Love & Omens

by Carrie Pulkinen

  “It doesn’t work that way. I don’t have visions about random people. It’s always people I know, especially ones I’m close to. If a stranger walked up and offered me fifty bucks to tell her who she’s going to marry, I wouldn’t be able to. It seems I only get glimpses of things the universe wants me to know, and half the time I don’t understand why I’m supposed to know it.”

  “Maybe so you can affect it? Stop it from happening if it’s bad?” She could practically hear the million-dollar question forming in his mind.

  “Sometimes that works. A lot of times, it doesn’t, no matter how hard I try.”

  He paused, his intense gaze penetrating her armor, slicing her open and latching on to her soul. “Have you ever had visions about me?”

  She couldn’t have lied to him if she tried. Clasping her hands in her lap, she lowered her gaze. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The reason I broke up with you when I did.”

  He rested his forearm on the desk and leaned toward her. “I’m listening.”

  “You were…” She looked into his deep, blue eyes, and ice flooded her veins, freezing her to the spot. Telling him now wasn’t any easier than it had been eight years ago, and this time, texting him wasn’t an option. Swallowing the frozen lump from her throat, she straightened her spine. “You had just told me you were moving to New York for grad school, and then a few days later, I had a premonition. We were supposed to go to the Krewe of Horae masquerade together.”

  “I remember. You were going to be inducted that night.” His gaze was steady, urging her to continue.

  She inclined her chin. “And you were going to stand me up.” Her breath came out in a rush, the weight of the accusation she’d carried all these years finally lifting from her chest.

  His brow furrowed, and he crossed his arms. “I was not going to stand you up.”

  “You were, Blake. Maybe you hadn’t planned to, but something more important for you was going to come up. I saw myself sitting on my mom’s front porch, waiting for you to pick me up, but you never came. I missed the ball because I was so upset. I missed my induction…”

  He shook his head. “But that didn’t happen.”

  “No, I didn’t let it. I was so hurt, though, I couldn’t even talk to you. That’s why I texted, and for that, I am deeply sorry. I should have had the decency to break up with you in person, but I was a coward. I was hurt…”

  “You were hurt?” He leaned back in his chair, gaping. “How do you think I felt?”

  “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d care at the time. You were moving a thousand miles away, so our relationship was doomed anyway. I figured you standing me up was your way of ending it.”

  He opened and closed his mouth a few times and laughed, unbelieving. “That’s not what happened at all. That’s not what was going to happen. Sydney, you should have talked to me.”

  “I know I should have. I’m sorry I didn’t, but I’m not sorry I ended it. I went to the Krewe of Horae ball, and I experienced my induction on my own. I’d have missed it otherwise.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “And that’s all you saw? You on the front porch crying and deciding not to go to your ball?”

  “Yes.” What more did he want from her? What did he expect a nineteen-year-old armed with that foreknowledge to do?

  He dropped his hands into his lap. “You didn’t meditate on it? You didn’t try to see any more of the night? To figure out why I didn’t show?”

  “Meditation wasn’t in my arsenal at the time. I didn’t know how to…” She didn’t have to explain this to him. Her curse was her own to bear. “Look, I had dated a few guys before we met, and I’ve dated a few since. And every time I start seeing someone, I always see how it’s going to end. Maybe I can change the circumstances, prolong it, but I can’t stop the inevitable. I can’t change people.”

  “Unbelievable.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Do you want to know where I went that night?”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. Look, you asked what you had done wrong, and I’m telling you. You didn’t do anything wrong, because you didn’t get the chance to. But you would have.”

  “No. No, I wouldn’t have. I spent the night of your masquerade in the hospital, having an appendectomy.”

  She blinked. “Wait. What?”

  “My appendix ruptured, and I had emergency surgery that evening. You would have been the first person I called when I woke up…in fact, you were, but you’d blocked my number. I knew you’d blocked my number, but I called anyway.”

  Her mouth hung open, her bottom lip trembling before she snapped it shut. Did she hear that right? “You went to the hospital?”

  “And you would have known that if you would have talked to me. You never gave me a chance. I spent Spring Break of my senior year of college recovering. I barely made it to class to finish my finals and graduate. I almost died that day.” He crossed his arms and looked away.

  Her premonition of Blake standing her up wasn’t signaling the end of their relationship? Her elbows thunked on the desk as her head fell into her hands. She hadn’t just been a coward; she’d been stupid. If she would have paid more attention to the details of her vision, talked to Blake about it rather than dumping him at the first sign of trouble, she might have been able to help him. “I am so sorry, Blake.”

  “I am too, Sydney. I was looking forward to that masquerade. I knew how important it was to you, and I planned on being by your side the whole night. I planned to…” He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. “You let me spend eight years thinking our breakup was my fault.” He shot to his feet and paced in front of the desk.

  “I’m sorry.” Sydney stood and shuffled toward him, but his rigid posture and jerking movements said he didn’t want her sympathy. She clasped her hands together and waited for him to stop pacing. “I was young and really, really dumb. They say your brain doesn’t fully develop until you’re thirty, so I’m still dumb.”

  “Is that what you do with your visions? You keep your gift a secret and act on these premonitions without talking to the people involved? Because that’s not right. That’s messing with people’s lives.”

  “No. I don’t…” She sighed. “Seeing the future isn’t a gift. I don’t want to have this ability. It’s messy and complicated, and I don’t know why I see what I see, and I just…”

  “I thought you were the one I was going to spend the rest of my life with.”

  She stopped breathing mid-inhale, and as she looked at him, the world ceased to spin. Pain, anguish that she had caused, filled his eyes, shattering her heart into a million pieces. She was a horrible, despicable person. “I was selfish. If I’d known how much it would hurt you… I didn’t think it through. I acted rashly without even considering your feelings, and I’m sorry. I could say it a thousand times, and it wouldn’t be enough. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Pressing his lips together, he searched her eyes for an eternity, and she held her breath. She had hurt him, and she deserved whatever he planned to say. Maybe the coffin in her vision didn’t symbolize the end of Crescent City Ghost Tours or the death of someone she loved. Maybe it meant the real end of her relationship with Blake. True closure. If he couldn’t forgive her, if they couldn’t work together, life as she knew it would end.

  “That’s asking a lot.”

  She swallowed hard. “I know. I’m asking for something I don’t deserve, and I don’t blame you if you can’t. I barely have a handle on my visions now, and it was even worse back then. It’s no excuse.”

  “You hurt me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  With a slow exhale, his posture relaxed, and he took a step toward her. “I forgave you a long time ago. I had to in order to keep my sanity.”

  Cool relief loosened her tension, but her guilt still sat heavy in her stomach. “So, we’re okay then? You don’t hate me?”

  “I grieved when you broke up with me. I was devasted, and t
hen I was angry. Then I let it go. Well, I thought I’d let it go, but seeing you again stirred up all those emotions, bringing them back to the surface. I’ve been trying to focus on the hurt, but the good memories are stronger. We were good together.”

  Her chest swelled with so much emotion she couldn’t breathe. “We were, until I screwed it up,” she whispered.

  He rested a hand on her shoulder, and she instinctively moved closer to him. “It was a long time ago. I could have tried harder to contact you, but my pride stopped me. Who knows why young people do what they do?”

  “Immature brains.”

  He chuckled. “I guess so. We’re both to blame.”

  She shook her head. “This is all on me. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

  “Come here, cher.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “I forgive you.”

  She rested her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes, losing herself in the comfort and familiarity of his embrace. His deliciously masculine scent swirled through her senses, and she slipped her arms around his waist, hooking her thumbs in his belt loops.

  Having Blake’s forgiveness felt like a vise grip releasing its hold on her chest—better than she could have ever imagined. But the knowledge that her vision wasn’t meant to signal the end of their relationship burrowed into her mind, blooming into a giant mushroom cloud of what-ifs.

  If she hadn’t seen the end, did that mean there wouldn’t have been one?

  He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know if—”

  The office door slammed shut, the antique wood rattling in the frame, and Sydney jerked her head toward the sound. “Has this one slammed before?”

  She let out a breath and tugged from his embrace, striding toward the door. Whether a draft or a ghost was responsible for the distraction, she owed it her thanks. That situation was getting too real way too fast. She’d merely meant to apologize to the man, not end up wrapped in his arms and ready for…who knew what?

  Twisting the knob, she pushed the door open, swinging it back and forth to test the hinges.

  “I hear doors slamming down here when I’m upstairs, but the door to the front room is the only one I’ve ever seen shut on its own.” He shuffled toward her.

  The hinges felt secure, no loose screws to make it off-balance. She examined the frame and opened the door halfway, giving it a gentle push in each direction to see if it would gain momentum, but it only moved a few inches each way. It didn’t seem prone to anything but deliberate movement.

  Blake watched her as she attempted to debunk the event, a crooked grin tugging up one corner of his mouth, though she couldn’t tell if he was amused, impressed, or still thinking about that intense moment they’d shared. “Do you think it—”

  She threw up a hand and shushed him. Holding her breath, she listened for any signs of a draft. “Is the heater on?”

  “Not at the moment. You can hear it when it’s running.”

  “I can’t debunk this. If it’s happening a lot, you might have brought in a strong one.” She shook her head. “Hopefully he…or she…is just looking for attention and isn’t going to be a troublemaker.”

  “Trouble?” A look of wariness tightened his eyes. “Sean assured me that ghosts can’t hurt the living. What kind of trouble are we talking about?”

  She leaned against the wall. “Sean has a different perspective on spirits than the rest of us. He sometimes forgets we can’t see and hear them like he can.”

  Blake crossed his arms. “So, ghosts can hurt the living?”

  “Not directly, but…” She bit the inside of her cheek. They always told clients this line to keep them calm. Spirits seeking attention tended to become more active when they sensed a fear reaction from the living.

  “But what?”

  Blake wasn’t technically a client. He was part of the team now, so he deserved the truth. Especially after everything she’d just confessed. “They’re basically people without bodies. If they were ornery in life, they’ll be that way in death too.”

  “Great. And I’m collecting the belongings of a bunch of murderers.” He ran a hand through his hair and paced into the hall. “Is what I’m doing…safe? I’m not going to end up possessed by the spirit of The Axeman and go on a killing spree, am I?”

  She couldn’t fight her smile, but she tried to cover up the laugh that bubbled from her chest with a cough. “Unless The Axeman is really a demon, you don’t have to worry about being possessed. Human spirits can’t get inside you unless you invite them, and you’d have to be a powerful medium to do it.” Nonhuman entities were another story, but she wouldn’t elaborate on that unless absolutely necessary.

  The tension in his shoulders eased. “That’s good to know.”

  “Human spirits can’t physically interact with the living. You may feel a coldness or even a light touch if they try…” She placed her hand on his bicep to demonstrate. “But their forms will pass right through you if they use any pressure.”

  He glanced at her hand, still resting on his skin. “I see.”

  Trailing her fingers down his arm, she took his hand in hers, covering his fingers with her other hand. “They can’t hurt you directly, but if you’d been standing in this threshold when the door slammed, it could have busted your nose.”

  “Hmm. So if I’m in the way of an axe that gets thrown…”

  “It’s a solid object. If a ghost can build up enough energy to actually pick it up and throw it, that would be a problem.” She squeezed his hand and let it go. “Have you brought in any new artifacts recently?

  “Not in the past week.”

  “If an aggressive entity were here, you’d have had more activity than slamming doors by now. I think you’re safe.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. Honestly, I’m a little nervous about tonight. Do you promise not to laugh at me if I squeal like a little girl?” He grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  She laughed. “I can’t make any promises on that. Everyone’s scared their first time. When Sean and I started investigating for the tour, I nearly peed my pants when a chair fell over. I might’ve squealed too.” She winked. “Now, nothing scares me.”

  He nodded, holding her gaze. “That’s not hard to believe.”

  An ear-splitting buzzing sound reverberated through the building, sending a jolt of adrenaline rushing through her system, making her jump. “What the hell is that?”

  Blake laughed. “That’s the doorbell.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Nothing scares you, huh?” Blake winked.

  “That wasn’t paranormal. It doesn’t count.”

  He couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off his face if he tried, and the fact that Sydney’s smile was just as big sent a fizzing sensation rushing through his veins. “I’m not judging.”

  As he stood there, staring into her dark brown eyes, the embers their reunion had ignited grew into a full-blown blaze. He had forgiven her years ago. Finally hearing the true story behind their breakup had taken him aback, but once he recovered from the initial shock, forgiving her again had been the easiest thing in the world. Too easy.

  Time had a way of healing wounds. Smoothing over the broken pieces and filling in the cracks. They were both young when it happened, and either one could have handled the situation better. While they had both matured, he had no idea how she’d handle something like that now. Did he want to risk his heart again when she’d so easily smashed it to pieces before?

  She still fit in his arms like she belonged there, and the way she’d melted into him, her body conforming to his as he held her tight, accepting her apology, offering his forgiveness… If the universe was offering him a second chance, who was he to waste it?

  A memory of his previous failed office romance sliced through his mind, and he bit the inside of his cheek. Opening the exhibit was his last chance in this career. After everything that happened in New York, he’d never find a job in a respectable museum again. His na
me wasn’t just mud in the business; it was dog shit.

  When he left, he promised himself he’d never get involved with a coworker again, especially not a boss/employee situation like last time. But this was different. This was Sydney…

  The doorbell sounded a second time, the offensive buzz splitting the room before someone banged on the door, and he closed his eyes for a long blink. That could only be one person.

  Sydney took a step back. “Are you expecting company?”

  “I’m sure it’s my cousin. Let me get rid of her.” He strode to the front and peeked through a slit in the paper covering the window.

  Claire stood on the steps, a paper bag in one hand, a large Styrofoam cup in the other. She held a second cup in the crook of her elbow, and she kicked her leg, missing the resident crow by two feet, causing it to squawk at her. Rolling her eyes, she leaned her shoulder against the doorbell, filling the museum with another offensive buzz.

  “Does it have to be so loud?” Sydney stood a few feet behind him, her hands on her hips, her dark hair shining in the museum lights.

  He considered ignoring his cousin, taking Sydney in the back so he could spend more time alone with her, figure out what the hell he was going to do about his feelings for her, but the disappointed look on Claire’s face tugged at his heart. He couldn’t leave her standing out there alone.

  “It’s a big building.” Twisting the lock, he pushed the door open, and Claire’s face lit up.

  “Were you napping in the back or something?” She moved toward the entrance, but Blake didn’t budge from the doorway.

  “Now’s not the best time.”

  “I brought dinner.” She stood on her toes to peer over his shoulder at Sydney. “Are they about to start the investigation? We can take it to the park to eat.”

  “No. That doesn’t start until later, when the rest of the team gets here.” Could she not take a hint?

  Claire cocked an eyebrow. “So, you’re here alone with Sydney? I hope I’m not interrupting anything…”

  Hint taken and ignored. Typical. He forced a neutral expression and let out a slow breath, racking his brain to remember why he had agreed to sign on as her babysitter.