Haunt Your Heart Out

Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

We didn’t waste time heading to his new place to break it in, as it were. The apartment was perfect for James: cozy (small) and rustic (in need of a few touch-ups) with a sliding glass door that opened up into a fenced backyard, perfect for shaggy little dogs who liked to make their owner worry. Lulu had already made herself at home in the yard, made obvious by the dog-shaped snow angel that was no more than two feet out the back door. I got the grand tour after our acrobatic make-up session. A bedroom, an office that doubled as a guest room, combined kitchen and dining area, and a bathroom with a teeny tiny stall shower.

“A great start,” James said. “Not splitting rent six ways really cuts into the budget, so no more ski chalet living for a while.”

“So signing a lease must mean there’s an income source?” I asked.

He raised a brow. “Are you looking for the temporary plan, or the long-term goals?”

“I think we’ve already made my stance on temporary quite clear.” I crossed my arms.

James reached out, grasped my elbows in his hands, and squeezed. “I’m exploring my options, but have accepted a position as a cemetery caretaker. I’ll be able to take over the remaining school loan payments for my mom, but she doesn’t want to accept money for back payments. She insists it’s under control, but I want to see her thriving, not just managing. She’s agreed to accept a small percentage if the film wins the competition, but only if it wins. The cemetery let me accept the position on a trial basis to start—and I think I might stick with it. Daytime hours only.”

“Oh, good. If it was after dark, I’d be tempted to stage a few hauntings. You know, just to see how serious you really are about the job.”

“Haunt your heart out,” James said. “I’m not scared.”

I beamed. “It’s a bit ironic.”

“How so?”

“If it wasn’t for that cemetery, I wouldn’t have fallen for you, and now it’s what’s keeping you here.”

“This town is what’s keeping me here,” he said, deadpan.

“I stand corrected.” I waved my hands sarcastically. “So, you’ve got your future figured out. Let’s chat a bit about mine.”

“The store?” James asked.

“I know we didn’t really get a chance to finish this conversation the other day, but I found out last week I didn’t get the loan. They think I’m a liability, which … fair. I was just hoping for a holiday miracle.”

James cupped the back of my head with one hand and smoothed my disheveled hair with the other. “How about a fundraiser? The town would come together to raise the money. It’s very feel-good, small-town holiday, happily ever after.”

“How incredibly Hallmark. But no, I couldn’t ask people to do that. They already do enough for me around here. Everyone bends over backward to make sure I’m safe and healthy and happy. Mrs. Norton offered to bring me a pot of stew yesterday because she thought my splotchy crying cheeks were from a cold.”

“Lex.” James swiped his thumbs beneath my eyes, wiping away tears that had already dried—and been made up for. “You can’t live your entire life thinking you’re an island. People are here for you, so let them be. Lean on someone else for once, please.”

“I’ve spent too long striving for self-sufficiency, thank you. I’ll figure it out. I’ll ask Charles if I can have an extension or something.”

“How long can you keep pushing it out?”

“I guess we’ll find out. Besides, I feel guilty about the ghosts thing.”

“Because of the documentary? Don’t worry about it. We found an angle, and kept it in. Emily, too.”

“You did?” My eyebrows pulled together as I considered what that meant, not only for the film’s chances of being outed as faked but also for Charles. It was a hell of a time to find morals relating to fake hauntings. “I have to tell Charles the truth. If he only sells to me because we lied, that guilt will follow me. It’s bad enough that I lured you here under false pretenses.”

He rolled his eyes, then tugged me closer by the hem of my sweater. “For the last time, your vlog was a perk , not the basis.”

“Maybe so …” I kissed him, a quick peck on the lips, then pulled back. My sweater popped back into place when he let go of his light grasp. “Why couldn’t he have offered to sell before? I’d made my intentions more than clear for the last two years, at least. Then I’d at least be able to buy it with a clear conscience.” And for far more than he was asking now, but at least the guilt wouldn’t follow me. Though, my parents’ guilt trips hadn’t gotten me to follow them to California so maybe there was hope after all. If only I could turn their we’re sorry s into cold, hard cash.

But that was wishful thinking.

Unless …

I tugged my phone out of my back pocket and gestured toward James’s brand new guest bedroom slash office space. “Do you mind if I make a quick call?”

“All yours,” he said.

I leaned a hip against the wall and closed my eyes, breathing deep to work up the courage to take the next step. Then I dialed my mother’s number.

She picked up immediately and greeted me with an overly enthusiastic “Lex!” The way the nickname rolled off her tongue, only a tiny hesitation before using it, warmed my heart. Things were looking up, and all it had taken was thirty-three years and a giant holiday fight.

“Hey, Mom. Uh, how are you? Things good?”

“Things are fine. Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“Is, umm, Dad there too?”

After a whisper and a bit of crackling on the line, as if she was waving my father closer to the phone, she said, “Okay, he’s here. Should I put you on speaker?”

“Unless you want to relay this to him, then yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

I waited until she finished fiddling and confirmed that they could both hear me, then I prepared to make my request.

“As you know, I want to buy Dog-Eared from Charles. And, I may have made a few mistakes while trying to reach that goal. I have a favor to ask, a really huge one, and if you can let me finish my pitch before denying it, I would appreciate it.”

“We’re listening …” my father said, the skepticism almost comical.

“I want to buy the bookstore.”

“We’re aware—” my father tried to cut in, but I cleared my throat and he quieted.

“I want to make Charles another offer—a better one. I don’t want to purchase it based on a lie or for less than its true value. So, I’m going to ask him to have it appraised and make a deal based on the store’s worth as a business and real estate location. Because everyone knows that I’m a bad bet when it comes to financials, I’m on the market for a loan. Or an investor. Either way.”

“We can give you the money, no problem,” my father said. “Are you still banking at the same place?”

“No, Dad. I want to pay you back. With interest. It’s a loan, because as much as I want to do this on my own, it will cost significantly more than the current offer. Every bank from here to the moon knows better than to do business with me so I think I need to ask for help. Not a gift, okay? A loan.”

There was the briefest pause, and then Mom asked, “Is this your dream?”

“Absolutely,” I answered without hesitation.

“We’ll work up an agreement for repayment, then. With one important stipulation: You don’t begin repaying us until the store is turning a profit.”

“That could take forever, Mom. I can’t accept those terms.”

“Then no loan.”

I laughed. “Seems a little backward to me.”

“When have we ever made sense?” she retorted.

True. “Well when you put it like that . Okay. I agree to the terms.”

Expecting the phone call to end after the business was complete, as usual, I prepared to say goodbye. But my father cleared his throat. “So, read any good books lately?” he asked.

A smile burst to life across my face. “A few, Dad. Are you looking for recommendations?”

After filling him in on the latest development in my bookstore saga, James let me pace through his kitchen for about five minutes before putting a stop to it. “You’re going to wear a hole straight through the subfloor if you don’t knock it off.”

“Okay, okay. I’m doing it. I’m calling him.” I dialed the number and hoped with everything I had that it would go to voicemail. Leaving a message meant I could go longer without my dreams being dashed.

Charles picked up on the second ring. “Everything okay?” he asked, as if the only reason I’d call him would be for an emergency.

“I can’t give you forty thousand, Charles.”

He didn’t reply right away, and the little crackle on the line about pulled my soul from my body. When he did, his tone was full of concern. “If it’s a matter of time, then I won’t hold you to our original deadline.”

“It’s not time, Charles, it’s the amount. You put everything into the store, and I feel like I’m taking advantage of the situation—of you—and it’s not okay.”

“I set the price, Lex. There’s nobody being taken advantage of here.”

I squeezed my eyes closed. “There’s no ghost. The whole thing was fake, and James and Julian had no idea. You’re selling based on that lie, and if you let the store go for less than it’s worth, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“What do you mean, there’s no ghost?” The gravelly voice pricked goosebumps along my arms. Disappointing anyone was my worst nightmare, but especially Charles.

“I’m sorry, I really am. It all started with a few videos from years ago and—”

A chuckle came across the line, which grew from mild to merry, before Charles apologized. “You think I’d never seen Haunted Happenings ? I’m old, Lex, but I know how to use the internet. I know about your vlog and particular talent for creating things that go bump in the night.”

“You knew ? And you were going to let the store go for that price?” It didn’t make sense. He’d grown that store from a handful of shelves to an entire paperback kingdom.

“How else was I going to convince you that your time had come? You wouldn’t have asked to buy it otherwise. You’re the heart of that store, and I’m tired of trying to keep up with the times. Don’t worry about the deadline—the store is yours, as soon as you’ve got funding in place. I won’t let it go to anyone else.”

“Charles.” I wasn’t speechless. The opposite, actually. I had too many things I wanted to say, and none of them felt enough . “I want to pay a fair price for it. I’ve got a loan lined up, and I don’t want to rip you off.”

His laughter returned, this time a full-blown guffaw. “I will take the agreed-upon price, not a penny more, and you’ll hang a photo of me on the wall beside the desk so I can keep an eye on the place.”

My heart warmed. I slapped a hand over my chest with my free hand and squeezed the phone with my other. “Thank you, Charles.”

He tutted. “Thank you, for always making sure my dream could grow bigger than I imagined.”