Reed rose and held the door for her. Even when they were in direct competition, he always had flawless manners, a sort of gentlemanly charm that made other woman fall head over heels for him. Other women. Right. Life would be easier if she hadn't spent one or two—one or two dozen—nights thinking about his flirtatious little smile and that look in his eyes that said more clearly than words that he was a man who loved women.
Sara tightened her fingers around her bag and rose to her feet. Now was not the time to let his pretty smile and his pretty manners make her stupid. Not with the most important opportunity of her career hanging in the balance. And you're wearing track pants, Sara. Brilliant. Just f**king brilliant.
Dr. Kendrick had been the Dean of the School of Paranormal Studies for two years, during which he'd turned the previously spartan office of his predecessor into a delightfully cluttered shrine to all things odd and kooky. Usually Sara loved being in his office. She could spend hours examining the magical knick-knacks he'd picked up all over the world while he told her their stories. Her own magical talent was minor at best, but Dr. Kendrick had never made her feel like less of a magical scholar because of it. Not like her father, whose disappointment in having a child who was practically human had resulted in his near complete withdrawal from her life.
And the last time she'd seen him had been at the department's Career Fair, when he'd spent most of the afternoon engaged in hearty, enthusiastic conversation with Reed. He hadn't even broken from his determined recruitment pitch for long enough to acknowledge his own daughter. Not with Reed in front of him, brilliant Reed whose modesty about his talents as a medium didn't make him any less desirable to corporate executives like her father.
Just be glad Reed doesn't know he's your father and get over it, she told herself as she lowered herself into the nearest chair. Reed followed suit, since he was far too polite to sit before she'd taken a seat herself.
Dr. Kendrick smiled at them. “I suppose I don't have to explain to you both why you're here. Halloween is this Friday, and the committee is supposed to announce the winner of the Montera Grant."
She chanced a glance at Reed. He was composed, unflappable. Then she noticed with satisfaction that his leg bounced nervously. “Have they made a decision yet?” he asked without a hint of that nervousness.
"It wasn't an easy one. The circumstances are ... a bit unusual.” Dr. Kendrick smiled and leaned back in his chair. “We've never had two students with such competitive portfolios before. You have perfect GPAs, you're both excellent teachers and you each presented very interesting proposals."
Sara could almost hear the ‘but’ coming, and the way Dr. Kendrick was looking at her now, slightly worried, made her heart sink. Maybe he's more sadistic than I thought...
"This wasn't an easy decision,” he continued, turning his gaze to Reed. “But we spoke to Mr. Montera, and he agreed to a compromise. We've decided to offer you both the opportunity to visit Villa Montera on Halloween. You will share the grant and the publication credit."
Reed's jaw tightened and then he smiled. “Well, Sara. Looks like we're sharing dessert after all."
Sara smiled back, just a little too sweetly, and nodded. “Looks like we are.” Haunted house. Alone. All night long. With f**king hot Reed. Fate hated her. Or loved her. She wasn't sure which.
Dr. Kendrick cleared his throat and slid two folders across the table. “Your information, instructions and paperwork."
Reed picked them both up and handed her one, his fingers brushing hers for a second. She ignored her body's reaction and clutched the folder to her chest. “Thank you."
The professor seemed unconvinced by their show of civility. He glanced at Sara with one eyebrow slightly raised, but she ignored it. “Is there anything else we need to know?"
"No.” Dr. Kendrick sighed and waved a hand toward the door. “I've got another meeting in fifteen minutes, so if you don't have any questions...?"
"Not a single one,” Reed assured him. “We'll get out of your way. We have a lot to talk about, after all."
Any hope of a dignified escape vanished. Sara rose to her feet and summoned up the best smile she could manage. “Thank you, Dr. Kendrick."
"Congratulations, to both of you."
Sara wanted to go home, take a hot shower and forget this day had ever happened. Instead she stopped outside and turned, watching Reed as he closed the door to the dean's office behind him. “Well?"
"Well what?” He checked his watch and looked her up and down again. “Want to get some coffee? We need to talk about a few things before All Hallow's Eve."
The angry heat was back in her cheeks. His grace and charm always brought out the opposite in her, leaving her feeling clumsy and unlikable. The events of the day had done nothing to soothe the feelings of inadequacy and resentment that had been growing in her since the damn Career Fair.
Those feelings made her feel ungracious, and she snapped at him without meaning to. “Can you handle being seen in public with someone so poorly groomed?"
"I...” For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. Then he smiled, and her stomach flip-flopped. “I think you look fine, Sara.” His voice was low and amused. “I have no problem being seen in public with you. But can you say the same about me?"
The way her heart thumped in her chest was unfair. Everyone loved Reed. Teachers, students, friends ... My own damn father ... She would not be just another person under his spell. Not even if some days she thought maybe she wanted to be.
He was still looking at her, his eyes almost too knowing. She drew herself up with what little dignity she could scrape together and gave him a cool look. “I have no problem being seen in public with you. What I lack is time. You know my e-mail address. Send me a note. I have to get back to work."
Something flashed in his eyes. “The insinuation being that I don't.” His smile grew wider, and he inclined his head. “You're getting better at the sneaky insults. I think academia's going to suit you just fine.” He turned and walked away, leaving her wondering how she'd once again managed to prove that Reed was a better person than she.
Maybe he is.
* * * *
Reed slammed the front door of his first-floor apartment and gritted his teeth when a framed photograph fell off the wall. Glass shattered, and he cursed. “Perfect. Fucking perfect."
"Mom would kick your ass if she heard you talk like that.” His sister, Harrison, appeared out of nowhere and smirked at him.
He sighed and tossed his bag on the couch. “Really not in the mood today, Harri. I almost lost the Montera grant."
She snorted and tossed her head, making her golden curls cascade over her shoulder. “You couldn't care less about the grant. You want to get in that house."
"It's all the same,” he reminded her as he headed into the kitchen to find the broom. “The grant, the paper, and the haunting. It's a package deal."
"Aren't they always?” She bent and picked up the fallen frame. “Hey, this is a picture of me, you jackass."
"Sorry.” He took the photograph from her and laid it on the coffee table, then started sweeping up the broken glass. “I'll replace it tomorrow."
"You'd better.” She dropped to the sofa and drew her knees up under her chin. “You have to go with her, don't you?"
He growled. Sara Patel had been a thorn in his side since his first year. She'd had the advantage of having done her undergraduate work at the university, and he'd had to work twice as hard in every class just to match her grades and achievements. To make matters worse, she was constantly looking down her nose at him because he didn't want to finish his doctorate and teach. “She still thinks I'm scum because I don't want to sprout a tweed sports jacket and lecture for the rest of my life."
Harrison suppressed a laugh. “The real question is ... why do you give a damn?"
"I don't.” He almost winced when he heard the defensive tone of his own voice. “Screw you, Harri."
This time, she didn't bother to choke back her amusement. “You like her."
He coaxed the glass fragments into the dustpan and straightened, fixing her with a withering glare. “Were you this annoying when you were alive?"
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You're too young to remember, but I was actually worse.” She rose from the couch with unearthly grace and headed down the hall. “Let me know if you decide to watch something entertaining on TV, would you?"
He tossed the glass in the garbage can and carefully removed the photograph from the ruined frame. Harrison still looked the same, a smiling sixteen-year-old with bright eyes and the world at her feet. He remembered the day his father had taken the picture, how Harri had coaxed him into one last piggyback ride before he grew too old and too heavy for them.
He'd just turned five, and Harrison had died in a car accident a week later.
Reed sighed again. What good was his gift if he couldn't use it for work? He hadn't had a reason to do so, at least not yet, but staying at the Villa Montera on Halloween was perfect. He could make contact with one of the most notorious hauntings in the state, and possibly more.
He just wanted to accomplish one thing an actual employer would find impressive. Dry, esoteric research papers might excite lifers like Sara Patel, but a corporate contract required real results.
And this haunting would be nothing if not a challenge. Plenty of others had tried and failed to make significant contact. If he could manage to communicate with and ultimately free the spirit that had haunted the Villa Montera for the last century and a half, it would prove his ability. He could write his own ticket with any paranormal specialty firm in the country.
Only now he had to do it with Sara breathing down his neck. It wouldn't be easy, and she'd more than likely be horrified by his attempts. To her, spirits were nothing more than research material. She'd never understand they were just as complex in death as they'd been in life, if not more so.