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Ghost of a Chance
Copyright © 2011 by Deena Remiel
ISBN: 978-1-61333-133-0
Cover art by Fantasia Frog Designs
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
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Ghost of a Chance
Deena Remiel
A 1 Night Stand Story
~DEDICATION~
To my husband, who has always been an ever-present, positive force in my life.
Chapter One
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Susannah. Ah! Such a tragedy. But you’re young and still have a good figure. That’s something, anyway. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of men fighting for your attention. When you’re ready, of course, darling.”
Great Aunt Molly’s wrinkled, pinched face surged toward her, lips poised in a pucker, ready to tattoo Coral Breeze lipstick onto her cheek. The cloying odor of mothballs offended her nostrils as Susannah recoiled in her seat. But she leaned too far back and her chair sunk into the moist ground beside her husband’s grave. Falling backward, she reached out to grab hold of something or someone, maybe Aunt Molly, but the specter offered a sorrowful grin and a wave goodbye. She was falling, falling….
“Oh!” Susannah’s head and shoulders kissed the floor by her bed, the rest of her body tumbling after. She lay prone on the carpet, staring up at the moon shadows on her ceiling. How much longer would she have to endure these bizarre dreams? Chad was gone five years now, almost six. In a week, she would face the anniversary of his death. During the past two weeks, either she woke herself up from laughing so hard, or scratched her head while showering, befuddled by the weirdness of it all.
She inhaled through her nose and let air seep out of her mouth. As she climbed to her feet, ready to return to bed, the view of the sheets lying in a tangled heap reminded her of the restless night and stole away her desire for sleep. She trudged over to her desk and clicked on her laptop with a sigh. Surfing the Internet would occupy her mind and waste the few hours left until she needed to get ready for work.
Google and she were best of pals, so with a quick click on her favorites, saved travel sites popped up. After slaving away for weeks on end with no days off for rest and relaxation, her bizarre dreams were no doubt a result of grinding herself into the ground. With nothing else to occupy her time, why not work until she dropped? Travel teased her weary body, mind, and soul. Well, today she’d finish her project and present it to the board of directors. If they didn’t love her marketing ideas for Vitawater, they were out of their minds. By four p.m., she would be free and clear for a small vacation to recharge the batteries and rejuvenate her spirit.
She stopped on an exclusive resort’s page, Castillo Hotel in Las Vegas. A local establishment, just a couple hours from her home, and from the pictures, breathtaking.
Wouldn’t it be great if I had a guy to go with it? What a tantalizing idea. I haven’t had either in such a long time. This is just what I need. I think I’ve worked hard enough to pamper myself, so it’s first class all the way.
She reserved the most expensive suite at the resort for the following weekend then called her best friend, Josie. Unable to sit still, she related her crazy idea of not only having a relaxing weekend, but also hooking up with a guy for one magical night.
“You must use Madame Evangeline’s 1Night Stand. It’s an exclusive dating service, and I know from personal experience, she’s got a way of making meeting a guy a most wonderful event. I’m a satisfied customer. I’ll send her web address to you right now.”
“Oh, Josie! You rock, girlfriend! I can’t believe I’m doing this, but then again, I can. I have to, you know….”
“Yeah, I hear ya, sweetie. You’ve been solo far too long.”
“This just feels right, as crazy as it is. I’m ready.”
“Listen, I haven’t told a soul about this because my family is so stuck up when it comes to ‘the proper way’ of finding a partner, I’d never hear the end of it. You’re the first I’ve told. But last year I’d wanted—no, needed—to connect with someone. You know how horrible work had become, and I missed feeling wanted and important to someone, anyone. Madame Evangeline came through with flying colors. I had a one-night stand and he turned out to be the man of my dreams.”
“You mean Brandon?”
“Yup! We told everyone we met at a coffee shop, but I couldn’t keep it secret from you any longer, knowing that this could be a game-changer for you as well.”
“You’re amazing! Thanks so much. I don’t know what I’d do without ya’!”
“You’re very welcome.”
“I’ll call you when I get back. Adios, my dear!”
“Good luck!”
Susannah checked her email and sure enough, Josie had already forwarded the information she needed to contact the dating service.
An excited chill coursed through her as she reviewed the web page. No dating service or friend fix-me-up that Susannah had tried since Chad’s death had come close to what 1Night Stand offered, an opportunity to escape everything and live in the moment. It sounded as though a lot of time and preparation went into each match. Rigorous background checks, personality profiles, and more. Could she make the arrangements in time for her weekend plans?
Filling out the application with shaking fingers, her mind flew. Six years! Aunt Molly and Josie’s words rang in her ears. She should be able to find a lasting love again. A single night with a perfect match could give her the confidence she needed to rejoin the world of the living.
At thirty-one, she still had her curvaceous figure and not a touch of gray lay hidden in her long, black hair. It wasn’t as though she harbored some twisted need to stay faithful to her dead husband. She’d loved him for such a long time, but he’d been taken by cancer and she couldn’t spend the rest of her life mourning his death. She preferred to celebrate the time they had together and move on. And everyone around her who knew and loved her agreed. Fingers on the keyboard, already caught up in the surreal excitement of it all, she completed the forms, adding a comment about her reservation at the Castillo Hotel for the coming weekend. With a determined mindset, she clicked Submit. Now, she’d wait to hear back from Madame Evangeline.
Fifteen minutes later, she received her answer. She opened her email, read it, and laughed. Madame was good. She hurried to reply.
Yes, I meant it when I said I wanted a magical experience that I would remember for a lifetime. Whatever it takes.
One never knew where one night could lead.
***
Remy stared at the miniature rock garden outside the window of his suite at the Castillo Hotel, lost in thought. He loved his friends for all they had done to he
lp him so far. Unfortunately, none of their matchmaking attempts had resulted in a favorable conclusion…an end to his blasted curse. He continued to exist as a ghost of the man he’d been ten years ago, thanks to his vengeful ex-wife, Tracy, and her voodoo freak of a friend, Secoya.
Those bitches! Okay, so he could admit to never being around when Tracy and he were married, choosing to focus on building his Global Responsibility empire instead. She’d accused him in court—with good reason—of being a ghost of a husband. Although the divorce had been finalized, with her receiving a hefty chunk of his money, she’d harbored enough anger and resentment to turn him into a real ghost.
It had taken some years, but he’d gained humility and learned what an ass he’d been. A few years back, he’d gone to Tracy’s house to apologize and thank her for showing him his errant ways, to show her he’d changed. The witch sneered at his heartfelt attempt to reconcile and refused to reverse the curse. He’d never forget her words that day. “If you can remove this curse on your own, then I will know you’ve truly changed.”
Secoya came to him in secret one day. Not wanting to betray her friend and go against her wishes, but feeling a bit of guilt over what she’d done to him, she told him a precious piece of information. Only the touch of a woman who loved him could restore him to his corporeal form.
I’m as good as gone.
Even though people could see his outline, that’s all they could do. He shook his head in dismay. With all the possible prospects, friends and strangers alike, rejecting him, seeking out Madame Evangeline’s exclusive and unique help would be his last chance to get his life back. He remembered the words in her email to him. Where there is love, there is a way.
My life is in your hands, Madame. I hope you’ve found a woman who can feel mine.
Chapter Two
One huge bonus check deposited into my bank account. Suitcase packed. Cell phone turned off. No distractions and one fabulous weekend ready to be experienced.
Checklist complete. A wide grin spread across Susannah’s face as she locked her front door and headed for the limo idling in the driveway. She’d promised herself first class, and the luxury ride was only the beginning. Butterflies flitted about in her stomach as she settled back in her seat with a crystal flute of champagne, musing over the possibilities for the weekend. Madame Evangeline had assured her tonight would be magical.
With each sip of sparkling wine, another week’s worth of tension and anxiety dissolved. The results of her workaholic lifestyle were impressive. She’d climbed to the top echelons in the marketing firm she worked for, leaving her no time to think of anything else or to have a social life. It’s what she’d wanted at the time, to take her mind off her grief.
Today, she’d play it casual and relax. Do I remember how to do that? Relax? She laughed. I’ll sunbathe by the pool with a drink in one hand and a book in the other. Or maybe I’ll just enjoy my in-room Jacuzzi. She closed her eyes and let the bubbly work its magic. A two-hour ride lay ahead of her, so she rested the drained glass in a holder and splayed out across the expansive seat. It took moments for her body to sink into the plush cushioning and for her to doze off into oblivion.
***
“So you’re dating someone new, Susannah? What? You’re surprised I know that? Your mother shares everything with me. She gets a funny feeling about him. He plays Mr. Transparent, but he’s hiding something. She won’t tell you that. But I will.”
Great Aunt Molly pointed a boney finger at Susannah. Her voice took on an ominous tone. “He’s no good for you. Don’t love him. He has evil around him. Mark my words.”
“Ma’am? Ma’am! Wake up. We’ve arrived at your hotel.”
“Hmm? Oh, already? Oh my,” she muttered, embarrassed as she righted herself on the back seat and swiped at the slight bit of drool that had leaked onto her cheek. “Thank you. I’ll just get myself together first, if you don’t mind.”
“Take your time, ma’am.”
She dug into her purse for a mirror. In it, she saw Great Aunt Molly’s stern face, for just a moment, then it was gone and her own sleepy eyes gazed back at her. “Lordy! Maybe I should lay off the drink.”
What a strange dream—as weird as all the others she’d experienced in the past few months. Perhaps a couple days rest would stop these assaults on her mind. She refreshed her makeup and hair then tapped on the divider, alerting the driver she was ready.
***
Susannah explored her ground floor suite, opening the myriad of doors, mouth agape. She found it resplendent in rich tapestry curtains, overstuffed sofas and chairs, lush silk bedding in soothing hues of ocean blues and greens, and equipped with a luxurious bathroom boasting a spa tub as its centerpiece. If she’d had the slightest notion relaxing here would be rough, her surroundings would have changed her mind. She opened the French doors and sat on the ergonomic chaise lounge, admiring the desert-scape around her patio. Now, this is living the high life!
The bang of a door slamming behind her jolted her out of her seat. She yelped and turned to find the bathroom door closed. Freaky. Must have been the breeze from opening these doors. I’m wound too tight! She settled back into her chair and made a mental list of the relaxing things she could do for the rest of the day until her date.
A tinkling bell sounded from deep within her suite—twice. How quaint to have an actual doorbell for her room. When she opened the door, she saw no one in the hallway then noticed an envelope lying on the floor by her feet. She picked it up and turned it over to find an initial E on the flap. It must be from Madame Evangeline.
She slipped back into the suite and hurried to the desk to open it. The card, elegant in a champagne-colored, brocade design, had delicate scrolling letters written on it: I hope you enjoy your special evening. Remy Charles is an extraordinary gentleman who deserves to spend time with someone who believes in the magic of love. You’ll recognize him when you see him. He’ll be waiting for you at the Lover’s Fountain at nine p.m.
She’d read about a famous water feature, inside the hotel, set in a rotunda decorated with trees, bushes, and flowers reminiscent of a private garden. If she remembered correctly, this area had special lighting that mimicked the natural rhythm of the day and evening.
She sifted through the information pages of the guest binder until she found a picture of the fountain. Sure enough, it was the one she’d seen, featuring a sculpture of embracing lovers standing atop the massive stone structure. Would she find herself held in such a way by her match tonight?
She had a date with Remy Charles, well-known Global Responsibility owner and CEO, and a recluse for the past ten years. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or scared shitless that Madame Evangeline paired them. The woman had a superior track record which buoyed Susannah’s confidence, but until she met the man in person and spent time with him, Madame’s success in this instance remained to be seen.
Back to relaxing, my dear! You have to be ready for anything tonight!
***
Remy scanned the note he’d found on his foyer table. No sense in trying to pick it up. Madame Eve had wished him luck in his romantic pursuits. If this worked, he didn’t see how he could ever repay her.
He would meet Susannah Cravens at the Lover’s Fountain tonight. He need only wait a few hours more to begin his quest for freedom from the curse. He prayed she wouldn’t run away at the sight of him, that she would stand her ground and agree to continue with their date. If Madame picked her, she must be some special woman.
What he knew of her from her bio, he liked. Ambitious, imaginative, a career-driven person—just like he used to be. Finding out what initiated her lifestyle, though, broke his heart. She’d lost a husband at a young age, and yet here she was, taking on the dating scene in the hopes of finding love again. Maybe we can make this work. Time will tell.
Chapter Three
Susannah released the last vestiges of work-related tension with a self-imposed, mandatory, two-hour lazing about under a po
olside umbrella. Two icy margaritas and a long, hot shower capped off by a short nap completed her transformation. Fifteen minutes before her date, though, she began to fidget. Should I leave my room now?
It would take her about five minutes to get to the fountain. She’d made sure of that earlier when she was done sunning herself, heading over to it and walking back to her room from there. Old habits died hard, and being on time was a big one for her, but she didn’t want to appear too eager. Susannah took another lap around the suite, stopping in the bathroom to check her hair and makeup. Her cheeks had a healthy glow thanks to her afternoon by the pool, and her lips shimmered with gloss. The black tank dress she wore accentuated her curvy assets and the heels she elected to wear gave her the sexiest ankles. She laughed at the thought. And how do I know this? I don’t! But Chad used to comment on them from time to time, so maybe they are.
Scrutinizing herself for the last time, she smiled and took a deep breath. What did she have to lose but her pride? If I make a fool of myself, then it’s just one night. She glanced at the page she’d printed out with Remy’s picture and bio on it.
He sure is handsome. Black as midnight hair that fell in a short but tousled style, piercing eyes the color of the bluest summer sky, and a dimpled cheek accentuating the chiseled features of his tanned face, all combined into an intriguing photo of an enigmatic man. A woman would be nuts to let him go. And yet, someone had. He listed himself as divorced. What’s made you so reclusive, Mr. Charles? And what on earth does Madame Evangeline think I can do about it? I guess it’s up to me to find out She put the printout down and walked out of her room, down the hall toward the rotunda.
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