Page 23 of Speak of the Devil

As it was….

Caleb didn’t seem to notice anything fraught about the situation, though, and only asked if she’d been here before and, if so, whether she had any favorites.

“Their cannelloni is delicious,” she said. “And I love the eggplant parmesan. But really, you can’t go wrong with pretty much anything on the menu.”

“Plus, no worries about ordering the wrong wine,” he replied with a grin.

Not at Battista’s, where house wine was included as part of your dinner. You could always order a cocktail instead, but she was just fine with having some chianti with her meal. After that encounter with the angry ghost by the swimming pool, she knew she needed some kind of muscle relaxant.

“They kind of took the guesswork out of that part,” Delia said. Should she ask him about wine, and whether he knew much about it?

No, that seemed like too personal a question. So far, they were talking about surface-level stuff, and she wanted it to stay that way. Then she could tell herself this wasn’t a date, just a business dinner provided by a grateful client.

Even if Caleb Lowe was by far the best-looking client she’d ever had. When they’d walked into the restaurant, several heads had turned, and Delia was pretty sure those patrons hadn’t been looking at her.

Why would they, when her companion was a guy who looked like a male model?

Their waiter came by and took their orders — Caleb opted for steak, while Delia decided to indulge herself with the cannelloni, mostly because it had been so long since she’d had it that she thought she should revisit the dish to see if it was as good as she remembered.

Once their wine had been dropped off, Caleb said, “How soon do you think I can get started on the renovations?”

Another nice, safe topic. After all, it wasn’t as if she thought they should talk openly about what had just happened at the house on Pueblo Street.

Not that Delia was still entirely certain about what had gone down an hour ago. Yes, she was pretty sure the ghost had been sent off to the next plane…but she also couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the banishment had felt almost too easy, as if herown powers of persuasion weren’t the whole reason why the spirit had decided to move on.

“Probably around a month,” she replied. “Even without having to get financing, it still can take a few weeks to get the title transferred. Waiving the home inspection will speed things up a little, though, and I can make some inquiries with contractors I’ve worked with in the past to see if they’re available.”

This offer seemed to reassure Caleb, because he relaxed against the back of the booth, saying, “That would be a big help. I’ve heard horror stories about people who’ve hired the wrong general contractor and gotten into a world of hurt.”

“Yes, there are plenty of those to go around,” she said. “But I’ve got some good contacts, so we’ll make sure the team who comes in to reno the place won’t leave you stranded.”

They chatted then about the house flips she’d done with her mother, the information appearing to reassure him that much further — not only because it proved she had experience with this sort of project, but also because she knew the right places to go for materials, and who was reliable and who wasn’t.

As they talked, though, Delia couldn’t help wondering just what she was getting herself into. Wasn’t she supposed to walk away after the deal was done and let the buyer handle any renovations?

Most of the time, yes. But somehow she found herself all but promising that she’d hold Caleb Lowe’s hand through the whole process.

Suckered in by a pretty face, she supposed…even while she couldn’t help thinking it might be a little bit more than that.

However, the rest of their meal was uneventful enough, and once they were done, they got in their separate vehicles and headed for home. Yes, they’d meet on Monday so they could sign the offer, and Caleb could give Paige Loomis the bona fides fromhis bank to prove he had sufficient funds for the transaction, but at least Delia would have a little decompression time to try to analyze everything that had happened over the past few hours.

Her neighborhood was about twenty minutes from Battista’s, so she got to the house a little past seven-thirty. She set her purse down on the dining room table and headed over to the sideboard where the fish tank rested, then sprinkled some food into the water.

“Chow time,” she said cheerfully as the tetras and cichlids surged toward the surface to get their nibbles.

That duty handled, she went into the kitchen and poured herself some water from the pitcher in the fridge. Although she’d only had one glass of wine with dinner, she was thirstier than she’d expected and drank almost the whole tumbler, then refilled it.

Most of the time when she’d found a house for a client, she was relaxed and happy afterward — and not only because of the big commission coming her way. No, she was always glad to help people find their forever homes…and that included the ghosts she sent on to the next plane.

Something about this situation felt almost surreal, though, and she didn’t think it was just because of the way the ghost had attacked her.

Caleb’s hand on her arm, sending a shiver through her body that she didn’t think was only because she had been shocked and afraid.

Two violent ghosts in a row. Did that mean anything, or was she just having a run of bad luck?

She took the glass of water with her into the living room and sat down on the couch. The night was chilly enough that she could have turned on the fireplace, but for the moment, she was all right with merely resting on the leather sofa she’d boughta few months earlier and thinking over everything that had happened today.

Was it weird that a thirty-year-old man with no discernible career had this kind of cash to throw around?

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