by Autumn Skye
“Do you believe it?”
“I've stayed here many times and never seen anything unusual, but the story doesn't end with Libby. There's a bit of a twist, as there should be with all good stories.” She paused until I urged her to tell the rest.
“Go on. You can't end the story without the twist.”
“There's another house in St. Louis, Missouri. It's said to be haunted by Estella's spirit.”
“Oh, are you kidding?”
“No, that legend has actually gotten national attention from the paranormal experts. It seems that Estelle came to a bad end as well. Someone, a friend of the family, murdered her along with her parents a year after she left Texas. Only her sister escaped the house alive. Most everyone who’s ever lived in the house say they've seen Estella and can sometimes hear a young girl crying when no one is there. So, we have two spirits here on earth because neither could leave the other behind, but they're tragically trapped and separated by over a thousand miles. They can never be together, if you believe the story.”
“You enjoyed telling that, didn't you?” I asked.
“I've always found the history of this house fascinating, and the place itself is charming. Remember when you asked me what I would do if I didn't have the gallery?”
“Yeah?”
“I'd run a place like this, out here in the country. The simple life does have its appeal.”
“That's odd that you'd think so, considering you spent so long running around Europe having who knows how many exotic adventures. Besides, living with ghosts doesn't sound so simple.”
“If Libby exists, she's never hurt anyone. It's Estella who's known for her temperament. She's been said to have caused a lot of freak accidents.”
“Then maybe don't buy that house and turn it into a bed and breakfast, but otherwise, is it so hard to see yourself doing something like that?”
“Not hard, but it's not probable, either. Everyone dreams of doing something else than what they're doing.”
“Yes, they do. The difference is, you have the means to make it happen anytime you want.”
“What about you? What's your fantasy life?”
“You already know mine. I'd be a full-time artist. Someone would be evaluating and assessing my work instead of me assessing other artists. Or, since we're fantasizing, if I were independently wealthy like you, I might not paint for money. Maybe I'd just do it for myself.”
“Why do you push me when you don't take your own dreams seriously and pursue them?”
“Because unlike you, I don't have the means. I'm as far as you can get from a trust fund baby.”
“I'm not a trust fund baby. I'm an heiress,” she said, bordering on haughty. I decided not to ask her the difference.
“Still, you have the money. You could buy any bed and breakfast, or even any hotel. You should think about it.”
“Maybe I will. Does that satisfy you?”
“I don't think you mean it.”
“Do I have to think about it right this minute?”
“No.”
“Then, now that I have you good and spooked, thinking you might see the apparition of Libby Harper floating over the bed any second, let's get some sleep.”
“I'm not spooked.”
“Now whose lying, Kat?” she teased, reaching to shut off the lamp and throw me into a darkness that seemed more sinister after hearing the history of the house.
She left me no choice. I snuggled close to her. She didn't seem to mind. She threw an arm over me and was breathing heavily in sleep before I got up enough courage to close my eyes.
So, okay, maybe she'd spooked me a little, but there was still no place I'd have rather been then lying there beside her.
Chapter Twelve
Katrina
Whether or not the story of Libby was true or exaggerated, we made it through the night fine once I managed to fall asleep. She was standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting with her hair, which she'd pinned up, when I woke.
“Morning,” I said with a yawn.
“Good morning. Want to grab some breakfast before we head home?”
“I could go for some pancakes or waffles.”
“Go grab a shower and meet me in the restaurant.”
“You know, I can't help but thinking we wasted a perfect opportunity.”
“How so?”
“Well, here we are, in a romantic bed and breakfast and we literally slept together all night.”
“You're referring to us not fooling around?”
“A little fooling around would have been okay,” I said, stretching my arms over my head.
“I enjoyed the evening, nevertheless. Maybe you and I are more than that.”
“Are you saying we're in a relationship?”
“We're very comfortable with each other. We could be heading in that direction, if that's all right with you.”
“I hope we are. Otherwise, I’m a cheap and easy thrill” It was meant as a joke, but it came out sounding flat. At that point it would have been a relief just to know where I stood with her.
I got dressed and met her at the restaurant. She was sitting at the same table we’d shared the previous night. In the light of the day, with the restaurant now open for business, the ambiance was different, cozy with less of a gothic feel. After we ate we climbed back into the limo and headed to Plano. I hated to say goodbye to the place.
“I hope we can come back here sometime. I really enjoyed it.”
“We will,” she promised. “We could officially declare this our place. It'll give us something to look forward to.”
Again, her words made everything seem so up in the air. We were past the point of a one-night stand, but not officially committed, but we did have a special place that was ours.
Once back at her place, we got to work on the portrait, the reason I was supposed to be there, yet had all but neglected after just one short sitting.
“Do you have plans for Halloween?” she asked, pulling on her robe after we'd done another session and made some progress on the portrait.
“Not since I was twelve,” I quipped.
“Ryan is having a costume party.”
“I'd prefer staying in and stuffing our faces with candy while we watch scary movies.”
“We could do both, make a short appearance at the party and then head back here.”
“After our sudden exit at his last party, could we really get away with that again?”
“I don't see why not.”
“I still like the idea of skipping it, unless it's business related. You know, more networking.”
“Now you're learning. There's always more networking to be done. Never let an opportunity go to waste.”
“You're right. I'm being lazy. I've been enjoying our time together so much I almost forgot you hired me to help you run a gallery.” Though now I couldn't guess for how long. She had an interest in selling and I'd have to contemplate what that meant for me sooner or later. I'd only just gotten the job and I might be out of it soon.
“Yes, the weekend is almost over. It's back to work we go,” Corrine said, a touch of regret in her tone.
“A costume party, huh? What are you going as, the ghost of Libby Harper?” I teased her.
“Very funny. I haven't decided yet. What do you suggest?”
“You have that dark mysterious look going for you. I'd say fortune teller.”
“I could work with that. Now, what about you? How about a sexy nurse?”
“Um-no.”
“What then?”
“I'd rather be a Greek goddess.”
“Perfect. We'll get you a toga. You'd be perfect as Aphrodite.”
“The goddess of love, huh?”
“I have no doubt you could pull it off.”
“All right, I'll dress up and attend the party, but you owe me several popcorn balls and a bowel of candy corn when we get home.”
“Deal. I'll even throw in a bar of chocolate.”
�
��Even better. I guess for now I should be getting back to my place. I'll see you in the morning?”
“Bright and early.”
I walked over to her and put my arms around her neck. She gave me a deep kiss that made me want to stay a little longer, but I knew if I did neither of us would make it to the office on time and Shelia was no doubt at home anxiously awaiting the details of my weekend. I couldn't remember the last time my friend and I had discussed our love lives over a cup of coffee. There hadn't been much for me to tell up till then. I still couldn't say where it was Corrine and I were headed relationship wise. All I knew was that we were more than sex, but the sex we did have was sizzling hot. On second thought, I realized that might make for a good conversation over coffee with Shelia. I'd probably have her hanging on my every word if I were the type to tell the most intimate details of my sex life to someone. Unlike her, however, I wasn't.
***
First thing Monday morning I got to work on searching for private sellers so that I could do my part in enhancing the auction Corrine was planning. I thought she was way off shooting for spring, or even late summer. Did she expect valuable art to fall out of the sky? She seemed to have forgotten that her father had spent years accumulating his own private collection. The harder I worked, the more impossible the task seemed, but I wasn't about to tell her that. She had her mind set and was convinced that throwing enough money at something could make it happen, no matter how ambitious it was. I imagined she'd made phone calls. I wasn't the only one she had hunting for treasures. I had the feeling she was in an urgent rush to have the auction over with, so she could close that chapter of her life and move on, maybe back to Europe, or some place else far away from me.
The huge project looming did nothing to dampen our appetites for each other however. Most of my tasks were one-person jobs and when Corrine was in my office, behind the locked door, work was usually the furthest thing from our mind. I'd lost count of how many times I'd found myself bent shamelessly over my desk, or my back pressed to the wall as she took great pleasure in bringing me to yet another shuddering orgasm. The thick heavy scent of sex always seemed to hang in the air, so much so that I wondered how none of the rest of the staff ever noticed. Or, maybe they did. Maybe we weren't fooling anyone and that might be all right. I didn't get the feeling that Corrine was necessarily trying to keep us a secret. She simply wasn't shouting from the roof tops that she was having a steamy affair with her assistant. She seemed content to let things unfold as they would and let people figure it out for themselves, or not figure it out. She seemed not to spend a lot of time giving fucks about what other people thought, except when it came to her gallery. Even then, it was plain to see she wished she didn't have to care but was far more worried about her father's memory than her own reputation.
When Halloween night arrived, she picked me up at my apartment. This time she knocked on the door instead of having me meet the limo outside. I’d insisted that it was time for her to meet Shelia, mostly so that my curious, prying friend would stop badgering me. I answered wearing a Victorian gown.
“What happened to the Greek goddess idea?” Corrine asked.
“I thought this was more fun. I'm going as Libby Harper. No one else will get that. It's our own little joke.”
“I like it. You look charming. Where'd you find it?”
“Online. I had to pay extra for overnight delivery.”
“You mean I had to pay. All work-related clothes get reimbursed, remember?”
“That's right. I'd forgotten.”
“No, you didn't.”
“No, I really didn't. I'd never spend so much money on one dress. I feel a bit guilty about it. I like your costume, too, by the way. I was right. You make a good looking fortune teller.”
“Thanks. Maybe we should blow off the party and head back to my place.”
“Don't tempt me. I'm the one who didn't want to go in the first place,” I reminded her.
“Before the two of you take off, you might want to invite Ms. McDowan inside and introduce us,” Shelia interjected.
I moved aside so Corrine could step into our home, suddenly aware of just what a tiny living space we had. We considered it cozy, but to her it probably appeared small and cramped. When Shelia and I had decided to become roommates, we'd picked the place out together, more concerned with finding a home that fit our budget than how much space we’d have. I suspected the entire apartment was the size of Corrine's master bedroom, but she didn't give any sign that she noticed.
“I'm Corrine, Katrina's boss. It's nice to meet you,” she said to Shelia.
“I'm Shelia. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” she paused. “So, you two are off to a costume party. That sounds like a great time. I'm staying home and handing out the candy to the trick or treat brats. They should start ringing the doorbell any minute.”
“Katrina, you should have mentioned your friend didn't have plans. I could have invited her to come along.”
“Well, it's business.”
“It's a costume party. Who would know who she is, much less why she's there?”
“It's okay, but I wouldn't mind us three getting together for drinks some evening. Katrina tells me you two have become close friends. Should I be jealous?”
If looks could kill, I'm sure my glare would have dropped my oldest and best friend to the floor.
“Don't be silly. There's enough of her to go around,” Corrine quipped.
“Then we should make plans soon,” Shelia said.
“Shouldn't we get going?” I directed my nudge to Corrine, afraid if I didn't get her out of there Shelia was going to give her the third degree and ask what her intentions towards me were. I wouldn’t have put it past her. My friend got a kick out of watching me squirm.
“I guess we should,” Corrine said.
“Can I expect you home tonight?” Shelia asked, giving me a knowing look.
“I'm not sure.”
“What she means is, 'Don't wait up.' You never can tell how these evenings are going to end. We were intending to make an appearance and then a fast getaway, but it doesn't always work out like that,” Corrine explained.
“Well, call me if you wake up in Europe,” Shelia said.
I watched as a blush crept across my friend’s fair skin. It was obvious she hadn’t meant to speak the words out loud. She'd done some research and seen that Corrine had fled the country when her father had passed away. I was embarrassed that I, too, had browsed through the online gossip sites and caught up on what they called her shenanigans. They'd painted her as the typical shallow, aimless heiress, leisurely sailing the Mediterranean and blowing gobs of money on partying. That's all they made her out to be, but I knew there was much more to her than that facade. Shelia, however, didn't and now she stood there with her foot in her mouth.
“I promise not to take her further than Vegas,” Corrine said with good humor.
“Katrina is a grown woman. Feel free to take her wherever it pleases the two of you. I wouldn't mind being whisked off to Europe myself,” Shelia recovered.
“I'll meet you outside. I need a second to talk to Shelia,” I told Corrine.
“Okay, don't be too long. There's a difference between fashionably late and rude.”
As soon as Corrine was out of earshot I shot Shelia another furious look. “What's wrong with you? Are trying to get me fired?”
“Oh, my God, there's a huge vibe between you two. The sexual tension is like an electric charge in the air,” she grinned.
“Knock it off.”
“I like her. She's good for you. You're usually so laid back I have to check and make sure you're awake half the time. I haven't seen you this wound up in months, if ever.”
“Just stop.”
“All I'm saying is that you make a cute couple, and she's so, you know, rich. You could do worse.”
“I couldn't care less about Corrine's money. You know me to well to think otherwise.” It was true. Corrine's wealt
h had done very little to make her happy. That was plain to see if anyone cared to look. You don't run away from home for two years because you're so thrilled with your life. Corrine was a fish trapped inside a glass bowl. Even someone like Shelia, who hadn't even known her name a few weeks ago, could spend five minutes on the computer and tell you everything you'd want to know about her past and present. No wonder her biggest fantasy was to live in a reclusive old bread and breakfast out in the middle of nowhere.
“Your friend did her homework, I gather,” Corrine said when I joined her in the limo.
“Don't pay any attention to what Shelia said. She was just curious about my new boss.”
“Your boss, huh? Is that all she thinks I am?”
“No, I told her we'd become “friends.” Is that all right? You never gave me the impression our relationship was top secret.”
“It's not. Nothing in my life is much of a secret,” she said, reaffirming what I’d just been thinking.
“Shelia did have a point. Being swept off to Europe wouldn't be so bad,” I joked.
“Good, because I told you this job involves travel. We'll get there.”
We pulled up to Ryan's house an hour later than Corrine had told him to expect us. That was mostly her fault. She'd picked me up late and from the lack of conversation during the ride, I got the idea she wasn't very enthused about yet another party where she could be the center of whispered rumors.
“It's not too late to turn around and go back to your place. You don't look up for this,” I noted.
“I'm always up for seeing Ryan. He's my oldest friend. I don't know what I would do without him, but the rest of his guest list can go to hell as far as I'm concerned. We'll just have to tolerate them.”
