Keep Me Ghosted (Sophie Rhodes Romantic Comedy #1)

by Karen Cantwell

The experience was worse than any nightmare that I’d ever had in my life. Coming into a mess like this without a plan that we knew would work was not the smartest idea in the world. The pain in my stomach grew and grew, radiating outward, and just when I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore...it stopped.

  Everything stopped.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  MY PAIN WAS GONE AS if it never had existed. The terrible sound in my ears—vanished. Everyone in the room was silent.

  Cal tapped me lightly on the shoulder and whispered in my ear. “Sophie. Look.”

  I uncurled from my fetal ball to look at the ceiling, which was now just a ceiling. Marmaduke stood, perfectly fine, behind the reception desk. I started to call out to him, but Cal stopped me.

  “Shh,” he said, then pointed to the left of the desk at the beginning of the hallway.

  There, on his knees and weeping, was Jonathan, staring up at a visibly lighter, happier Jina. She looked at him with so much love and warmth that I ached for the both of them. “Jina, I miss you. Don’t leave me again.”

  “I know,” she said, reaching out to him. She was fading away. He knew it. We all knew it. “I know you miss me, Johnny. But you need to move on.”

  “We would have had a child. We would have gotten married and had a family. How can I move on?”

  “There is no would have, Johnny. There’s only what is. And you need to keep creating what is.”

  She was as thin as the thinnest tissue now.

  “Jina!” Jonathan bawled. “I love you.”

  Having evaporated completely so that all any of us saw was hallway, her final words lingered. “I love you too, Johnny. But there’s another who loves you, too. Reopen your heart. Your future is rich.”

  For the longest time, no one said anything. Cal helped me sit up and squeezed my hands tightly.

  Astrid knelt on the floor to console Jonathan, her arms wrapped around him as his body heaved from sobbing.

  Mrs. Wiley, her hair whipped into a frenzy around her head, released a heavy sigh and fell back against the wall. “It seems I wasn’t needed for communication to occur here. You did just fine on your own. Young lady,” she said, somewhat as an afterthought, “promise me you’ll never go on the Internet again.” She closed her eyes, then reopened them and added, “Ever.”

  Astrid nodded and continued to rub Jonathan’s back while his sobbing slowed.

  “I’m not sure about the communication, but I know this wouldn’t have ended well without you, Mrs. Wiley.” Cal pulled me to stand. “Thank you.”

  She gave him a faint smile, obviously worn out from the ordeal. “How are you Sophie?”

  “I’m good. I swear though, it felt like something bit me.” I pulled my t-shirt back from my shoulder and craned my neck to look. “Do you see anything?”

  Cal’s eyes widened. He skimmed the skin on my shoulder with his index finger. “I can’t believe this. It looks like a bite mark.”

  “Marmi, do you remember anything?”

  “Do I remember anything? Does a bird remember a migration route? Does the salmon remember where to spawn? Does a mother remember—”

  “Oh boy.” Cal rolled his eyes. “Someone’s back to normal.”

  “Sir, my dearest Sophie, sweet, kind Mrs. Wiley, let me just say that I found myself perched on the edge of a precipice that descended into what surely must have been Hell. That is the only reasonable explanation. The screams and moans of lost souls, arms reaching, scratching, attempting to pull Jina and myself into their foul, morbid misery. I do believe now, that Evil incarnates, and it arises from that pit of doom.”

  Jonathan and Astrid moved to a pair of chairs and sat huddled, comforting each other. “I’m sorry,” said Astrid. “It’s all my fault. I brought her back, and then I kept making it worse.”

  Mrs. Wiley patted Astrid’s arm warmly. “We don’t really know that dear. True, you brought her here, but how this ensued... you can’t be sure.” She ceased the patting and reached to her hair, working it into something presentable. “But truly, I mean it about the Internet. And witchcraft. Stay away from it all. Obviously not for you.” She adjusted her shirt. “If we’re done here, there are two boys at home who need dinner.”

  “Thank you,” everyone sing-songed in unison.

  “Sophie,” sighed Marmaduke. “You saved my very soul today. I am forever in your debt. But for now, I should like to rest.” He faded from sight.

  “You’re not leaving me, are you Marmi?” I yelled out, slightly panicked. Until I almost lost him, I didn’t realize what a wonderful friend he was.

  He reappeared, but just for a moment. “No, my friend. I shall not. You, as I have heard you say before, are stuck with me.” He smiled weakly, and disappeared again.

  After putting the office back together a third time, we bid Jonathan and Astrid goodbye and good luck, then headed back to my place, stopping first at my favorite pizza spot for a large New York pizza to go.

  As the morning began, with Cal and I eating breakfast at my little kitchen table, so our evening was ending, with the two of us scarfing down some really good and greasy dinner. I was hoping the food would help abate the pounding headache that had snuck up on me during the drive home.

  It did help a bit, but not entirely. I went to the bathroom, took two aspirin, then decided, just in case, to brush my teeth. I did it as quietly as possible. Didn’t want to seem anxious or anything. Then I swished some mouthwash around in my mouth just for good measure.

  When I returned, Cal was standing by the door. My heart sunk.

  “You’re going?”

  “I probably should. Work tomorrow and everything. But I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Eh. A little headache. I just took two aspirin. Guess I’ll hit the sack early.”

  “I uh...” he laughed, not finishing his sentence.

  “What?”

  “I was about to say that I had a good time today.” He laughed some more. “At least it started out good, right?”

  “Started out really good,” I agreed. “Ended... I guess it ended well, despite the little hiccup.”

  “Those two—Jonathan and Jina. They were really in love. Young, but really in love.”

  “Yeah. I hope he moves on like she told him to.”

  Cal nodded. “Yeah.”

  I pondered the idea of being bold and asking Cal to stay a while, but didn’t quite have the courage to spit it out.

  Luckily, Cal bridged the gap between us. He looked into my eyes. “I, uh...” nervously, he glanced down at his hands, then back to my eyes. “I’m finding that I’m very attracted to you.”

  Stepping closer, until I could feel his breath on my face, I responded profoundly. “Yeah?”

  Slowly, our faces gravitated toward each other. He brushed my arm with his hand. “At least you’re not running from the room screaming.” His mouth pulled into that adorable crooked smile.

  I shook my head. My knees were wobbly and my heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears. I licked my lips. “No. I’m finding that I’m very attracted to you, too.” It was going to happen. We were going to kiss and I was so, so ready. “Very,” I added. “It must be your soap.”

  “Must be,” he whispered before touching his soft, warm lips to mine.

  Hallelujah! He was a good kisser! Scratch that. He was a great kisser. An exceptional kisser. A phenomenal... Oh no, I was starting to think like Marmaduke. I reached up, pulled his face down and went in for longer, deeper, spine-tingling, and spectacularly arousing lip-lock. His lips were tender but confident, and when he gently brushed his tongue over my bottom lip, I moaned.

  He pulled away from the embrace just a bit and smiled. He kissed my nose. “That was nice.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Cured my headache.” I didn’t mention that another part of me ached now, the sensation far more agreeable.

  We both breathed heavily and I know we both desired more than another kiss. I caressed his face with my hand. He took my han
d, kissed it, and held it tight. “Sophie,” he said, pulling away slightly more. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

  I tried to suppress the flinch. The infamous I’ve-been-wanting-to-tell-you-something can never end good. I’ve been wanting to tell you something: I’m gay. Been there done that. Although he didn’t kiss like he was gay. I’ve been wanting to tell you something: I’m bisexual. I hadn’t heard that one before, but there’s always a first time. I’ve been wanting to tell you something: I’m an alien from the planet Zork. Hey, I’d just spent the afternoon rescuing two ghosts from the claws of Hell brought on by an internet spell gone wrong. Anything was possible.

  I swallowed. “Is it bad?”

  He coughed. “No, no. Not really... it’s just kind of hard to say.”

  “What?”

  He closed his eyes, squeezed them tight, then opened them and gazed into my eyes. “It’s just... the office.” He spit out the last two words and I wasn’t entirely convinced by his statement, but I went with it.

  “You mean that we work together? I mean, that I work for you? You think it’s a problem?”

  “No! No. I was, uh, meaning, the office and struggling to get it off the ground. It’s been stressful. I just think we should take it slow. And you’re right, especially since I’m your boss.” He nodded as if this strengthened his argument. “I’d like to take you out again—soon—but we should probably, you know, go slow. Until... until the office is, uh, settled.”

  “The office settled?” I shook my head. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Does it matter?” He leaned in and kissed me again, slowly, softly.

  I guess not, I thought. Reading between the lines, I figured he was talking about sex. Sure, I could wait. A while. I leaned into the embrace and let myself enjoy. If he wanted to wine and dine and romance me who was I to argue? Better than beer and shots at Barney’s anytime.

  When we’d finally pulled ourselves from each other’s lips and Cal had left for the night, I locked the door behind him and leaned into it, smiling so widely my cheeks hurt. He sure was cute. And way sexier than he seemed when we first met.

  “Marmi?” I called out quietly.

  He didn’t appear, but he talked to me. “Yes, Sophie.”

  “He kissed me.”

  “That’s good. I am so very happy for you.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just peachy. Resting. Standing at the gates of Hell takes some energy from a soul.”

  “Thank you, Marmaduke.”

  “For what?”

  “You know what.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  “Good night,” I said.

  “Good night, fair Sophie. Sweet dreams.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I DID DREAM SOME WONDERFULLY SWEET dreams, and while I physically drove to work in a hot and cranky car, mentally I was flying on Cloud 9. I arrived before Cal—I had to remember to call him Dr. Callahan in front of patients—made his coffee, listened to messages, wrote up his schedule for the day and placed it in his exam room with a sticky note attached that said Have a good day, Doctor. I drew a heart under the word Doctor. It was so cute and silly. Five minutes later I decided it was too silly, ran into the exam room, and ripped it off before Cal arrived. Best to keep things professional in the workplace, I reasoned.

  I was on the phone scheduling a new patient exam when he walked through the door with a briefcase in one hand and some odd piece of equipment in the other.

  He smiled, but no more than he did on other days. He gave me a nod and rushed past. When I was done making the appointment, I wondered if I should get up and be the first to break the ice or if I should wait for him to be the brave one. Suddenly, I was feeling awkward and unsure of how to handle myself.

  This business of dating and working as employer and employee was going to be worse than I thought. But, I told myself, it was all just a matter of learning how to roll with it. Like getting up on a pair of ice skates for the first time—we’d lose our balance a few times, maybe fall on our butts once or twice, but we’d get the hang of it soon enough. However, since he seemed a little distracted when he came in, I decided to hang back and let him be the first to get out on the ice.

  With only a few minutes before our ten o’clock patient was supposed to arrive, Cal appeared at the desk, coffee cup in hand. “Hey, thank you again for making the coffee. It’s nice to have it waiting. But really, don’t feel like you have to do it every day.”

  “Don’t mind at all. It’s all part of my routine now. Lights on, coffee made, listen to messages... wow, I just realized that tomorrow I will have been working here a week. Don’t take this the wrong way, but it feels like it’s been longer.”

  “Yeah. Know what you mean.”

  “So...”

  “So...”

  “Light day of patients.”

  “Yep.”

  “Hope that changes soon.”

  Boy, he was worried about the office. I wondered if he was worrying about affording me. Maybe I was too expensive to keep on. Ah geez, the complications of mixing romance and work just became more and more apparent. “I’m digging into that project—the letters to optometrists. Should have it done today. Hopefully that will help.”

  “Yep.” He sipped from his coffee and watched me. He cocked his head after the sip. “So, last night.”

  I nodded. And smiled, although I held it back as much as possible, again, avoiding that whole desperation factor. Desperation is never an attractive feature in a man or a woman. “Last night. It was... nice.”

  “Yeah, yeah, it was. But, uh, there’s still something—” He was interrupted by the door opening. A woman and her daughter—our ten o’clock patient.

  Darn! I turned on my bright, welcome-to-our-office smile. “Is this Danielle?” I asked the duo.

  “Yes it is,” said the mother in a cheery voice. “Hello Dr. Callahan, how are you?”

  “Good, thank you. It’s nice to see you both again.” He slid me a glance. “I’ll go prepare for the exam.” He turned his attention back to Danielle and her mom, “I’ll get you going in just a couple of minutes.”

  Danielle excused herself to go to the bathroom.

  “Mrs. Burgess, has any of your information changed? Address, phone number?” I asked the mother.

  “Nothing.” She gave me a quick once over. “You’re new.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you like it here?”

  “Very much.”

  “We need more eye doctors like him. I want to write some sort of testimonial—something you can give to other patients considering vision therapy. We’ve just seen so many changes with Danielle. Last week, she just finished reading her first book.”

  I found that hard to believe. Danielle was... I took a quick peek at her file. She was sixteen. “But she’s in high school, right?”

  Mrs. Burgess nodded. “Eleventh grade.”

  “She’d never read a book before?”

  “Never. She couldn’t do it. Said the words floated around on the page.”

  “How did she do book reports? How does she study?”

  Mrs. Burgess’s eyes began to swell with tears. “She talked to friends, asked them about the stories, then she’d wing it. She’s been winging it her whole life. And barely passing.” She was full-out crying now. I handed her a tissue and had to fight back my own tears.

  “Teachers called her lazy for years.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I can’t let her see me crying. She’ll kill me.” She reached for my hand and squeezed. “But she’s so happy too. Won’t admit it, but when she finished that book, she cried too. Then tore right into another one.” She rolled her eyes. “Some vampire book. Who cares? She can read about ghosts and witches and goblins for all I care. As long as she’s reading.”

  Cal and Danielle arrived back at the front desk at the same time. “Are you both ready?”

  He took them back to his exam room and Marmaduke appeared at my side. “
My, my. More accolades for Doctor Wonderful. Or shall we call him Saint Callahan?”

  I was relieved to see Marmaduke back to his old self. Feisty and verbose. “I thought you liked him.”

  “I do. Just having a bit of fun.”

  The phone rang. “Dr. Callahan’s office,” I answered with a friendly, professional voice I’d adopted well over the last few days.

  A woman on the other end barely let me finish with my genial greeting. “Let me speak with Dr. Callahan.”

  Geez. She didn’t say please. Can’t say I liked that. “He’s with a patient,” I said, remaining as friendly as possible. “Can I take a message?”

  “No, you cannot take a message. Put me through to him.”

  “I’m sorry, but Dr. Callahan doesn’t take phone calls when he’s with patients unless it’s an emergency.” Technically, I just made all of that up on the spot, but it seemed like how he’d like things done.

  “It’s an emergency,” she said bluntly.

  I really didn’t care for this woman or her attitude, but I supposed I had to take her claims of an emergency seriously.

  “Are you a patient?”

  “This is his wife.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  WITH SHAKING HANDS, I PUNCHED the hold button and slammed the receiver down. I contemplated my options. I could buzz him directly through the phone intercom system, since I’d learned how to use the convenient function. But then I wouldn’t be able to see his reaction. And he wouldn’t have a chance to be the recipient of my seething and furious glare. He thought Moonflower was violent? He hadn’t seen anything yet. I took several cleansing breaths.

  “Sophie? Is there a problem?” Marmaduke asked.

  “He’s...” deep breath. I shook out my trembling hands. “He’s...”

  “He’s what?”

  “He’s,” I gulped. The word hurt to say. “Married.”

  “Forget what I said. I do not like the man any longer. I despise the cad.”

  The phone beeped at me, reminding me that someone was on hold. Ah geez. For half a second, I considered picking up the line and “accidentally” disconnecting it. Instead, I took another breath, picked up the receiver, and buzzed Cal’s exam room. “Dr. Callahan?” My voice cracked noticeably.