Liv pressed her nose to her sweatshirt. It smelled like stale cigarettes and the faintest hint of detergent. "Like us."
"Basically. But it’ll be okay."
Glen is going to be so pissed.
"Okay." She nodded a little. Liv was going to have to trust that Kayla knew what was acceptable within her own circles. Especially since she herself had spent the last two years in the Peace Corps in Africa, wearing jeans, t-shirts, and boots nearly everyday. "If you say so." But the slight hesitation in her voice gave away her lingering doubt.
Kayla smiled reassuringly and without hesitation bent down and kissed Liv gently on the mouth. She turned her head slightly and pressed her cheek against Liv’s. "You’ve already made a permanently good impression on me, Liv. I have one-hundred percent faith in you," she pulled back and Liv caught sight of twinkling eyes "with or without clothing. So don’t worry so much."
Liv’s cheeks colored slightly and her heart beat a little faster at the unexpectedly romantic gesture. For a moment she was tongue-tied, and she simply looked up at Kayla, her emotions showing clearly on her face.
Ooo, I did something right.
"C’mon." Kayla grinned, obscenely pleased by Liv’s reaction and glad that she hadn’t bothered to think about what she was doing before she did it.
Or else I probably would have been too chicken-shit to do it at all.
Kayla pulled open the massive wooden door and gave a handsome young man dressed in a tuxedo jacket, bow tie, and kilt, her name. The man smiled at Kayla, then his brows drew together when he realized Liv was with her. He looked down at the clipboard he was carrying.
Liv began to fidget as she watched the host and Kayla engage in a quiet discussion about something. After a moment, the man smiled and motioned Liv to join them. They were led through a small hallway to a my courtyard that was hidden from the street. A long, steep, stone staircase later and they were in a large, well-lit room called The Secret Garden.
"Oh, wow," Liv mumbled to Kayla as they followed the host. "I thought you said this job would require roughing it. Please, make me rough it some more. Next you’ll be forcing champagne and massages on me, you brute."
Kayla laughed and shook her head, shifting a shock of dark hair over her shoulder. The room was magnificent, looking like an urn-filled terrace. Flowers were everywhere, their heady scent perfuming the air and mingling with the aroma of fresh-baked bread. The ceiling was painted with images from the tarot and included a happy, very chubby cherub playing the bagpipes. "Trust me, this has never happened before. The last business meeting I had was held in a Kentucky Fried Chicken in Mexico City."
They were seated in a corner of the room and given a wine list to examine while they waited for the rest of their party. Kayla looked at the list and frowned. She’d never acquired a taste for the drink. "What do you know about wine, Liv?"
Liv shrugged lightly, relieved that no one seemed to care what they were wearing and pleased that she had a moment alone with Kayla before their meeting began. "One glass makes me chatty, two glasses make me chatty
and
horny, and after three glasses you’ll have to carry me out." She smiled charmingly, the gesture wrinkling her nose. "Did you have something in mind?"
"Ale." Kayla grinned and made a mental note to pick up a bottle of whatever wine Liv liked on their way to the B&B after the meeting. Her attention suddenly drifted from Liv’s face towards the stairs and her grin broadened, showing off even white teeth. Her hand shot up and she gave a wave. "There she is."
Liv turned around to see a very striking woman animatedly speaking with a rail-thin man, who was nearly bald, except for a longish chunk of silver hair that was combed over the top of his head in a ridiculous attempt to hide its shiny surface. He walked with a cane.
When Kayla looked at her business associate, Glen, her eyes conveyed a warmth that Liv had never seen directed towards anyone but her, or perhaps Marcy, Kayla’s younger sister. She felt a pang of jealousy that she knew was irrational.
Not nice,
she chided herself.
You’ve just never seen her with a friend before.
The dark-haired woman stood up to greet their tablemates. She towered over both of them. "It’s been a while, Glen."
"Hello, Kayla." Glen Fuguchi was at least two inches shy of Liv’s five-and-a-half feet. Her hair was long and a glossy black, pulled back in a gold clasp that rested at the base of her neck. Her skin was as flawless as fine porcelain.
Glen raised an inquiring eyebrow at Liv but quickly dismissed her and focused on Kayla, who she pulled into a quick hug. "What in the hell are you wearing?" she whispered harshly into the ear next to her lips. Kayla’s body shook with silent chuckles. "Don’t you laugh. You’re here to make a good impression." Backing away, she placed a kiss on Kayla’s cheek and brightly said, "It’s been too long, Kayla." Her voice held the barest hint of a Japanese accent.
"It has," Kayla said earnestly, oblivious to Glen’s appreciative gaze raking down her body. Baggy sweatshirt or no, Kayla was a beautiful woman.
The hair on the back of Liv’s neck stood on end
. You are… okay,
were
a helluva lot more than business associates.
She fought the urge to wrap her arm around Kayla’s waist and growl, ‘Mine’. Grudgingly, however, she admitted that that was probably not a very mature response. Maybe later she could just trip her on the way out instead.
God, Kayla, Glen looks twelve friggin’ years old! Shouldn’t she be in homeroom right now?
"Kayla Redding, this is Mr. Robert Keith, the client I spoke with you about."
"Mr. Keith," Kayla acknowledged, reaching out and shaking his hand firmly.
The man smiled engagingly as he pumped her hand. His hair shook along with his body and he reached up and lifted his hair back into place. "I can’t tell you how pleased I am to meet you. I wanted the best," he puffed up his narrow chest a little, "and here you are, just as Ms. Fuguchi promised."
He looked at Liv who was now on her feet alongside Kayla and waiting patiently. "And you are?"
Kayla mentally kicked herself for her lack of manners.
No wonder I pay Glen to take care of this part of the business.
"This is my new business partner, Olivia Hazelwood. She’s a linguist from Virginia and someone who is going to be an invaluable asset to this and all our future projects."
Liv felt a jolt of happiness at Kayla’s words. It was
almost
enough to make Liv forgive Kayla for not telling her she and Glen had been involved romantically.
Glen’s dark eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Partner?" she said quietly, hoping she didn’t sound as surprised as she felt.
She doesn’t know?
Liv slowly turned to Kayla and glared.
You are so dead, Ghostbuster.
Kayla swallowed. "She sure is." The tall woman took Liv’s hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze.
Fuck.
Liv squeezed back. Hard.
Double fuck.
Glen’s expression went a little cold. "How nice for you. Shall we sit?" She gestured towards their seats.
Robert Keith immediately slumped into his chair with a sigh of relief. He propped his cane against the wall behind him.
Glen and Kayla remained standing. Their faces were impassive but Liv could see by the rigid set of her lover’s shoulders that something wordless was passing between her and Glen.
Another telepath perhaps?
she wondered silently, a little surprised by how quickly she was starting to accept certain things that only days before she would have declared impossible.
Kayla’s research, began with the study of her own family’s highly evolved set of paranormal gifts. And although the Reddings’ phenomenal paranormal attributes had been diluted over the centuries, she herself had considerable telepathic abilities.
It was wholly by accident that the women had discovered that Liv too had heightened telepathic skills. Though Liv hadn’t even known that about herself. And for whatever reason, each woman brought out these talents in the other. A small part of Liv wondered how much that had to do with the bone-deep, almost innate, attraction they had for each other. She regarded Kayla carefully; the sculpted planes of her face, the sensuous curve of red lips, the penetrating intelligence that shone so clearly in those pale blue eyes.
No,
she thought a little dreamily.
She would have had my heart in any case.
But I’m still going to kill her.
A long moment passed while Mr. Keith busied himself with the wine list and menu, then Kayla and Glen took their seats and the Scotsman launched into a detailed diatribe. He ended by saying, "I awoke from a sound sleep my
wi’
chills racin’ through my body and saw blood dripping down the bedroom wall in front of me."
Their first course was nearly over when Kayla quietly put down her fork, looked Mr. Keith in the eye, and asked, "Are you on any medication?"
"Kayla!" Glen cried. "She’s joking, Mr. Keith. Truly." Glen’s voice was sharp. "Explain that you’re just teasing, Kayla." She plastered on a smile as she patted Robert’s bony hand. "Americans have such odd senses of humor, don’t you think? Of course we believe you. Why don’t you go over a few more of the specifics?"
Liv went a little pale at the thought of Mr. Keith going into more detail about what had supposedly happened in his house. She subtly pushed away her plate of sweet potato and apple gallette and reached for her water.
Kayla tossed her napkin onto the table. "Glen."
"What happened is clearly not unheard of," Glen said calmly. Her eyes flashed another warning to Kayla while her voice remained as smooth as silk.
"I know it’s hard to believe, Ms. Redding," Robert broke in, willing to do whatever it took to convince her. He paused for a moment while their dishes were cleared and an enormous plate of steak tartare and fried quail’s eggs was placed in front of him.
Liv smiled her thanks at the waiter who set down her seafood pie and Kayla’s wild mushroom tart.
Glen appeared content to acquire her calories in the form of a very expensive bottle of wine courtesy of their new client.
Liv’s eyes narrowed.
Maybe she’s a vampire. They don’t eat at all.
When the wait staff retreated, Mr. Keith leaned towards Kayla and with a deadly serious expression said, "I know what I saw. And now, thanks to my blabbermouth cook, so do the papers. It wasn’t a delusion," he said, sounding a little insulted. "I’m sure it was all a hoax." He waved his hand dismissively. "And I don’t want Edinburgh thinking I’m prone to hallucinations, now do I?" He jutted his jaw defiantly, as if he had just made everything clear and it was up to Kayla to draw her own conclusions.
Which were that Mr. Keith was probably drunk at the time.
"Mr. Keith is a very respected member of the community and City Council," Glen added for Kayla’s benefit. Throughout lunch she had managed to ignore Liv’s presence almost entirely. Though, to her annoyance, Mr. Keith seemed intent on addressing both Liv and Kayla when he spoke. "His reputation is above reproach and he’s hired us to confirm that there is nothing haunted about his house."
"This is a matter for the police, Glen, not me. If someone was trying to frighten you—"
Robert shook his head emphatically. "Absolutely not. I intend to open my home as an inn next month. The damage is already done. My housekeeper handed in her notice the same morning she walked into my bedroom and saw me… well, in my state of surprise and fright." He looked a little shamefaced, deciding they didn’t need to know about his soiled sheets. "When I told her what I’d seen, she quit on the spot. She wouldn’t even collect her parting wages in person. Her daughter, the uppity thing, said for me to post them to her!"
"An article claiming Mr. Keith’s house was possessed by an evil, potentially deadly spirit appeared in the next day’s papers, quoting the cook," Glen said conversationally, refilling her glass. "I’ve already interviewed her and her daughter. Besides Mr. Keith, they were the only other people who lived in the house. They don’t have anything to add that we can’t get straight from the source."
"That’s right," Mr. Keith huffed, before taking another bite. "And that’s why I hired you and Ms. Fuguchi. I’ve done my research and know you are both very well respected within the scientific community. I specifically requested you over several other paranormal researchers that Ms. Fuguchi works with. People will believe what you say."
And you’re young and pretty and would surely make the papers and local news bulletins.
Kayla’s brow furrowed as Mr. Keith’s thoughts began roughly taking shape in her head. She didn’t have a word for word understanding of his mental musings, but she caught snippets and impressions and a few odd words, processing them all in the blink of an eye. Kayla all but sneered at her new employer.
News bulletins? Like hell.
And why was Glen interviewing the residents of Mr. Keith’s home? She didn’t work in the field. Ever.
"So you want us to make sure that everyone knows there’s nothing spooky or paranormal about your house that would frighten away guests?" Liv asked Mr. Keith, unable to sit quietly by for another second.
"Hardly," he snorted and used bony fingers to smooth down his wool, regimental necktie. "Specters and spooks are a big part of Edinburgh’s history and continued economic success, Ms. Hazelwood. A few of those never hurt any inn’s business. And my home has been host to its share of minor hauntings over the years. As is the case with nearly any self-respecting, authentic structure in Old Town." He leaned back in his chair and took a healthy bite of his lunch.