Careless Whisper (10 page)

Forgoing the formal wear, she opted for a black V-neck T-shirt and blue jeans—comfort and class. Fixing her hair seemed to take moments. The humidity-enhanced curls cooperated as she smoothed with the flatiron. She pursed her lips and checked the clock.
Twenty-five to four.
Perfect.
Plenty of time for the drive across town, even if she hit every red light on the

As she sped down the main drag of
Snake
Falls
, she sang to the songs on the radio. Each tune wrapped around her heart, reminding her of Ryan. She came to a stop in the parking lot and disengaged the engine. A woman in a black gown rounded her hood. A shiver slid through Samara’s body. As quickly as the woman appeared, she disappeared. Samara glanced around the still lot. Ryan said she saw the dead. She’d seen hell through his eyes in his dream.
“Felicity?”

Shadows thickened around the entrance of the bland beige Showman building. Samara shoved the unease to the back of her mind. If Felicity or any other ghost wanted to cause harm, then fine. Let them. She wasn’t going to give the dead the upper hand. “I’ve backed down too many times in my life. No more. Respect me, or leave me alone.”

Folding her hands in her lap, she surveyed the landscape once again. Nothing seemed out of place.
Had to be a figment of her imagination.
She took a deep breath and got out of her car. The tension squeezing around her brain eased as she strolled into the foyer of Matilda’s office. The secretary, a lithe blonde with thick eyeliner rimming her eyes, cocked her brow. “Yes?”

“I’m here for a four o’clock with Ms. Snodgrass.”

The blonde flicked her hand and shouted. “The live one from last week is back. Send her in?” Her gaze travelled over Samara. “At least you have manners.”

Samara folded her clammy hands to hide the trembling. “Thanks?”

“Go on. She’s expecting you.”

Samara
paused
a beat before heading into Matilda’s office. She’d only ever seen the woman around the office, never in the cafeteria or meetings. Was the blonde one of the visible dead? Samara sighed and wiped her hands on her jeans to help diminish her jittery nerves. Once she talked to Matilda, she’d find Ryan and offer her heart to her Spirit Mate.

As she entered the darkened room, Matilda reclined in the corner of the shiny leather couch. “So you made it. Close the door.” She nodded to the doorway. “
Hettie’s
a nosy-butt.”

Samara complied and nibbled the corner of her mouth, not sure what to say or do. She’d never had a real discussion or even a quick exchange of words with Matilda, let alone
Hettie
. What should she say to a dead woman?

“Don’t be afraid of
Hettie
. She’s hanging around with a whole lot of nothing to do. If she could find Fordham, she’d be better off. She won’t bite.” Matilda patted the couch. Her gold bracelets jingled on her bony wrist. “Sit. I wondered if you could see me, but Ryan was right. It wasn’t a fluke. You have the talent.”

“I saw you yesterday in the atrium and last week in the cafeteria.” Samara perched on the opposite end of the couch and narrowed her eyes. “Although he never said you were a ghost, I’ve been able to see you since I started here.”

“Besides Tony, you were one of the ones I wanted to see me. He’s not dead, by the way, but he looks it sometimes. But we’re talking about you.” Matilda folded her arms and crooked a brow. “Knowing Ryan as I do, I assume he didn’t tell you much, did he?”

A twinge of jealousy slipped through her veins. Ryan never admitted to an affair with Matilda. Truth be told, he’d said spirits and the living couldn’t have carnal relations. But it wasn’t like they’d had too many discussions in the course of twenty-four hours. “Define
tell
.”

“Ryan Black is a piece of work.” The corner of Matilda’s mouth curled into a smirk. “He gets under the skin like a tattoo.”

“True.”

“You have guts, kid. Most run straight to Tony thinking I’m a figment of the internet. But I let you see me.” She laced her thin fingers together over her knee. “Let’s get down to brass tacks. I take it
Honoria
revealed your gift and split?”

Samara blinked back the sting in her eyes. “She didn’t have much choice—she just disappeared. Poof!
Gone.”

“Typical. She wanted to see your
Grampa
in the worst way, not that I blame her. He’s a cutie.” She bounced her foot, staring at Samara. Matilda cleared her throat. “Ok, here’s the skinny—there are three general kinds of spirits.”

“Good, evil, and neutral?” Samara replied in a sing-song voice. They were wasting time. “And I can see those who want me to see them.”

“Not exactly.”
Matilda snapped her fingers. A champagne flute filled with maroon liquid appeared in her hand. She sniffed the contents and sipped. “Good Merlot.”
 
She sighed. “Some good people are still hanging around because they have unfinished business—like Honey.
 
Then there are some who just like being on Earth and aren’t ready to completely cash it in.
Likewise with the bad spirits.
Some don’t want to burn in hell if they can have a ball here. The rest are like me.”

“Can’t let go of the limelight?” Samara ground her teeth together to bite back another caustic comment. Matilda might drive her to drinking, but she was attempting to help. “Go on.”

“I love your sense of humour. It reminds me of a couple of actresses I drank with in the thirties after I passed. How they loved the Ouija boards.” She snorted and shook her head. “No, I’m working off a debt.”

Samara sank back into the seat. Shock resonated in her reply.
“Really?”

“Let’s say I wasn’t the best flapper girl. I ran around, enjoyed my booze and my men more than I
should’ve
. My boy-of-the-moment, Russell
Sams
, got jealous because I wasn’t monogamous with him.” She glanced away,
then
stared Samara in the eyes.
 
“I’ve never told anyone this, but he choked the life out of me and is serving his time with the Horny Bastard down under.” She snorted. “It really was my fault. I told him to put me in my place if he caught me with another man because I thought I loved him. I didn’t realise his version of place meant a four-by-six hole.”

“That’s terrible.”

“It’s my fate and I accept it. Now my job is to get you and Ryan together.”

Samara shook her head and held up her hand,
pausing
the discussion. “Wait. That makes no sense. Why are you helping us?”

“I broke up homes, families, marriages… My penance is to put a few relationships together. To help people find their Spirit Mates.” She sipped the dark liquid, but the sadness didn’t dissipate from her words. “But don’t think I’m a good ghost. I could turn on you in a snap.”

“Spirit Mate?
So it’s not a crock?”

“You and Ryan are of like mind. He’ll probably bushwhack it all up and say something foolish like he needs you to find his ex-wife.” She bobbed her head. “Yes and no. He needs you because being with his true Spirit Mate will erase all other lovers from his past, but if he says he’s supposed to be with her, he’s lying.”

Samara scrunched down in her seat. The severity of Matilda’s words crashed over her. If she truly trusted him as she said and forged past the irritation of Felicity, then they had a chance.

“You’d better trust him with your whole heart. Spirits are tricky devils. We can play with human emotions if we choose.”

“Why should I trust you? I remember what you said yesterday. For all I know, this is a trick to make me look stupid.”

“Because you’re a smart girl.”

Samara’s self-confidence waned. “I don’t know about that.” All the garbage from her past flew into her mind, adding to her self-doubt.

“If I wanted him for myself like I’ve said, I’m shooting my own foot. A spirit and a human cannot mate, first off. Second off, this is my good deed for the decade. Soon I’ll be able to move on and let Tony run the station
on his own
.”

“What was your last good deed?”

“The day the parachute pants fad died.”

“You won’t hear me complain.” She twined her fingers. “When did you die?”

“Nineteen twenty-two.”

“Holy shit.”

“Hey, I lived fast and left a beautiful spirit.” She fluffed her hair and pursed her lips. “I won beauty pageants with these looks.”

“You’re the piece of work, not Ryan.”

“Suit yourself, but be on guard. If any spirits want to jeopardise the union, they will.”

“Felicity?”

“I can’t validate your suspicion, but if you—I can’t believe I’m saying this—lead with your heart, then things will work out as they are supposed to. Now get moving. Tony doesn’t pay you to sit here with me shooting the breeze.”

“Thanks, Matilda.”

“Ta.”

With her heart lighter, Samara strode out of the office. She stopped in the hallway outside Ryan’s office. “I love you.” Her lips tingled and a smile kinked her mouth. The words felt right, sounded wonderful,
tasted
perfect on her tongue.
Now to show him how she felt.

* * * *

On the other side of town, Ryan struggled through a shower, his thoughts never drifting far from Samara. Even on his drive back to the station to retrieve the camera equipment, he replayed making love to her in his head. Each curve, sigh and scent wreaked havoc on his senses. Was he being overdramatic? She’d never told him to get lost. She wanted time and granted him space.

Ryan stepped into his office and paused to clear his mind.
 
She wanted his trust.
Fine.
She needed time. Swell. He sat on the edge of his desk and drummed his fingers on his thighs. The last time he jumped in with both feet, he’d failed. How would being with Sam be any different?
Because the fame and money didn’t move her.
She was the simple girl he’d searched for all his life. And she wasn’t Felicity.

He closed his eyes. Faith dictated he take a deep
breath
and see where things went. Pride demanded he march to her cubicle and shout until he got his way. He could almost hear
Honoria
scold him.

Patience.

Fine.

A knock echoed in the silent room, making him open his eyes.
“Samara?”

Although the door didn’t open, a chill shot through him. Ice hardened in his veins.

“Even better.
I’m back.”

Ryan gasped as Felicity took shape in front of him. But instead of the teddies she’d taken to wearing, this time, she stood before him nude. A Cheshire cat grin curled on her lips. “Sorry it took me so long. Traffic’s a bitch.”

“The dead have no traffic.” His gaze roved over her body. The dips and swells he loved in the past remained, but no longer moved him. His cock didn’t come to life like with Samara. The flash in her eyes failed to excite him. No, seeing Felicity churned his stomach.
 

“Now you’re mine,” she purred and sashayed forward. She laced her weightless arms around his neck.

Ryan dipped his head. Samara strengthened his battered heart and healed his wounded soul.
His perfect match.
“Then she
is
the one.”

 
“Don’t you love me?”

“
Lis
, this isn’t fair.”

“Tell me about it.” She rubbed against him to little effect. Her turgid nipples faded in and out of focus, not touching his chest. “You can’t feel me, can you?”

“I can’t feel what died with you, but still.” He stared into the blue depths of her eyes. “You’re my wife. I’ll always have love for you.”

Felicity broke into laughter. “I knew you’d say that just when she showed up.”

Ryan turned as Samara backed through the doorway. Crimson stained her cheeks. “I’ll come back at a better time.”

As he strode towards her, Felicity grabbed his arm.
“Oh, no.
You stay here.”

“
Dammit
, now you have the energy to pull this shit.” He wriggled from her grasp, amazed she’d conjured enough energy to touch him. “My past with you is dead. I need Samara.” He rushed into the hallway, only to find it empty.

“I told you.”

He spun on his heel, ready to scream. What good would it do? Felicity would disappear just as she had in life. Why stick around to deal with the aftermath of her actions when taking the coward’s way out suited better?

She sat on the edge of his desk and crossed her legs, her bare foot bobbing. “If she really loved you, she’d have stuck around.
Wimp.”

“Shut up.”

“I told you, you’re mine.”

Anger coursed through his veins.
All the times Felicity showed up and wrangled her way in and out of his life to suit her own purpose.
All the jealousy, the fights.
She loved to stir the pot and cause trouble—for him.