Page 122 of A Heart So Haunted
He made careful work of not touching the couch. Instead, he peeled his shirt from his body. “Well. If you’re leaving, can I borrow your shower?”
“Sure.”
“As long as there’s no hot blond guy hiding in there somewhere.” Sayer tilted his head with a heavy squint.
“Hadrian is not hiding in the shower.”
“Mm. A ghost, then?”
“No.” If only he knew.
“Says the girl that told Emma about a book nook turning on and off by itself.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ididn’t think she’d actually meet with me.
Hemlock had one Italian bistro that sat nestled between an upholstery store and a nail salon. I missed the little red, white, and green sign the first time; after a second trip around the block, I managed to snag a parking spot.
I hated having to find people in restaurants. It reminded me of Whack-A-Mole as a kid—I’d stand like a pillar in the middle of a rushing river, waiting for the right head to pop up, all while the rest of the patrons watched with curiosity as to who I was looking for.
“How many?” the hostess greeted me. She chewed her gum with unbridled aggression.
“Two. I’m looking for an Irene? She might be here already?” I held onto my bag strap. The bistro was brighter than I’d expected; the far wall was blanketed in faux dangling ivy. A neon pink sign hung in the middle that said,Italy wishes you were here.
“I don’t know any Irenes,” the girl said. She gathered two menus. Then rolled her eyes and muttered, “Follow me.”
She sat me in a corner booth, big enough for a family of eight, right next to the ivy wall. As soon as she left, I touched it. Definitely fake.
Irene bounced from another booth toward me, something tucked under her armpit. “I can’t believe she put you at a different table,” she muttered as she plopped into the seat across from me. She shot a look to where the hostess had disappeared. “Can’t find good help these days.”
I forced a smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“You’re fine, you’re fine,” she said. She gave a small headshake, forehead creased. “I’m so glad you texted me, though. I wanted to know how your issue was going.” She said the wordissuein a whisper, like she didn’t want anyone to overhear.
“Oh, it’s going.” I rubbed my hands on my thighs. My answer wasn’t enough: She seemed to lean in a bit, her eyes attached to my hands, how I sat, my expression. Too observant.
So I said the only thing I could think of. And it was honest.
“Good, actually. Things have calmed down. I think it’s stopped, at least for now.”
Her eyes brightened. “That’s good! What did you do? Or did it just—”
“I think it was a culmination of things, like you’d mentioned. Briefly. Bad things brought through the house, attached to items, and I found some of them, I think. Got rid of them.” I forced a smile, willed the truth to my eyes. Because when I’d thought about it, Sayer had been the one to go through the attic, and Meredith said everything had sold. So everything likelywasgone. And the teeth—out of sight, out of mind.
“That’s great, I’m so glad. I felt horrible for not getting you those things sooner. And at least you didn’t open the door, so whatever that’s for, it can just be left.”
“Exactly.” Little did she know.
An awkward bubble lifted between us. In the back, voices and clatters from the kitchen echoed around the otherwise empty dining area. Thankfully, a young man with braces and slicked back hair appeared out of thin air a moment later.
Irene ordered garlic bread. As soon as he walked away, she unfolded her menu. “To share, if you want.”
I nodded.
She nodded.
Then we both chuckled.
