Page 23 of Ghost of a Chance
“Nah.I meant the scholarship.I graduated high school with an AA degree so was a jump ahead.”
Her mom had been working long hours at her job and they both knew that college tuition was going to be a stretch.So Kirsty had done what she could to ensure she graduated with as many college credits as she could.It suited her to study all the time.She’d always been a bit of an emo girl after her dad had left, preferring her music and books to socializing with her classmates.
“That’s cool.Were you always into ghosts?Or were they always into you?”he asked, a sly grin on his face.
Ghosts.Everyone had them.Her mom spent most of her life running from the specter of Kirsty’s father cheating and betraying her trust.And Kirsty felt haunted right this very moment by that little white lie she told all those years ago.So…
“Sure.I guess.You?”
“Nah, this is my first.I mean I thought it was pretty much bullshit and people like you…well—”
“Were conning everyone,” she finished for him.
“Uh…”
“I’m not taking money to help you find a ghost.I also don’t need you to leave me anything in your will,” she said, mentioning two common ways scammers who posed as mediums like to be paid.She’d researched plenty for her series.“Also, you asked for my help.I would have been happy to just go back home and back into my writing cave.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, checking the street before they both crossed it.“Is that where you got the idea for your heroine?Your life?”
Her first book had come from a bouquet of dead flowers in a vase and an ex-boyfriend who she wished would die.Instead of going off the deep end, she wrote about a bloody crime scene and then solved it.It had been cathartic in a way she hadn’t intended.
“Not really.I sort of stumbled into it.”
“Like us.”
She stopped.“What?”
“We stumbled into each other…and look at things now.After years of dealing with Paul, my life’s finally about to go back to normal.”Jasper paused, a faraway look in his eyes.“Maybe it’ll work out for you too.”
Five
She ignored his last statement and kept walking as a light rain began to fall on them, the droplets sticking to the top of her head.The temptation to brush one of them off was so strong he shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.
Helikedher.He’d liked her the night of the Dead Boys concert.But Paul had fucked that up.Or, if he was being honest, he fucked it up for himself by not recognizing her or explaining himself properly the next day.“What are you going to do when you get to the bookstore?”
“Check and see if they have my book.Then introduce myself to the staff and ask if I can sign the stock and put some bookmarks in them,” she said.
“Do they let you?”
“Indie booksellers do.Some of the chains, just depends,” she said.
Once again it was easy to see writing and being an author relaxed her.Her entire demeanor changed when she discussed it.
“Interesting.Have you ever seen someone reading one of your books?”he asked.
“No.”
“What would you do if you did?”
“Nothing.”Her mouth quirked up in a secretive smile.“Well, that’s not true.Maybe I’d try to sneak a photo of them reading it.I don’t know.It’s never happened so it doesn’t matter,” she said, turning onto a street that was lined with small shops.There was a café and bakery on the end that he’d frequented as a student.
She paused in front of it, studying the sign before glancing up at him.A shiver went through him.
“You know this place?”
“Paul and I used to hit it at least twice a day.”
“Tell me more about him,” she invited.
