I take the opportunity to arrange the food attractively and take some shots, pleased by the elevated presentation of what could have been slightly boring foods. I’m also eager to eat it, because my raucous stomach is reminding me auditorily that the last sustenance it encountered was a handful of pretzels in my room long before my nap.
Greg and Ian are now on good terms, and are laughing and nodding before Greg takes his leave, throwing his bar towel over his shoulder.
“Spooky,” I say as I scoop up a sausage dripping with fondue. “What do you make of all this?”
“I’m excited to meet this bride in my room,” he tells me simply, eyeing the sausage with interest as it passes my lips.
“I bet that phrase has never ever been uttered before in this circumstance,” I laugh.
“Would you like to join me?” he asks me daringly, his onyx eyes sparkling.
“In your room to meet a dead bride?” I say, cocking my head. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter 2
Kat
“Excellent,” he says, clasping his hands together. “Let’s finish this carb bonanza and get out of here.”
We spend another hour having drinks and enjoying the bounty of food, and we talk at length about our business and find that despite our very different subject matters, we have very much in common. It’s a very specific way of life, where work and personal life blur frequently and you are almost always working, but when it’s on your terms it doesn’t necessarily feel that way. You make your money doing what you love. For me it’s travel and for Ian it’s apparently silverware stealing ghosts.
At the end of our meal, everything is gratis for both of us, but Ian kindly leaves the large tip for Greg, who has been extremely attentive. I get up from the booth and smooth my dress, and notice Ian watching me with a small smile on his face. I grin back as he picks up my purse and holds it out to me. He carries my bulky camera for me as we wander to the elevators.
Though I had imbibed in multiple drinks, the food had counteracted it and I find myself content with a slight buzz. It isn’t until we are in the elevator next to one another that my stomach pleasantly jumps at the closeness of his body. We stand side by side, and I can feel the warmth pulsating off his strong arm, that brushes mine casually. I stare straight ahead into the copper colored door, where his reflection greets my eyes. I swallow hard as I watch him turn his head and take me in, head to toe. His eyes finally resting on my profile.
The doors open and he walks out first, holding his hand out, which I grab and let him lead me out of the elevator and down the hall. We stop in front of his door, and when it swings open I can see that the most haunted room does not translate to the nicest room. The furnishings are every bit as lovely as mine, but the room is small, with one king size bed and a table for two. A set of mahogany drawers held what had to be his ghost hunting equipment.
The room definitely feels eerie and for the first time tonight my goosebumps don’t originate with Ian. The air in the room feels heavy, as though it were weighed down with palpable tragedy.
I watch as he walks about the room setting up a camera and laser grid in front of the imposing looking armoire. “This will help catch any amount of spontaneous movement.”
I kick off my shoes and sit on the pristine bed. Clearly he doesn’t share the penchant for chaos in his rooms that I do, and I thank the heavens that he hadn’t come back to my room, despite how much more luxurious it was. I couldn’t even see his luggage and realized that he must be one of those maniacs who actually unpacks, hangs up his clothes and then stows his bags in the closet at a hotel. Nary a snack or sock littered the floor.
He hands me a bulky, handheld black instrument that looks like a speed radar and I look at him questiongly. “But I wanted a pony.”
“It’s a thermal cam. It will help you see any spikes or plunges in temperature,” he explains with a laugh before adding, “Or spectral ponies.”
I nod and click it on and start to pan the room with it. I swallow hard as the area with the armoire. No haunted horse, but a huge cold spot. He looks over my shoulder and nods. “It’s maintained a low temperature since I arrived. She’s very active.”
“Do you mind if I turn off the lights?” he asks as he comes to a stop at the switch.
“Not at all,” I tell him honestly, though my belly is filled with butterflies.
He flips the switch and the room plunges into darkness, save for the curtain of green dots of the laser. I can barely see him as he sets a camera to record the foreboding area. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he assures me.
Damn. I guess he really is more interested in the spork ghost than sporking ME.
He sits cross legged on the bed, and I follow suit, sitting across from him, studying his shadow cast face in the dark, the lights from the equipment the only illumination. I cross my legs as best as I can in my dress and don’t worry about the view up the skirt, as the shadows provide ample modesty and I’m wearing cute underwear for once anyhow, and it even matches my bra. Winning.
“I’m going to take an EVP,”
