While she called Pizza Hut and placed an order for delivery, he went to the bathroom. In there, he turned on the pager that Mika had given him.
He wondered why he was hiding in the bathroom with the pager, where Carmen would not see him. Wondered why he hadn’t mentioned Mika to Carmen at all. His behavior was that of a guy who was cheating on his woman, which was ridiculous. They weren’t romantically involved.
Still, he’d rather not tell Carmen about her.
Throughout the day, Mika had sent him eleven messages. BEEN THINKING ABOUT YOU; HEY, DARLING; CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU TONIGHT; and so on.
He had finally responded about an hour ago with, “HAVING VERY BAD DAY, CAN’T COME FOR DINNER TONIGHT. SORRY, WILL SET ANOTHER DATE.” He simply couldn’t deal with Mika, and the strangeness that had invaded his house, simultaneously. Until he found out what was going on at his home, he’d be unable to focus on anything else. Mika would have to wait until later.
But as he scanned the list of messages that Mika had sent, he saw that she hadn’t responded to his date cancellation. She hadn’t called his cell phone, either.
She probably was pissed at him. Pissed that he wasn’t coming to see her, pissed that he wasn’t within arms’ reach so that she could seduce him into changing his mind. Well, she would get over it.
Back in the kitchen, he took a seat at the table. Carmen poured herself a tall glass of iced tea.
His gaze wandered over her. She’d changed from the conservative navy-blue business suit she wore to her accounting job into casual wear: red shorts, a white tank top, and flip-flops. She’d washed off her makeup, too.
But it didn’t matter what she wore: she was fine. He found himself comparing her to Mika. Mika was perfection personified, like a woman straight out of an exotic fantasy. Carmen was beautiful in a girl-next-door way.
And Carmen, though she could be a flirt, didn’t need to use sex to get what she wanted. You wanted to please her because she was such a sweetheart.
He shook his head. Why was he comparing the two of them? He knew Mika as a lover, and Carmen as a friend. He shouldn’t be doing this.
Carmen noticed his attention. “What’re you looking at?”
“Uh, can I have some tea, too?”
“Sure. But you might want to finish off that water first, since ogling me’s got you all hot and bothered.”
Heat flushed his face. He drank the rest of his water.
She laughed. “I was only joking. Jeez, you act like a guilty man. Should I change clothes? Throw on something grungy?”
“No, you’re fine.”
“Am I? That’s so sweet for you to say that, Drew.”
“You know what I meant.” But he blushed again. She had an uncanny knack for embarrassing him.
She came to the table with two glasses of tea and slid into the seat next to him.
“Back to business,” she said. “Take out your notebook, honey. Time to talk about this ghost of yours.”
“Okay,” Carmen said, “as far as we know, we’re assuming that the haunting began Monday, at the cookout. With the water running in the bathtub.”
“Right.” He scribbled, “water running in tub” on a spiral notepad.
“Next, the ghost knocked over some wineglasses, left the cabinet door open,” she said.
Nodding, he wrote her words down.
“Then it turned on the PlayStation, popped in a game, had the volume cranked up,” she said.
He wrote, “video game incident, volume high.”
“Lastly, it left not one, but two messages on your computer. Said ‘hello, Andrew’ and ‘don’t be scared.’ Picked up the food you’d spilled on the floor, too, right in front of your eyes.”
“Yeah.” The memory sent a shiver down his back.
She snapped her fingers and grinned. “My dear Watson, I think I’ve got it.”
“What is it?”
“This ghost has been trying to get your attention. But you weren’t picking up the hints, so it came right out and did something bold today. Something that you couldn’t write off to a bad memory or coincidence.”
“It’s definitely got my attention now. But why? What does it want?”
“Don’t know. But I bet I know how you can find out.”
“How?”
“You’ve got to ask it, Drew. Ghosts are usually trying to communicate stuff to us, warn us about things, or comfort us, like my granddaddy did for me. You’ve got to start a dialogue with this spirit. Find out who it is, what it wants, and why.”
He put down the pen. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. I don’t wanna
talk
to this ghost. I want it to get the hell outta my house.”
“Okay.” She shrugged. “Then call Ghostbusters.”
“Very funny.”
“I don’t know what else to tell you. I think you need to talk to it. I don’t think it plans to hurt you. Why else would it say, ‘don’t be scared’?”
“But, Carmen . . .” He dragged his hand down his face. She didn’t understand how badly the experience had rattled him. His life had been invaded by the supernatural. Things like this simply did not happen to him. He was a rational guy, with an orderly life. And here she was, telling him to chat with a ghost? It was crazy.
She touched his hand. “You don’t want to go home, do you?”
“Not tonight. I want to get some distance, sort this out some more. I wouldn’t sleep for a minute knowing that there’s a presence or whatever in my house.”
“You can spend the night here,” she said. She added: “In the guest room.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“But later, I want you to follow my advice. Talk to it. We can sit up here all night spinning theories, better to get some direct answers.”
“I agree, and I’ll do that,” he said. “Later.”
She smiled, squeezed his hand.
He smiled at her, too.
He didn’t want her to take her hand away from his.
The doorbell chimed.
“That should be the pizza,” she said. “My, that was quick.” She rose and walked out of the kitchen.
He watched her leave. Thoughts about her that went far beyond the boundaries of their platonic friendship flitted through his brain.
Let it go, man. She’s just a friend. Leave it at that.
Sighing, he returned his attention to the notepad. He wrote, “next step: talk to the ghost,” and underlined the words.
Talk to the ghost. Had he entered the twilight zone or what?
“Andrew, can you come here, please?” Carmen said from the doorway.
Mulling over what he could possibly discuss with a ghostly visitor, he got up, entered the hallway.
He stopped.
Holding a red umbrella and wearing a sugar-sweet smile, Mika waited at the front door.
Chapter 14
W
hen Andrew saw Mika waiting at the door, a swarm of questions buzzed through his mind in a matter of a few seconds.
How did Mika know he was there? Had she followed him? What did she want? Was she going to think he was sleeping with Carmen and cause some drama? What was Carmen going to think of this?
And again: how did she know he was here?
He’d lost his ability to speak. A lump as large as a golf ball had lodged in his throat.
“Andrew, you have a guest,” Carmen said. She addressed him as Andrew only when she was upset with him.
Mika’s saccharine smile never wavered. Twirling the umbrella, she said, “Goodness, I need to get out of this cold rain,” and stepped inside.
Closing the door, Carmen shot her a look of thinly concealed disgust.
Mika acted as if she didn’t notice. She was dressed for a night on the town: black miniskirt, red silk blouse, pumps, platinum jewelry. Her long, wavy hair was freshly styled; her jasmine perfume teased his nostrils.
She gave him a megawatt smile.
At last, he found his voice. “Mika, what are you doing here?”
Mika came forward and grasped his hand. “Oh, darling, don’t you remember that we had dinner plans for this evening? We discussed it this morning—after you left my suite.”
He blinked. Was she serious?
“I sent you a message on the pager,” he said. “I won’t be able to make it for dinner. I’ve had a really crazy day and—”
“Which is why you need to come spend the night with me again, baby,” Mika said. She stroked his arm. “I’ll make it all better.”
“I don’t need to see any more of this,” Carmen said. Glaring at Andrew, she turned to walk away.
“Carmen—” Andrew said.
Mika’s face brightened. “Oh, so this is Carmen? Andrew has told me so many great things about you.”
“Has he?” Carmen asked. “Funny, he hasn’t told me about you.”
“He hasn’t?” Mika said. “That’s not too shocking, I suppose. We met only yesterday. My name is Mika.” She extended her hand.
Carmen shook her hand quickly. She rushed away, saying, “I’ll let you two chat. You must have so much to discuss since you’ve already spent the night together.” She didn’t even look at Andrew.
Damn. He was in trouble now.
Mika watched Carmen leave, and pivoted to face Andrew. Her smile fell away.
“What are you doing over here?” she asked.
“I need to be asking you that question. Did you follow me here?”
“I have my ways, especially where my man is concerned.”
My man? Had he heard her correctly?
He cleared his throat. “Listen, Mika, it’s not like that between us. I’m not your man. I’ve known you for one day.”
“How can you say that, Andrew? We had such a fabulous time together, packed months of passion into a few hours.”
“But it was only one day! That doesn’t give you the right to follow me around.”
“Why are you being so mean to me, baby?” Her eyes glimmered wetly. “I only wanted to see you. After last night, I thought that you cared about me.”
He wiped his hand down his sweaty face. He wasn’t good at dealing with emotional conflict. It was messy, unpredictable, stressful. His natural inclination was to avoid drama and hope that the problem faded away, took care of itself. But he had the unsettling feeling that Mika wasn’t an issue that was going to be so easily resolved.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” Mika said. Her gaze sharpened like a knife. “That bitch, Carmen. You’re in love with her.”
“First of all, she’s not a bitch. Don’t disrespect her like that. And I told you, she’s only a friend.”
Mika laughed hollowly. “Only a friend? Walking around in high-cut shorts and a tank top that shows off her titties? Are you going to make love to her tonight, Andrew, or are you just going to fuck her, like I guess you did to me?”
He paused. Stared at her.
Mika’s eyebrow twitched, as if currents of dangerous energy had overloaded her nerves. At that moment, she seemed capable of anything, and he was afraid of what she might do.
He looked at her tiny black purse, wondered if she had concealed a gun or a knife in there.
He backed up a couple of steps.
“You promised me that I’ve no competition.” She stepped closer.
“I was telling the truth. We’re only friends.”
“You better not be lying to me, Andrew. I don’t like liars.”
She was about five-feet-seven, several inches shorter than he was, and he outweighed her by probably fifty pounds. Physically, she was no match for him. But the steel glint in her gaze promised a fight.
“Mika, I’m not lying. Really. We’re only friends.”
Her face softened. “Then come with me tonight, darling.”
“I can’t, not tonight. We’ll talk about this later. Okay?”
“I want you tonight.” She draped her hands around his neck, stroked the back of his head.
The memory of last night’s passion sparked an awakening in his groin. As if they had a mind of their own, his hands moved to her hips.
She smiled, knowingly. “You want me, too. Your little friend has perked up.”
He wanted to curse. His body had betrayed him again.
“I’ve got what he wants,” she said. She moved her hand to his crotch and massaged his erection, which, in spite of himself, was growing more rigid by the second.
“Mika—” he started.
“Come with me tonight, baby,” she said. “Please don’t make me beg.”
“Listen, Mika, I can’t.”
She lowered to her knees. Tugged his belt buckle.
He backed away.
“Not here,” he said. “Not in my friend’s house.”
“Afraid she’ll get jealous? She’s in love with you. It’s all in her eyes.”