Ghosts of Christmas (Steamy Bwwm Holiday Romance)

by Kenya Wright

  “My parents are still close friends with him. I’ve seen your father a lot in these past years.”

  I considered that fact. “So. . .you’re the one giving him my phone number every time I change it?”

  Saint frowned.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I know that you need him. I know that you have to forgive him at some point.”

  “Fuck you.” I gripped the front of my gown, needing something to anchor me. “That’s my damn decision, not yours.”

  “I did it because I love you.”

  “Liar.”

  “And I did it because I know you need this to heal.”

  I pointed at him. “You’re a chef, not a psychologist.”

  “But you must admit that sometimes I know you better than you know yourself.”

  “Fuck you, Saint.”

  He took another step closer. “You need to forgive him.”

  Tears left my eyes. “You didn’t have to watch my mother dangle in the air.”

  He looked down at the ground. “Actually. . .Ivy, I did.”

  Sorrow lodged in my throat.

  He whispered, “That day changed both of us forever.”

  Shaking my head, I backed away and grabbed my coat. “One at a time. I can’t do it all this week. I can’t.”

  “Please, don’t go, Ivy.”

  I put the coat on.

  “Let me walk you to your villa at least.”

  “I need time. . .Saint. . .I could love you. I could open my heart to you. But my father. . .I need. . .more time.” I wiped the tears away, but more came. “It hurts to even think about it. Right in my chest. It’s painful. I don’t want to deal with this. I just want to fucking be happy.”

  “Maybe you would be happy from giving him a chance.”

  “I. . .don’t know. Just leave me alone.” I rushed out of there, terrified of listening anymore.

  Outside, cold darkness hit me. It was snowing. Swirls of flakes obscured the path in front of me. Still, I hurried along, hoping I was going in the right direction.

  Dad is here. I can’t deal with him right now. Maybe. . .next year or. . .

  My stomach knotted with sorrow.

  My heels crunched loudly as I headed forward. I squinted, trying to catch the numbers on the villa.

  A dark voice sounded around me. “I-v-y.”

  The air rippled around me.

  I froze in terror. “W-who was that?”

  No one replied.

  I glanced around and could make out nothing but snow falling within inky darkness. Within the air, there was a different type of cold. The sort that brought terror and chills to the spine. The sort that a coat or blanket wouldn’t get rid of it.

  Horrified, I hugged myself. “Who’s there?”

  The silence grew thick and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled with a sudden awareness that I was no longer alone. And whoever had said my name would not be a friend.

  I inched away, deciding to run back to Saint’s villa.

  Okay. I’m going to run fast, even if I have to kick off these damn boots. Fuck that.

  I turned around to race off and spotted a dark figure in front of me. My blood iced. I tried to scream, but the sound lodged in my throat.

  The thing was huge and tall, rising over seven feet in front of me. I didn’t know if the being was a man or woman. Due to the scary deep voice, I figured it was male. He wore a huge, ragged cloak with a hood that covered his face. And the cloak didn’t appear to be made from fabric—at least not one that could be found on earth. It moved back and forth on its own as if living too. The bottom of the cloak spilled out onto the snow like black oil. There was a slit by the neck, but I didn’t see any skin or form of a body, just darkness. The sleeves were long and hung over so far that it hid his hands. The ends of the sleeves touched the ground.

  That dark, deep voice sounded from the hood’s blackness. “I-v-y.”

  I trembled and ran in the other direction.

  Before I could get a few steps forward, that being was in front of me too.

  H-how did that happen?!

  It towered over me. “I-v-y.”

  “W-who are you? W-what are you?”

  “It is t-i-m-e for your last lesson.”

  “What?” I raised my hands in the air. “No. Not this again. I learned it. I love Saint. I. . .”

  “Come.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere. I learned the lesson. I opened my heart to love. I won’t go.”

  “Y-o-u must.” He raised one of his arms to his side. A black hand peeked out. Moving on its own, the cloak dropped to the ground, stretched out, and widened.

  I inched back.

  The sleeve continued to get wider and bigger. He raised his arm higher. And then a spark burst within the fabric. A rip began and widened the material. And then it appeared to be some sort of other reality within the long, wide sleeve—some type of small opening to another realm.

  The dark voice grew louder. “Come.”

  My lip quivered. I pointed to the hole that continued to widen in his sleeve and reveal some other world inside of it. “Go in there?”

  “Yes.”

  I shook my head.

  He pointed his other finger at me. This one was white, instead of black.

  “You will come.” He flicked the white finger.

  A threatening chill cut through me. My knees grew weak.

  I crashed to the ground. “No. What’s happening?”

  Invisible cold hands grabbed at me, inciting prickly sensations on my skin. I screamed. It felt like thirty hands snatching at my body and yanking me forward. I reached out for thin air, trying to move away. They pulled me toward the opening.

  “No!” With no control, I moved in the direction of the black robe. “I’m not going in there!”

  “Come.”

  “No!”

  The world went dark.

  Chapter 19

  Blue Christmas

  Within the ghost’s robe, darkness clogged my throat and blinded me. I heard nothing. Cold wind flickered along my skin. And there was this blackness all over—within me, around me, spilling into my pores, and gnawing at my soul. It was as though it would take my life. I fought to stay in control but all I could do was scream.

  And then it all stopped.

  I lay on something.

  Where am I?

  I opened my eyes and took in the scene around me. Moonlight reflected off the snow in a silvery glow. Where it didn’t glow, shadows surrounded. And they were odd, moving and forming into odd shapes. Wind twisted through the skeletal treetops, bare of leaves and dripping with sharp icicles. Still, I didn’t feel cold. Yet, I hugged myself and looked down at my clothes. I no longer wore the maid of honor gown. I now had on those damn white pajamas.

  Why did that happen? What are the rules to this place?

  I unfolded my arms and rose from the ground.

  Where is that creepy ghost?

  The huge shape crept out of the darkness. “I-v-y.”

  “Yes. Yes. I’m here.” I hugged myself again and stepped back. While the other ghosts were enchanting and calming, this one provided no comfort. All of my senses screamed that something horrible would happen to me.

  There it stood, towering over me. That dark robe swayed back and forth and yet there was no wind. I waited, but he didn’t move toward me.

  I studied the creepy being. “So. . .you dated my mother?”

  No words came.

  This must’ve been right after she died. Surely she would have been in a depressed mood. I mean. . .what really could be under that robe besides things that would bring nightmares.

  He lifted the other arm.

  I edged back.

  The white hand pushed out from the sleeve.

  He has two different colored hands? Why? What’s going on?

  With his white hand, he pointed in my direction.

  I touched my chest. “What?”

/>   “G-O!”

  I jumped. “Go where?”

  He continued to point.

  I looked over my shoulder. Shock hit me. A massive black mansion loomed in front. Or maybe it was more of a modern-looking castle that one would find in a fairytale. But this would be where the evil witch lived. It towered over the gloomy property with high peaks pointed like the jagged teeth of a monster.

  The dark voice sounded behind me. “G-O!”

  “Okay. Okay.” I hurried forward. And something odd happened. Each step was several feet of a glide. I seemed to move in a floating blur along the snow. And the being was at my side, keeping the strange pace.

  I let out a shaken breath. “As I was saying before. I-I’ve already learned my lesson. Thank you. I can wake up now.”

  We continued forward.

  When the front of the mansion appeared, I stopped at the door. It was made of metal as if the owner feared a mob of enemies would come and break it down. At the center of the thick metal door was an ornate knocker carved into the shape of an elephant’s face, reminding me of my grandmother’s love for the animal.

  “Whose place is this?” I looked at the dark ghost. “Do I knock or—”

  He simply walked through the door.

  “O-kay.” I slipped through the door too. It felt like sliding by a heavy sheet hanging in the doorway. Something was there, yet it also was not.

  We entered a dimly lit foyer. Silence thickened the air. A large winding staircase stood before us. It was a grand one, rising several feet in front. It consisted of slabs of black marble. That same black marble also served as the foyer’s floor and walls.

  “What are we doing here?” I didn’t know which was creepier, the being who brought me here or the mansion. I almost wondered if a monster would jump out.

  Footsteps echoed on the stone floor. I looked in that direction. An old woman walked forward, holding a silver tray of food. Wrinkles covered her face. A delicate bun topped her head. She wore a red and black dress. She looked so familiar but I couldn’t figure out who she could be.

  I tried to get a better look at her.

  She walked by us and headed up the stairs.

  “Come.” The dark ghost floated forward and followed her.

  I inhaled courage and walked next to him. “Okay, but where are we? What’s going on?”

  At the top of the staircase, passageways branched off into three shadowed halls. There must’ve been over fifty bedrooms in the whole mansion. However, I doubted many people lived there. The idea of a massive empty place brought chills to my spine.

  Why would someone want to be here. . .all. . .alone?

  The old woman went down the dimly lit hallway in the center. I gazed at the black marble. It appeared the owner wasn’t a fan of bright lights. I wondered if we were in a vampire’s lair. The other two ghosts had taken me to moments from my past Christmases or people’s Christmas moments that I knew. I had no idea whose moment this would be, but I instantly felt sad for them.

  Making it to the end of the hallway, the old woman hummed Jingle Bells and walked through the only opened door. “Here we go, boss.”

  I recognized the old woman’s voice instantly. “Park? Wait. What?”

  I hurried forward.

  Old Park hummed some more.

  A woman’s voice came from the bed. “Oh, Park. Please. Every time you come in here with that humming I can’t get the damn song out of my head.”

  Oh, no. That sounds like me.

  Shaking my head, I didn’t want to turn to the bed, but I did. I looked at the older version of me. The king-size bed appeared to be close to swallowing up my old, frail frame.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Get me out of here. That’s not me.”

  Slowly, Old Me put on glasses and frowned. “What is this, Park? I asked for next year’s Fall designs. Not food.”

  “Boss, it’s Christmas.” Park eased over to the side of the bed and placed the tray on the nightstand next to it. “I’ve brought you dinner.”

  “I don’t want dinner.” Old Me waved it away, grabbed a pack of cigarettes, and pulled one out. “Where are the designs?”

  “Ewww.” I shook my head. “When did I start smoking?”

  Park placed her hands on her hips. “Boss, the doctor said you should stop smoking.”

  “I’m close to dead anyway. What does it matter anymore?” Old Me placed the cigarette in her mouth and lit it. “The designs?”

  Old Park held a sad expression. “On the tray and under your plate.”

  “Thank you.” Old Me blew out smoke. “You can go now. It’s Christmas. Shouldn’t you be with your grandson—Ricky?”

  “His name is Seymore.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re welcome to come over to the West Wing and spend time with us.”

  Old Me inhaled more smoke, leaned over to the tray, and lifted the plate enough to grab the folder. “I’m fine. Have fun. Make sure Ricky doesn’t break anything. Tell Elias I said Merry Christmas.”

  “I will.” Park remained there.

  Old Me placed the folder on her lap and looked up. “What?”

  “This could be a good time to heal old wounds.”

  “Old wounds?” Old Me coughed. It made a violent, liquid sound.

  I shook my head. “Stop smoking! I mean really, Ivy. Really.”

  Park continued. “Perhaps, call Holly or even—”

  “Don’t say his name.” Old Me glared. “And why? They’ve all moved on. Last I heard Saint has two kids. Holly has five. They surely have more to do and think about this Christmas than an old childhood friend.”

  “Holly sent her yearly Christmas card to you. It’s still on your desk, unopened.”

  Ignoring her, Old Me opened the file.

  “This time of year is a great opportunity to forgive. And it’s been so many years.” She waited for a few seconds then spoke again.

  “Never. What they did was unforgivable.”

  “I believe they brought your father to Finland years ago to—”

  “Park!” Old Me looked up, coughed again, and grabbed a red-spotted cloth napkin from the nightstand. She spat blood on the cloth and folded it.

  Ewww. What’s going on? Am I dying or something?

  Old Me set the disgusting napkin down. “We go over this every year. And like last year, I will give you the same response. I don’t need them.”

  “But—”

  “I’ve never needed them. When I got rid of them, everything improved. Look.” Old Me spread her arms out and gestured around the huge, dark room. “I am a success because I cut bad seeds out of my life. Look at this house. My jet. All of my lovers. Many would be happy to have my life.”

  Old Park didn’t appear convinced.

  “Have fun with Ricky.” Old Me returned her attention to the file. “And thank you for the food.”

  “You’re welcome, Boss.” She headed away.

  “And close the door!”

  Park left and shut the door.

  Old Me lifted her view from the folder and stared at the door. Her eyes watered. She scribbled several things onto the folder, finished the cigarette, and then put it out.

  I headed over to the bed to study the older version of me more. “But. . .why wouldn’t you forgive them after all these years? I mean. . .we’re mad, but are we that mad?”

  Any other logical words left me. Only questions tornadoed through my head. How long had I remained upset with Saint and Holly? Why would I so easily shut them away? Sure, I was terrified of facing my father, but that didn’t mean I should start hating them.

  For some reason, I glanced down at the notes. There, Old Me jotted clear instructions on what to do with the line. Everything was super detailed.

  And then Older Me stopped, put the pen down, closed the file, and set it on the bed. Slowly, she moved the blanket and got off the bed too. A determined look mingled with sorrow and filled her eyes. She rose on frail bony legs. Her silk gown fell to
the floor and covered them.

  She opened the dresser drawer in the nightstand next to the bed, pulled out three sheets of paper, and placed them on the bed next to the file of designs.

  What’s going on?

  One step at a time she walked away from the bed.

  I looked at the paper and read it out loud. “I give this property to Park who has been a faithful assistant to me for so many years. The rest of my estate, stock, cars, and jet are to be divided among Holly and Nikolas Madison as well as Saint Ingram. God bless you all.”

  Horror overtook me. “No.”

  I snapped my attention back to her. “Wait. No! What are you doing? Please, don’t, Ivy. Please don’t do this.”

  Old Me made it to glass doors and opened them.

  “Oh no.” I shook my head. “That’s not the way to solve this. Are you kidding me? Just call them. Fix this! It’s that simple! Why are you being so hard-headed? They love you!”

  Old Me stumbled onto the balcony.

  “Wait!” I hurried forward and tried to grab her arms. I just needed to hold her to me and let her know that no matter what it would all be okay. But my hands went through her body, and I couldn’t stop anything. “Please, don’t do this. I love you! They love you!”

  There, Old Me climbed her frail self onto the ledge of the balcony. Tears fell from her eyes. She whispered to the night sky. “I’m sorry.”

  Then she dove out into the darkness.

  “No!” I screamed. My body shook from the horror. My voice burned, but I couldn’t stop. “No!”

  The balcony’s walls crumbled around us. The mansion screeched and cracked. Bits of black marble fell all over the place.

  “No!”

  The dark spirit appeared at my side. “Come.”

  Terrified, I turned to him. “What? We have to save her. We—”

  “Come.” He rose in the air.

  Shocked, I lifted with him. “This isn’t my future. You’re a liar. You’re a bad spirit of some sort. This is not. . .no. I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t! I know what Mom did to everyone when she left like that. No.”

  My body floated with the dark Ghost over the ledge. I looked down. Old Me’s body lay misshapen and broken in the snow. They probably wouldn’t find her until the next morning. The place was so massive.

  “No.” I shook my head. “That’s not me. I rebuke that shit. You’re wrong.”