let Gwen talk me into dragging these out of the depths of my closet. “Obviously they can see the truth now.”
“And what truth is that?” Lucas asked with a deep frown.
“That I’m a mess! I’m not made for TV or any shade of limelight.” A hollow laugh slipped out. “I can’t even handle myself at a cocktail party in front of thirty people. The odds of my performance getting better on
a red carpet or something are a whole lot lower, I assure you.”
Lucas chuckled and shook his head.
I scowled at him. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re so lost in your ghost world that you don’t see what’s right in front of you.”
I reared back as though he’d thrown ice water in my face. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged his shoulders and pocketed his hands. “I just call it like I see it.”
I folded my arms. “Well you’re going to have to explain it to me, because I’m not following.”
Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure what was keeping my discount-store shoes planted on the sidewalk before him. After a line like that, I should have turned and stormed off in a proper huff. That would teach him. I might be shy and occasionally nerdy, but I wasn’t a pushover and I wouldn’t tolerate bullying.
“This isn’t about the show, Scarlet. I like you. All right? In case I haven’t made that abundantly clear already—I like you.”
My heart skittered to a stop for a moment before slamming back into working order, pumping out a frantic beat.
“Sure, there was a part of me that wanted you to come on the road with us, but it wasn’t because I thought you wanted to be famous. It was because I wanted to spend more time with you.”
“I did think about it a lot,” I said quietly. “Really, the only reason I considered it for so long, or even took the call in the first place, was because of you.” I smiled up at him. “Well, right after the part about the big, fat paycheck.”
Lucas chuckled. “Obviously.”
“I like you too, Lucas. I don’t want to say goodbye. I couldn’t have done any of this without your help, and honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted to.”
Lucas traced a finger along the side of my face. “I’m still here for a couple more days. What do you say we go on a couple of ghost-free dates and see how we do?”
I nodded. “I’d like that.”
“Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”
I stared at him for a moment. “Don’t you have to get back to the party?”
The Ghost Hunter Next Door: A Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mystery (Beechwood Harbor Ghost Mysteries Book 1) Page 18