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I grimace when I see that my buddy is out on the balcony. Noel’s usually happy go lucky smile is missing and for once, the smarmy bastard is alone.
“Hey, Noel. What are you doing out here alone?”
He just shrugs and keeps staring down at the dark patio. “No reason. Just resting.”
I don’t know what’s going on there but he takes a sip of his drink and smiles. “I better head on in. I’ve got to do a little networking tonight.”
“How are things going with the job?”
“You know Hollywood.”
“Yeah. I do.” He doesn’t say anything just walks out the door and I watch him, my brow crinkling.
He doesn’t look alright. He looks…well, on anyone else, I’d say shattered. But that’s not Noel. He doesn’t get serious about anything except work.
I lean my hand on the railing and hear the buzz of voices in the background. I close my eyes and breathe deep, just trying to center myself to go back in there and wander through those assholes again. Listen to them critique my heart when they study my painting.
Then the buzz becomes louder and louder and I frown, angrily trying to shut it out.
Voices shout and then someone else, I think it’s the woman who’s running everything, hollers something back. “Stay away from the paintings, everyone. Thank you.”
I don’t know what just happened but I sigh and take a sip of my white wine, groaning when it doesn’t take the edge off of my strain.
I don’t want to be here. I’m still pissed that Booker talked me into this. He finally realizes that I’m good and of course, being him, he can’t just leave it alone.
My lips twist when I remember his arguing every damn second of the day until I gave in and agreed. He’s like a damn dog with a bone when he’s got something in his head.
The place gets louder again and I throw my head back, tossing back the wine, trying to work up the nerve to head back in there.
“I didn’t know that you liked these kinds of things,”
That voice. My head tips back and I feel my heart skip a beat. I’ve been hearing it since she left. Every day, every minute, I hear it, laughing and shooting me some smartass comment while I laugh at her.
I’ve never laughed so much in my life. And I never will again.
“I hate these kinds of things,” I whisper, answering her even though I know she’s not here.
“Then why come?” I swear it feels like there’s someone out here and that scares the hell out of me. What if it’s a ghost? What if she’s…?
I can’t finish that sentence.
“My brother.” My lips twist when she laughs that husky laugh that always made me join in.
“I didn’t think anybody could talk you into doing something you didn’t want to do.”
“They can’t. But I was feeling…”. I can’t finish that sentence either.
“What were you feeling, Merrick?”
My brow wrinkles and I start to open my eyes. “Don’t open your eyes, Merrick. What were you feeling?”
“Lost? Lonely? I don’t know.”
“I missed you too.” I can hear tears in her voice and my eyes pop open. Ghosts don’t cry. Do they?
But when I turn, she’s standing there, her smile soft and her eyes wary but yet still full of love and laughter.
“Onyx?”
