Lust, Loathing And A Little Lip Gloss. Kyra Davis

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СКАЧАТЬ in the same circles,” I said slowly as I pieced everything together. “Your current circles consist of a bunch of ghost-loving freaks. Really, Scott, isn’t it a little bizarre for a necrophobic to hang with people who are trying to raise the dead?”

      “First of all, they’re not freaks,” Scott said defensively. “I’m not even convinced that all of the members believe in ghosts even though they all say they do. They just like listening to ghost stories. I’ve been to over twenty meetings with Venus and they haven’t been able to channel a single disembodied spirit. Trust me, if they had, I wouldn’t attend no matter how much Venus insisted. And Sophie,” he paused to wave a hovering bee away from his face, “it is a deal breaker.”

      “But that’s ridiculous! Why is it so important to Kane that some stranger joins his precious society?”

      “I keep trying to tell you, Sophie, Kane doesn’t see you as a stranger. He thinks your discovery of his father connects you in some peculiar way and he thinks…okay, try not to laugh, but he thinks that if he’s going to successfully channel his parents’ spirits the people who found his father right after his death need to be part of the séance.”

      “Really?” Dena asked, her curiosity overcoming her mirth. “Is that some kind of Wiccan rule?”

      “I have no idea,” Scott grumbled. “What I do know is that I’m stuck going to these meetings for at least another year. But really, they’re not that bad,” he said switching back into salesman mode. “And Enrico Risso is a member so we usually get to sample some dish that he’s thinking about adding to his menu.”

      “Hold up.” Dena’s chair audibly scratched against the concrete floor as she scooted forward. “Are we talking about Enrico Risso, the executive chef at Sassi? The man who was just voted one of the nation’s twenty best chefs in Gourmet Magazine?”

      “The one and only.”

      Dena blinked and then turned to me. “I’m not saying you should join, but if you do you should invite me to one of the meetings. Enrico’s risotto is enough to make you cream your panties.”

      Scott shot Dena a bemused smile. “You really haven’t changed at all, have you?”

      “Before I agree to any of this I’m going to need to have a contractor come out and look at the pipes, foundation and whatnot,” I interjected. I really didn’t want to dwell on Dena’s panties remark.

      “Naturally,” Scott agreed. “You can have a contractor come out anytime. Kane’s already moved all his father’s things into storage so it’ll be easy to check out all the floors and walls.”

      “He’s already moved everything out?” I asked. “That was fast.”

      “Kane’s efficient. But before you call a contractor you should take another look at the place. Make sure you really want it.”

      Scott said the last words suggestively, implying that I might want more than just real estate from him. I didn’t. But I’ll admit I was pleased to know he still desired me. It put me in a position of power, and with Scott it was always important to keep the upper hand. “When can I look at it again?”

      Scott glanced at his watch. “What are you doing right now?”

      

      After saying my goodbyes to Dena I got in my car and followed Scott to Ashbury Heights. Well, follow isn’t really the right word because Scott got a significant early lead on me thanks to his Tango. It was the same electric vehicle George Clooney drove. Scott said he got it last Christmas—it was Venus’s version of a stocking stuffer. Apparently Venus’s parents owned and ran Organically Yours, the food product line that sold energy bars and whole grain cereals all over the country. That bit of information explained their entire relationship to me. Scott was a gold digger and Venus was his sugar-mommy. They were a perfect match.

      So by the time I got to the house Scott had already parked and was presumably inside. I pulled my car into the driveway and climbed the steps. My hand was shaking with excitement as I pushed on the front door that was already open a crack. The place no longer smelled of Pine-Sol. The floral couch and overstuffed armchairs were gone and the beautiful mahogany bookcases were empty. It took me a moment to adjust to the change. I hadn’t liked the furniture, but I didn’t realize how much it had detracted from the strength of the architecture. The vaulted ceilings felt higher now and the wide, dark wood staircase had a boldness of design that I hadn’t noticed before. In fact the whole house felt bolder…no, bold was the wrong word. Power. That was better. The house seemed to have a power all its own. Yet its power had a magnanimous quality. The ambiance of the room seemed to embrace me and despite what I had found upstairs only weeks earlier, the place made me feel safe. I almost believed that the house was going to take care of me—like a father.

      Suddenly I was struck with a sense of déjà vu. I had been here, not weeks before, but years before; before I had ever heard of Oscar or even Scott.

      But that was impossible. My mind had to be playing tricks on me. Yet the sense of déjà vu didn’t go away and oddly enough made me want the house more than ever. It was calling to me.

      And then I heard the footsteps of my father. He was walking through the dining room toward the living room. But that, too, was impossible. I turned my head in the direction of the sound.

      It definitely wasn’t my father. Scott was standing next to a guy with an army-camouflage T-shirt and brownish-red hair cut close to his scalp. He was wearing rubber-soled sneakers, which explained why I had only heard the one set of footsteps.

      “Sophie, this is Kane,” Scott said, patting the man on the back.

      I smiled and shook his hand. “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

      “And I didn’t know you were going to be here,” he said. “Seems fate wanted us to meet. More proof that this is all meant to be, don’t you think?”

      “Sure.” I struggled to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I was one of those people who firmly believed in coincidences.

      I started to pull my hand away, but Kane held on to it firmly. His expression had become serious and I found myself unable to break eye contact. “Do you feel anything?”

      “Umm…the palm of your hand?” I said, unsure if he was playing some kind of game with me.

      Something crossed Kane’s face. I couldn’t read the emotion, but I had a feeling it wasn’t a good one. But before I had a chance to come up with a better answer he released me and eased his mouth into a lazy grin. “Guess my parents aren’t around right now. But they’ll make an appearance soon. I’m sure of it.”

      “Right, well, if I see them I’ll be sure to let you know,” I assured him.

      “So there you have it,” Scott said with what seemed to be forced enthusiasm. “Sophie’s the person you should sell to. Not only is she a believer, but she’s willing to notify you if she makes contact.”

      What the hell was he talking about? But one look from Scott told me that if I wanted the house I’d be wise to play along—at least for a while. I swallowed and stepped around them into the formal dining room. “This really is a great property.” I flicked on the light switch and watched the chandelier illuminate.

      “You still want it?” Scott asked hopefully.

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