Page 13 of Ghost Walk
“You’re lucky I’m a ghost, ya wanker.Shemight not want to punch you, but I sure as hell would.” Jamie glowered down at her. “Are youreallygoing to let him get away with this?”
Gracerefusedto care about his obvious disappointment in her. Absolutely refused. “I don’t like confrontations.” She muttered.
“You donea like confrontations?” He echoed incredulously. “How can you not like confrontations?”
“I justdon’t, okay?”
No, it clearly wasn’t okay with him. “Where’s your spirit, lass?” He asked in a confused and troubled voice. Someone so extroverted would never know how scary it was for her to feel the chaos of heightened emotions. To fear that saying too much would unravel everything in her life again.
Grace unlocked the driver’s side door. “I lost my spirit last year, along with everything else.” She muttered. “I burned out.”
“You burned out? What does that…?” Jamie stopped short. “Wait.” His patriot blue eyes flashed over to hers, suddenly realizing she was acknowledging his existence. “You’re speaking to me!” His handsome face lit with hope. “You’re believing I’m real then?”
“No. But, I know I’m not crazy and that’s enough for the moment. If I was crazy, this would all make more sense.”
“What?” Robert frowned, thinking she was talking tohim. “Are you feeling alright, Grace?” He didn’t bother to wait for a response, because he didn’t care. “Look, I’ll need to get dressed, if we’re going somewhere. Since you’re determined to be so childish about this, I’m willing to spend all evening making amends, but I can’t be seen in public without a shirt and tie.”
“Relax, Robert.You’restaying here with Miss Pepperoni.I’mthe one leaving and I’m not coming back.”
“Thank bleeding Christ.” Jamie crossed himself in relief. “Finallyshe sees reason. Maybe there’s some hope for the woman, yet.”
Robert wasn’t nearly so thrilled by the news of their break up. “But, darling…”
Grace cut him off. “I don’t think we’re made for each other, Robert. In fact, I think I’ve been kidding myself for the past year. You see, I’ve just realized something very important.” She climbed into the car and started the ignition, leaning forward to glower at him out the passenger’s window. “I suck at being normal.”
Chapter Three
June 21, 1789- JMR is quite the handsomest man in town. He’s also charming, energetic in his love-making, and willing to spend his gold on pretty things. Such a shame he isn’t in some respectable trade or I’d convince him to marry me, regardless of what Mother and Father had to say.
But no respectable girl can have her good name linked to a pirate!
From the Journal of Miss Lucinda Wentworth
For the first time since he died, things were looking up.
Jamie smiled at Grace, hoping he appeared as nonthreatening as a specter couldpossiblyappear. The girl was a jumpy little thing. He didn’t want to scare her into ignoring him again. “Feeling better?”
“Well, I’m still seeing ghosts, so I’m certainly not doing great.” Grace sat across from him in an overstuffed floral arm chair, drinking wine straight from the bottle, and eating ice cream for dinner. (Low fat vanilla, of course. The girl truly needed to expand her horizons.) A patchwork mountain of pillows was piled around her. They matched the rest of her mismatched furnishings. “God, this is just the worst night of my life.” She muttered and drank some more wine. “Which isreallyfrigging saying something.”
“You’re well rid of such a man, lass.” Jamie detested her ex-boyfriend with a passion he’d once reserved for Red Coats. The bastard had tried to steal what was rightfully Jamie’s and had not even treated her well. He wouldn’t soon forget the sight of the man shaking Grace, his hand leavingangry red marks on her arm. Back in his day, Jamie would have run the wanker through with a sword. “That Robert is a waste…”
“Oh who cares about him?” She interrupted. “Jesus, Robert’s the least of my problems. I watchedGrey’s Anatomy. Seeing ghosts? It usually means a brain tumor.” Grace’s dark curls were drawn up in a messy topknot and a few more tendrils fell around her shoulders as she shook her head. “I can’t deal with a brain tumor. I don’t even have health insurance anymore.” She reached up to rub her forehead. “Darn it, I cried through that whole season.”
“You donea have a brain tumor.”
“That’s probablyjustwhat a brain tumor would say.” Grace flashed him an impatient glare. “Look, I need some time to think, alright? Why don’t you go warn someone the British are coming or something? Either that or just shut up for once.”
At least she was looking at him now. Jamie counted that as progress. “Of course.” He agreed. He would have agreed to whatever she asked, at this point. Getting the woman to like him was of paramount importance.
“Good. Because if you’re not a brain tumor, then you’re real. I think that might even be worse.”
“There was a time in my life when I’d take a pretty girl home and she’d likeeverythingI had to say.” He told her in his most charming tone.
Grace didn’t look charmed. “She must’ve been even drunker than I am to fall for your crap.” She muttered and ate a spoonful of her ordinary-flavored ice cream. “And you’restilltalking to me. Itoldyou, it freaks me out when you talk to me. At least wait until I finish the whole bottle.”
“I apologize. I’ll wait for you to become inebriated.”
“Good.” Grace nodded firmly and washed down her ice cream with some more wine. Then she hesitated. “I don’t normally approve of excessive drinking, you know.” She tacked on in a prissy tone. “Don’t think I do this kind of thing all the time. I’m a very moral person.”
