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At home, he pulled up a secret database on which he was an invisible member and went through the list. Only a handful of powerful mediums existed around the globe. The problem was that the medium could be anywhere in the world. With a ghost, you never knew. Geographical limits didn’t apply.
The noise of the clawing increased. The sound was like nails scraping on a blackboard. Not able to stand it, any longer, he switched on the television and plugged in his earphones. After spending two fruitless hours on the internet, he sat back and stretched. He expected another visit from Nicolas soon. Normally, spirits didn’t wait long to make their wishes known. He’d found Alice, as Nicolas had advised, and like the spirit had promised, hundreds of dead souls encroached on him. Boris was definitely a threat, and he didn’t like that the dead man knew how much Alice meant to him. She was everything. Without her, he had no purpose. Nothing. No career. Even that was for her. When he told her he’d never left her, he’d meant it. She’d always been his. His absence was only to make something of himself, something she’d be proud of and respect. She’d always been a part of him, and she’d always be. No one—not her filthy rich bourgeois dad, not a powerful man like Godfrey, and certainly not a despicable ghost like Boris—was going to take her away from him.
When Alice walked through the door of Jerry’s Pizza, Henry waved from a table in a private corner. The fragrance of a wood fire, oregano, and garlic infused the air. It was cozy inside. She made her way to the back and removed her raincoat.
Henry got to his feet. “I’m glad you could make it.” He took her coat and seated her. Motioning at a bottle of red that was open, he asked, “Will you join me?”
She rubbed her neck. “Gladly.”
He poured two glasses and handed her one. “Rough day?”
“In my kind of job every day is rough.”
“It can’t be easy.”
“No tougher than your job.”
“Why do you put up with it?” he asked.
“I love what I do.”
She took a sip of wine and adjusted her naked butt on the seat. Thinking about the afternoon, a flutter contracted her stomach. That wasn’t where her mind was supposed to go.
She became aware of Henry staring and managed a watery smile. “What?”
“You seem flushed. Are you coming down with something?”
“Just tired.” She averted her eyes, pretending to study the menu. “What do you recommend?”
“The gnocchi is my favorite.”
“Sounds good.” She pushed the menu aside. “Can we talk about why I’m here? It’s been stressing me since you called.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“I know, but I can’t stand the suspense, any longer. You and Johnny are friendly. I know he told you about the theater’s financial situation. The pop concert is our last chance—”
“It’s not the kind of news that’ll kill your sales.”
“Dirt on Ivan’s past? The story about the dog that saved him is old news.”
He took a photo from his pocket and pushed it over the table. “The paparazzi sold this to us.”
She leaned forward to look at it. It was a picture of her and Ivan leaving The Ritz after he’d fucked her. The disheveled state of her hair and her crumpled dress almost made her cringe, but she kept a straight face when she lifted her gaze to Henry.
“We work together.”
His smile was forgiving but his eyes disapproving. “Let’s be honest. You were caught leaving Ivan Kray’s hotel not looking your best.”
Her cheeks heated. “That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”
“I respect you too much to tell you otherwise.”
“All right, I’d had a rough day, and I didn’t look like a model. It doesn’t prove anything.”
“It looks downright suspicious, enough to make a clever reporter like Patrick find out you went to the same school as Ivan and question if you have history.”
She held her breath. She wasn’t going to offer information Henry didn’t have, but he crushed her hope when he said, “You were high school sweethearts.”
“Where’s the crime in that? It was a long time ago.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.” His eyes took on a sympathetic light.
“What is it, then?”
“You were selected for the London Art Academy exchange program.”
“Yes?”
“Did you know Ivan applied for the same scholarship?”
“What?” They’d been competitors? “He never mentioned it.” Why would he hide it? Had he been embarrassed that she’d won and he not?
He looked away. She waited while he seemed to weigh his words.
Finally, he faced her, again. “He was selected for the exchange.”
“What?” She frowned. “It doesn’t make sense. They only offered one scholarship.”
He gave her a penetrating stare. “Correct.”
Slowly, his meaning sank in. Her mouth went dry. “No.”
“I’m sorry you have to find out like this.”
It couldn’t be true. “He won?”
“When he found out you were the runner-up, he withdrew.”
