“What is Beau doing up there?” Charly asks with a frown. “Wait, he’s usually at work right now.”
“He’s not up there,” Mallory confirms. “It’s Miss Louisa.”
Charly stops cold. “He has a woman living with him?”
“No. Well, not a living woman, anyway. Miss Louisa has been here for about a hundred years.”
I wrap my arm around Charly’s shoulders. “So it’s haunted then,” I reply.
“Oh, yes,” Mallory says with a nod. “It’s hard to find a place around here that isn’t. This is New Orleans, after all.”
“Have you seen her?” Charly asks, looking up to the ceiling. She shivers and leans into me.
“Several times, but she doesn’t show herself often. I’m sure your family hasn’t seen her, but they may have heard her. I know Beau has because he’s constantly accusing me of making the noise.”
“What does he say when you explain that it isn’t you?”
“Charly, I’ve never met your brother in person, but he doesn’t seem like the type to believe in ghosts.”
Charly laughs beside me and shakes her head. “You’d be right. Is he giving you a hard time?”
“He’s just difficult now and then. He’s nothing I can’t handle.”
She pushes her blonde hair over her shoulder and winks, and I believe she can handle just about anything thrown at her. There’s an air about her that’s just a little…different.
“Ah, but you believe in ghosts, don’t you, Mr. Simon?”
“I’m from England, darling. Of course I do.”
She nods.
“Do you see ghosts often?” Charly asks, shivering again at the word. Mallory smiles, but her eyes are sober.
“I like you, Charly. I don’t want to scare you off with paranormal talk.”
“You won’t scare me off. I like you too,” Charly says.
“Well, I do see things quite often that can’t really be explained by science. I see Miss Louisa about once a month, and there’s plenty to see in the Quarter in general.”
“Does Miss Louisa talk to you?”
Charly shivers again.
“No, she just looks sad. I don’t ask her questions, I just smile and let her know that she’s safe here.” Mallory takes Charly’s hand and frowns suddenly. “You’re terrified, honey.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You’ve seen some things,” Mallory says, surprising me. She knows things, all right. Her eyes look like she’s seen more than she’d like to share. “You don’t have to be scared. The spirits around you are kind.”
“I have spirits around me?” Charly squeals, her eyes wide.
“We all do,” Mallory replies with a chuckle. “You have problems sleeping. I have just the thing for that.”
She turns to the wall with essential oils and pulls down a small brown vial. “This is vetiver. Just put one or two drops on the soles of your feet and rub them together at bedtime. It’ll help you sleep like a baby.”
“Really?” Charly uncaps it and sniffs, then scowls. “It doesn’t smell good.”
“No, but it works. Here, take some lavender as well, and that’ll cover the smell of the vetiver.”
“How much do I owe you?” Charly asks.
“This is on me,” Mallory replies. “Those shoes you sold me are divine, and I was the talk of the wedding.”
“It’s not nice to outshine the bride,” Charly says.
“Well, then I guess the bride should have bought her shoes from you.” Mallory bags up the oils and passes them to Charly.
“I think we’re going to be good friends, Mallory.”
“I hope so,” Mallory replies. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Simon.”
I nod and guide Charly back out to her car. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Her hands shake as she starts the car.
“She spooked you.”
“I’m a grown woman who lives in the ghost story capital of the world,” she says with a roll of the eyes, but she’s not fooling me. “I’m just fine.”
“If you say so.”
***
“Did you hear that?” Charly asks that night as we lie in bed. This is the third time she’s asked me in ten minutes.
“No,” I reply and hug her close. “Go to sleep.”
“The vetiver isn’t working.”
“Because you’re too busy listening for ghosts,” I reply and kiss her forehead. “How long have you lived in this house?”
“About five years.”
“And have you ever heard anything before?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, there you go. Your imagination is working overtime. Now go to sleep.”
She settles against me, and just as I’m about to drift off, her head jerks up. “Don’t tell me you didn’t hear that.”
“Okay, that’s it.” I roll on top of her and pin her to the bed, my face buried in her neck.
“What are you doing?”
“Refocusing your attention, since you won’t let me go to sleep.”
“You can sleep. I’m sorry.” She gasps when I pull her nipple between my teeth. “Oh, that’s nice.”
I grin and pay the same attention to the other breast, then slide down her body. I push her knees up beside her ears and lick her, from anus to clit, twice, and then I push inside her in one fast thrust.