Spirits, Stilettos, and a Silver Bustier Read online

  I slipped in through the door that connected to the downstairs hallway, pulling the door closed behind me. The place was pitch-black and silent. No music, no customers, no sound from the steamers. I couldn’t even hear the partygoers outside on Bourbon Street. Not in the kitchen anyway. I flipped the light switch on and headed to the double oven I’d recently had installed. In the past, we’d had pastries delivered from a local bakery, but I’d always loved baking and was thrilled to finally have the equipment to make my own.

  Tonight I was going to prep one of Jade’s favorites so they’d be ready to go when she arrived to work in the morning. Chocolate chip cream cheese cupcakes. They were chocolate cupcakes with a cream cheese chocolate chip filling. To. Die. For. We’d be on a serious sugar high all morning, but it would be worth it to see her smile when she realized what I was up to.

  I’d just dipped the electric beaters into the chocolate batter and turned the mixer on when “Love Shack” by the B-52s came blaring over the sound system. I jumped and batter splattered all over me and the counter from the rotating beaters. “Son of a crapster!”

  My heart pounded against my ribs as I tried to calm myself from the adrenaline seizing my body. I doubted anyone with plans for nefarious activity would choose the B-52s, but one never knew. Faint laughter sounded as the volume lowered to bearable levels.

  “Who’s here?” I wiped my sweaty palms on my apron and glanced around, catching the faint outline of a spirit forming right before my eyes.

  “That’s quite the mess you’ve made there, Pyper,” Ida May, a ghost who’d recently started showing up in the café at random times, sang as she twirled around the kitchen. She wore a lacy sleeveless nightgown that stopped a few inches above her black thigh-high stockings. High-heeled black Mary Jane-style shoes completed her look. She’d died sometime in the 1920s and had been one of the ladies of Storyville—the red-light district of New Orleans that had been legal until the government shut it down in 1917.

  “You could’ve warned me.” I shut the mixer off and grabbed a towel to wipe the counter down.

  “It’s so much more fun to surprise you.” She leaned over my shoulder, eyeing the cupcake batter. “I’d die for a taste of that right now.”

  I rolled my eyes. Ida May Silks had been dead for more than eighty years and still hadn’t gotten over the fact she could no longer have sweets. Or attractive men. Usually she only showed up when a particularly handsome one entered the café. “What brings you here this evening, Ida?”

  “You and that yummy man of yours.” She tried to stick her finger in the bowl but scowled when she wasn’t able to scoop up any batter. “Damn. I really wanted a taste.”

  Even though she always failed, she never stopped trying to sample whatever pastry we had to offer. Had to give her credit for that. “What man, Ida May?”

  Laughing, she floated through the swinging door that led into the main shop. I pushed the door open and poked my head out. She was gone. I shook my head and let the door close.

  As I finished mixing the cupcake batter, I wondered if Ida May was referring to my best friend Kane. He was the only man in my life at the moment, and according to Jade, he was next door at Wicked, in his office. If he knew I was here working, he’d likely stop in. But I hadn’t talked to him. Unless Jade sent him, he likely wouldn’t even know I was here.

  And sure enough, an hour later as I was finishing prepping the cupcake pans, the back door swung open. Kane strolled in, holding a file in one hand and two beers in the other.

  “Hey, you.” I shut the door on the oversized fridge and took the bottle of Turbodog he handed me. “How’d you know I was in here?”

  He leaned against the far counter, his left foot crossed over his ankle. “Jade, of course.”

  “Of course.” I gave him a wry smile. “Before you ask, no I don’t want to talk about it and I’m fine. Really.”

  He studied me, his chocolate eyes seeing past the thin façade I used to keep everyone else out. “You’re sure? You don’t need a hug?”

  I shook my head, a genuine smile claiming my lips. “Maybe later.”

  “Hard alcohol?”

  “This will do.” I held up the beer. “Now, did you come over for anything else other than to make sure I wasn’t wallowing in a pool of tears?”

  “Actually, yes. I just finished up some paperwork. Can you look it over for me?” His eyes crinkled with humor and he wore a self-satisfied smile.

  I stared at him with suspicion. “What’s going on?”

  “Just read this.” He handed me the file.

  “Fine.” I hopped up on the freshly cleaned counter. “Did you finally rent out the apartments next door?” There were three apartments above Wicked, and he’d been trying to find tenants to occupy them for months now, but the fact that one had been haunted and another had been the site of a recent possession had put most renters off. The only ones willing to rent them hadn’t passed the background checks.

  “Not yet. But I’m considering turning them into short-term rentals for private parties anyway.”

  “That sounds like a solid plan.” Considering we were on Bourbon Street, I was surprised he hadn’t decided to do that already. I took a swig of the ice-cold beer and flipped the file open. Inside were pictures of my café, one of Jade and me behind the counter with our arms draped over one another’s shoulders, and happy customers sitting in the overstuffed chairs by the window. Underneath was an article written by Kane that highlighted my business and my background.

  “It’s for a special New Orleans edition of Favorite Haunts Magazine. They wanted great eateries that had ghost sightings. I submitted and your café was picked. What do you think?”

  I scanned the article, noting Kane had written a bit about my humble beginnings and how I’d virtually built the business myself while also pursuing my body painting by offering my services to virtually every Mardi Gras krewe in New Orleans. It made me sound almost superhuman, but also very interesting. Tears filled my eyes that he’d done this for me, and I choked back the sob clogging my throat.

  “Kane…” I forced out a laugh through my tears.

  Smiling a crooked grin, he pulled me into a bear hug. “They said they want to come take professional pictures of the shop and interview you a bit for the final article. They want to come next week sometime.”

  “I can’t believe you did this,” I said into his shoulder.

  “Jade’s the one who read about the call in the magazine, so really you have her to thank.”

  I pulled back and gazed up at him. “I will thank her, but it looks to me as if you wrote this. She doesn’t know about my childhood or all the details of how we started our businesses. This has you all over it.”

  He shrugged, a blush coloring his cheeks.

  “You’re such a good guy.” I pushed up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. This is amazing.”

  “Okay. That’s enough. I have to get back to work. Just needed to make sure you were really okay.” He glanced at the file. “And that you approved of the article. Let me know if there’s anything you want me to leave out, all right?”

  I nodded. “I’ll read it over carefully tonight and get back to you.”

  “Good. The editor is supposed to call you sometime tomorrow to schedule the shoot. She’ll call the café line.”

  “Got it.”

  He winked and headed to the back door, but just as he pulled it opened, he jumped and let out a gasp, clasping his hand over his butt cheek. “What the hell?”

  Ida May had reappeared and was standing right behind him, practically drooling.

  I laughed. “The resident ghost just copped a feel.”

  Kane scowled. “Dammit, Ida May. My wife isn’t going to be very happy.”

  Ida May stuck her tongue out at Kane even though he couldn’t see her and then disappeared.

 
“She’s gone.” I walked over to Kane and held the door open.

  His scowl deepened. “I think she bruised my ass.”

  “It’s amazing how she never manages to sample the pastries or desserts she covets every day, but when a sexy man is around, she seems to have no problem causing trouble.”

  “You just called me sexy,” Kane said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Jeez. Don’t ever say that again.”

  I chuckled and pushed him out the door. “Shut up, you ugly turd. I was just trying to make you feel good about yourself.”

  “That’s better.” He grinned and strode back to his office while I locked up.

  With the file tucked under my arm, I climbed the stairs to my apartment. The light was out in the hall and I made a mental note to change it the next day. It was eerie being there in the dark by myself. And I didn’t have any neighbors to call on should anything go down. Not that I’d ever felt unsafe. I just didn’t like how dark it was. Not after finding Ruby. My bravado had definitely left the building.

  My apartment took up the entire second floor. It was actually the nicest place I’d ever lived. And at one point, in the early days, Kane had been my roommate. That was before his mamaw had passed and had left him her house a few blocks away.

  I hurriedly unlocked the door, ready to be curled up on my mocha-colored couch. The apartment was just as dark as the hall. I flipped the switch, flooding the place with light as I kicked my shoes off. But the moment I glanced up, I stilled as a shock of pleasure wound through me.

  Julius. He was here. Sitting in my armchair. I moved forward, helpless to resist the draw I always felt around him. My chest constricted as I held my breath, terrified he’d vanish again.

  “I’m sorry I disappeared earlier.” He stood, solid and as real as any other man I’d ever known, and held his hand out to me.

  And when our fingers finally touched, I blew out a breath and whispered, “Julius.”

  Chapter 4

  I’d met Julius two times before. The first brief encounter had been on a job I’d done for Ian just after he left town to work on the traveling ghost hunting show. The client had been the owner of the Jean Baptiste Hotel in the French Quarter, believed to be haunted, and he’d wanted me to get a reading on a ghost. Julius had walked me down the stairs, and I hadn’t even realized he was a ghost until later. The second time had been on Halloween, three months ago. It wasn’t a night I’d forget anytime soon. And as I studied his chiseled face, the memory came flooding back as if it had been just yesterday.

  I stood on the drop cloth with a paintbrush in one hand and a sketch of an idea in the other. Julius was standing in front of me, his shirt unbuttoned already.

  “Are you sure about this?” I asked hesitantly. But really I was buying time. Julius had shown up in the conference room of the hotel out of the blue, and when I’d said I was going to body-paint some models for a party, he offered himself as one of my subjects. “I mean, will you be able to stick around that long?”

  He was a ghost after all, even if he was solid at the moment.

  “Yes, I’m sure, and I’ll be here.” He was gazing at me with an intensity that made me fidget.

  I was used to being ogled and objectified. I’d managed a strip club to put myself through college and to save money to open my own business. It wasn’t the most respectable job in the eyes of the general public, but it had paid well, and that choice had gotten me out of the shitty apartment building where drugs were more common than water. I wasn’t ashamed in the least.

  But I’d never been so completely consumed by someone’s gaze the way I was right then. Julius was taking me in, studying me as if he was memorizing every detail. Or seeing straight into my soul.

  “I want to be your subject,” he said, his tone hoarse.

  My mouth went dry with anticipation. I licked my lips. “Okay.”

  His gaze dropped to my mouth and lingered there.

  Holy sex on a stick. I couldn’t remember the last time my hormones had been so active. “All right. Just put your shirt over there.” I pointed to a chair near the drop cloth.

  Once he was naked from the waist up, I focused on his well-defined chest and started sketching a rough outline of a skeletal hand ripping his heart out of his chest. My brush strokes were slow and deliberate, and when I got to his ribs, he visibly shuddered.

  I stopped and glanced up at him. “Everything okay?”

  He nodded, but when I pressed the brush to his skin again, he clasped his hand over my arm and stopped me. A zing of excitement grabbed hold of my insides. My breath quickened, and for the life of me, I never wanted him to let go.

  “Julius, I…”

  Our faces were inches apart. His warm breath tickled my cheek, and as we locked eyes, I completely lost myself. One minute I was caught up in the sketch on his chest, and the next, all I could think about was pressing my lips to his.

  “I’ve never seen a woman with so much life before.” There was longing in his tone. “It’s… overwhelming.”

  I felt my lips quirk into a small smile. “You’re a little overwhelming yourself.” The knowledge that he was a ghost was right there in the back of my mind, but in that moment, I couldn’t have cared less. Just by standing before me and holding my arm, he was doing things to me I’d never experienced before. And I wasn’t ready to give it up.

  “Kiss me,” I whispered.

  He gave me a slight shake of his head but pulled me closer so our bodies were touching. “It’s probably not a good idea.”

  “I don’t care,” I said boldly and then pressed my mouth to his.

  He hesitated for just a moment, but then his arm went around my waist and reality slipped away as I got lost in the man who had reawakened a long-lost desire I’d forgotten I even had.

  The kiss was still flashing in my mind as Julius’s hand tightened around mine. I gazed into his dark stormy eyes, wishing I could unravel all his secrets. How was it possible he could appear before me, solid, a flesh-and-blood man, when he was dead?

  “Pyper,” he said with a nod and then bent at the waist. His warm lips brushed over my fingers, sending tingles of pleasure straight to my heart.

  “How did you get here?” I asked, letting him lead me to the couch. I sat while he stood with his hands in his pants pockets. He wore dark trousers, a white linen shirt, and a checkered vest. He looked every bit a man from the roaring twenties. All he needed was a bottle of moonshine and a cigar.

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure, exactly. Something happened earlier today when I saw you in the hotel mirror. A force I can’t explain drew me here. Are you displeased?”

  “What? No. Not at all.” I bit my lip. “What do you mean you saw me in the hotel mirror? Jade and I both saw you… Oh. You mean we were each seeing the other’s reflection from two different mirrors. You didn’t just show up in mine.”

  “Yes, that’s correct.” He started to pace. “And now I’m here. It feels like there’s a reason, but I don’t know what that is.”

  “Because you can’t resist me?” I grinned at him.

  His eyes lit with wicked humor. “There’s no question about that.” His amusement faded away as he gazed at me. “I’m not sure how much time I have.”

  “I know.” Julius had been a witch when he was alive, which seemed to be the reason he could appear in solid form even though he was a ghost, but he had no control of it. At least that’s what he’d told me last time we met. According to Lucien, a witch in Jade’s coven, the phenomenon was extremely rare.

  He glanced around. “Is this where you live?”

  I nodded and stood up, not sure what else I was supposed to do. “Want a tour?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Sure. I haven’t seen much except the inside of the Jean Baptiste Hotel for the past ninety years or so.”

  The question of exactly w
hy Julius was able to show up in my apartment when he’d never been there before nagged at the back of my mind. But I didn’t want to waste whatever time we had together.

  Time together. I was an idiot. He was a ghost, and I knew nothing could ever even start between us. I just couldn’t help whatever this magnetic attraction was that I had to him. I shook off the thoughts and led the way to my galley-style kitchen. It had marbled countertops and stainless steel everywhere. Very modern for a building that was more than two hundred years old.

  Julius ran his hand over the cool counter. “This is quite grand.”

  I grinned. “Well, it is a high-end kitchen. But grand? No. It’s just nice compared to most modern kitchens these days.”

  “It is compared to the kitchens at the hotel. Everything is stark and utilitarian.”

  “Sure. But they have to be.” I gestured to the fridge. “Would you like something to drink?” He could eat, right? I had no idea how that worked.

  A wistful look claimed his face. “Do you have any scotch?”

  I raised one eyebrow. “Single malt?”

  He practically drooled as he nodded.

  I laughed. “How long has it been since you’ve had a drink?”

  “Not since the Halloween party.”

  That was three months ago. “Julius?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Is that the last time you were in solid form?”

  “Yeah. It doesn’t happen very often. Only when I’m drawn to someone.”

  Warmth took up residence in my chest, and I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. I brushed past him on the way to my generously stocked liquor cabinet. I actually didn’t drink that much. I’d have cocktails with the girls or a beer with Kane, but in general I was a coffee drinker… in the extreme. We’re talking four or five cups a day. But since Kane’s club was downstairs, it was easy to get whatever I needed. And those bottles never seemed to make it back to the bar.