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Authors: Meg Benjamin

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Even now, the sight of those well-toned shoulders through the damp fabric of his T-shirt was enough to give her mild palpitations.

Too bad he was such a jerk.

Of course, he’d dialed down the jerk factor somewhat since they’d talked cash. And she supposed she couldn’t entirely blame him for being annoyed since she’d interrupted his work. But still. He seemed to be going out of his way to be provocative.

She detoured around a sawhorse and managed not to trip over a bit of carpet at the side. Between the construction junk and the general effect of Ray Ramos, she’d be lucky to get out of this place without at least a sprained ankle or two.

The house had all kinds of possibilities, even though it was basically empty. An empty haunted house could really work well for the show since Gabrielle wouldn’t have to dodge around furniture when she was doing her thing. Breakable knick-knacks tended to inhibit her more dramatic gestures. Plus, of course, an empty house was much more spooky.

Since there was so little furniture in the house, they’d have to bring in the right kind of table for the séance. And get some chairs that matched. But that shouldn’t be a problem, assuming that Gabrielle would be willing to spring for the expense.

On the whole, Emma was pleased with the location. Gabrielle should be satisfied. Of course the distance between
should be
and
satisfied
was sometimes large where Gabrielle was concerned.

Ramos knelt down in the doorway ahead of her, exposing a swath of tanned back as he leaned forward. “You can see the original flooring here,” he said. “Some numbnut installed carpeting on top of it, but it looks to be in good shape underneath.”

Good shape. Definitely.
Lordy, she needed to get out of here and take a cold shower or something. “So you’re going to take up all the carpeting?”

He nodded. “Eventually. If you’ll tell me which rooms you’ll be working in downstairs, I’ll pull it up there first and get the floors cleaned.”

“Okay.” She made a great show of looking at her watch. “Gee, look at the time. I’d better get going. I have some things to set up for Gabrielle tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He stood again, wiping his hands. “What time do you think she’ll want to see the place?”

“I’m not sure.” Emma turned toward the stairs, trying to escape as casually as possible. “I’ll call you after I talk to her. Probably the day after tomorrow.”

“How are you going to call me?”

She paused at the bottom of the staircase, turning back to look at him. “Pardon?”

His lips edged up in a dry grin. Nice lips. Nice brown eyes. Sandy hair, cut short, just long enough to run her fingers through. Not that she’d ever have the chance to do that.

“You don’t have my number.” His grin became a little more pronounced.

Well, crap.
She pulled out her cell. “Could you give it to me?”

“210-555-8312.”

She tapped the numbers into her address book quickly, then turned back toward the door again. “Well, then, I’ll call you tomorrow,” she trilled.

Trilled?
She was willing to bet she’d never trilled at anyone in her life before. Ramos was rapidly reducing her to mush. She really needed to get out of there before she did something incredibly stupid. She started across the foyer, tripped over a loose seam in the carpet, and just managed to catch herself on the doorjamb.

Ramos stepped beside her quickly, his hand dropping to her shoulder. “You okay?”

She blew out a breath, trying to pull back her last few shreds of professionalism. “Sure. Just a trip. I’m fine.”

“Great.” His voice sounded slightly dry. She decided not to notice.

“Thanks again.” She turned back to give him one last glistening smile and froze in the doorway. The sunlight coming through the side window outlined his squarish jaw, his high, flat cheekbones. Holy crap, he was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. And absolutely out of her league.

“You sure you’re okay?” His expression morphed from slightly amused to slightly concerned. Probably because she was behaving like a lunatic.

“Sure. Fine. Talk to you tomorrow.” She shot out the front door, trotting to her car as if he were following her.

She should be so lucky.

She turned to take one last look at the house. Gray. Shadowy. Mysterious. Gabrielle would love it.

As long as she loved Ray Ramos too, they should be fine. Emma didn’t pause to analyze just why the idea of Gabrielle loving Ray Ramos made her shoulders clench.

Chapter 2

Ray called Kevin first thing the next morning. He figured he might as well find out if his partner had any objections to séances before they went any further.

However, objections didn’t seem to be a problem. “
American Medium?
” Kevin sounded a lot more excited that Ray did. “Cool. Sherry watches it every week. She loves it.”

The fact that Kevin’s girlfriend was a fan didn’t do much to make Ray feel better. As much as he liked Sherry, Ray would have felt better about the whole thing if Kevin had watched the show himself.

“What about you?” he asked “Do you watch it with her?”

“It’s okay. The money won’t hurt.”

Definitely not.
“If they say the house is haunted, will that make it harder to sell?”

“Nope. Might even make it easier.” He could almost hear Kevin’s grin. “I mean, it’s King William. Every damn house in the neighborhood’s got something going on, right?”

“Right.” He blew out a breath.
The money won’t hurt.
He’d just keep telling himself that.

“It isn’t really, is it?” The grin in Kevin’s voice wasn’t quite as definite anymore.

“Not really what?”

“Haunted. I mean, you’ve been there for a week or so. You haven’t seen anything, have you?” Now Kevin sounded slightly nervous.

Ray sighed. “No. It’s just a house, Kev. In lousy shape.”

“Right.” Now it was Kevin’s turn to sigh. “You want to bring the crew in? We could take McCoy and Sanchez off the Briscoe house.”

“Not yet. Let them get finished there. I’ll do as much as I can on my own.” Given that the Briscoe house was a paying proposition, while the King William house was currently a large, limestone white elephant, it made more sense to let all the crew stay in Boerne.

“Right, well, I’m glad it’s not haunted. Let me know what happens with the whole
American Medium
thing.” Kevin was grinning again. “Sherry’s going to go nuts when I tell her.”

“Great. I’m glad somebody gets to be happy.”

***

“I’m sorry, Emma dear. I’m just not feeling any emanations.” Gabrielle regarded the house from the air-conditioned interior of Emma’s car, her lower lip protruding slightly in a pout. She lifted one heavily ringed hand to smooth back a strand of hair that had slid loose from the mass of blonde waves.

Emma managed not to sigh. “It’s sort of the right period, Gabrielle. And the grounds are nice.”

Gabrielle shook her head. “None of that matters if the spirits don’t cooperate. I get no feeling from this place at all, no presence.” She sighed. “Let’s go on to the next one.”

Emma put the car in gear, pulling away from the curb. The streets in Monte Vista were fairly narrow and full of parked cars, making navigation a little like an obstacle course. She probably should have started with the Mahncke Park house, which would have been easier to look at quickly.

Gabrielle always rejected the first house—Emma was used to it by now. Maybe it took a while for the spirits to start cooperating. Or maybe Gabrielle just wanted to make a point about who was in charge. Usually, they began with a “burner” house that could be skipped quickly, but even if Emma had started with her best choice, she was pretty sure Gabrielle would have rejected it anyway. Rituals had to be observed.

The real question was how she’d feel about the second house. Was she ready to get down to business or was she still trying to tune up her psychic aura? Emma was never sure how long it would take Gabrielle to get in touch with the universe. She hated to waste her best prospects if Gabrielle wasn’t warmed up yet.

On the other hand, she really didn’t want to spend more time chauffeuring Gabrielle around San Antonio in the summer heat than she had to. It gave Gabrielle way too many opportunities to tell her about another diet that would surely, absolutely help Emma lose those last nagging pounds. The ones Gabrielle could see even if nobody else noticed.

Screw it.
Emma turned the car toward the King William District.

Gabrielle settled deeper into her seat, watching the San Antonio streets slip by with a slightly dreamy expression. She wore one of her working dresses, something soft and billowing in sea foam. It would look absolutely great if she were walking across a misty lawn in twilight. In full sunlight in San Antonio, she looked a little like a refugee from a garden party.

A lot of things about Gabrielle were over the top—the pale golden hair that usually flowed around her ageless face, the suspiciously taut skin across her chin line, the dangling chandelier earrings that swung seductively when she walked. But nobody wanted to argue with success, least of all Emma. After all, she had a relatively well-paying job in the entertainment industry. What more could she ask for? Besides a boss who didn’t have such exacting standards for employee appearance, that is.

“How’s your diet going, sweetheart?” Gabrielle cooed, right on schedule.

“Fine. I’m supposed to be on maintenance now, according to the Web site.”

“Maintenance?” One perfectly penciled eyebrow arched up. “Really?”

“That’s what they say. For someone with my height, anyway.”

“Oh dear.” Gabrielle shook her head. “You can’t trust those charts, you know. They always exaggerate the sizes.”

Emma managed not to roll her eyes. She felt like she’d been on a diet ever since she’d come to work for Gabrielle. Probably because she had been. “I’m close to my goal weight now. According to Calorie Counters.”

“Well, goals can always change, can’t they? People in our business really have to be careful about weight, you know. The camera adds ten pounds.” She turned to stare out the window as they entered the King William District.

People in our business. Right.
Since Emma never appeared before the camera, she didn’t quite see why she had to be super thin. Gabrielle, needless to say, disagreed.

“Where are we going?” Gabrielle squinted at the mansions passing by. “Oh my, this doesn’t look promising. It’s all been renovated. Renovation can drive away the spirits.”

Because the spirits hate that new paint smell apparently.
“Not all the houses here have been renovated. And it’s one of the oldest neighborhoods in the city.”

Gabrielle subsided into ominous silence. Emma’s heart dropped. Maybe she’d decide to reject the second house, too. Which meant the third house would be make or break. If Gabrielle rejected them all, they’d be back to square one. Or rather, Emma would.

She pulled the car into a slot in front of the Ramos house. “This is another one. It’s currently being worked on, but the owner says he can get it cleaned up if you approve.”

Gabrielle gave a faint “hmph” as she studied the house through narrowed eyes. “Can we get inside today?”

Emma nodded. “I called the owner. He should be here.”
Knock on wood.
If Ramos wasn’t around, Gabrielle would probably decide the spirits weren’t cooperating here either.

“Let’s look at it.” Gabrielle pressed her fingers to her lips, staying in her seat until Emma opened her door. She drifted pensively up the sidewalk, studying the house’s exterior. Emma had the feeling she was trying to frown, although her forehead wasn’t cooperating.

Watch it, Gabrielle. There’s only so much Botox can do.

Emma rang the doorbell as Gabrielle stared around the front gallery. “Interesting shadows at the end of the gallery,” Emma said tentatively.

Gabrielle sighed. But at least she didn’t shake her head.

Ramos opened the door, almost smiling this time. He wore a polo shirt with his jeans rather than a T-shirt, and he still wasn’t wearing his carpenter’s belt. Probably just as well—Emma didn’t need any added distractions, given that she still had to deal with her employer.

Emma gave him a quick smile. “Good morning.” She nervously cleared her throat as she turned to her employer. “Gabrielle, this is Mr. Ramos. He owns the house.”

Gabrielle turned in Ramos’s direction, then paused, taking a longer look and extending her hand languidly. “Delighted.” She sounded like she meant it. Considering the Ramos wow factor, she probably did.

Ramos shook her hand briskly. “Come in, ladies.”

Emma followed them up the hall, watching the slightly accentuated sway of Gabrielle’s hips. She might have been on the far side of fifty, but apparently she appreciated a good-looking man as much as the next woman.

She paused in the parlor doorway, her eyes widening slightly. “You’re working here?”

Ramos nodded. “I took up the carpeting yesterday. Eventually, I’ll have to strip off the wallboard and fix the molding, but that can wait if you want to film in the house.”

“Oh my, that sounds like a great deal of work. We’d need to have the room cleaned before we could do anything with it. You do understand, don’t you?” She gave him another seductive smile, regarding him from beneath her lowered lashes.

Ramos nodded again. He didn’t seem to feel like smiling himself. “The floor can be cleared off. And I can take down the curtains if you need more light.”

Gabrielle shook her head. “Oh no, the lighting seems fine as it is.”

Of course, she meant the lack of lighting was fine. Ghosts were never as convincing in full sunlight.
Too bad.
Getting rid of the heavy brocade curtains would have improved the room a lot in Emma’s opinion. They looked like they dated back to the fifties.

Gabrielle sashayed further down the hall. At least she seemed to be enjoying herself. She paused in the dining room doorway. “This one has good space, but the carpet . . . Oh my dear, I’m sorry. Just impossible.”

Ramos nodded. “The carpet will go. I’m tearing it up throughout the house. I just haven’t gotten to this room yet.”

“Is it . . . difficult work?” Gabrielle directed a sultry glance in his direction.

He appeared not to notice. “Not really. Just rip it up and get rid of it.”

Gabrielle’s glance stayed sultry. “I see. It must be very hot working in here.”

He shrugged. “It’s hot working anywhere around this time of year.”

“I’m sure it is.” Gabrielle gave him a slow smile, then pivoted on her heel and sauntered toward the other rooms that opened off the hallway, pausing about halfway down. “What’s this one?”

Ramos stepped behind her, peering over her shoulder. “It’s a storeroom right now. The previous owner left a lot of odds and ends. We piled them all in here.”

Gabrielle nodded slowly. “Interesting.”

This time Emma did roll her eyes.

It took them thirty minutes to survey the first floor, given that every room brought forth new levels of flirtation on Gabrielle’s part. Ramos stayed polite but neutral. Apparently, the man’s acting skills were advanced.

Finally, they were back at the front of the house again. Ramos nodded at the staircase. “Would you like to see the upper floor?”

Gabrielle shook her head. “No, don’t bother. I’ve seen enough for today.” She turned to Emma. “Do you have Mr. Ramos’s number?”

Emma nodded. “Yes, Gabrielle.”

“Good. Then we’ll be in touch.” She gave Ramos one more torrid smile, extending her hand for a languid shake, then sauntered out the front door.

Emma turned back, fighting the impulse to roll her eyes again. “I’ll let you know if she wants to use it.”

“Do that.” Ramos gave her a smile that was just a lip flex. “Have a good day.”

“Oh yeah. Definitely.” She headed down the front steps to open the car door for the waiting Gabrielle. Good days weren’t in the cards just yet.

***

Ray spent the rest of the day pulling up carpet and hauling it to the Dumpster out back. He hadn’t called Kevin yet to fill in more details, but he was pretty sure they’d both buy in if
American Medium
decided to use the house. What choice did they have?

Gabrielle DeVere was a piece of work. Of that, he was absolutely sure. He wasn’t certain whether she was actually coming on to him or whether it was just a reflex that kicked in whenever she was around somebody of the male persuasion. Whatever it was, by the time she left, he felt like he’d been mentally groped.

Emma Shea seemed used to it, though. Ray was guessing she’d be able to get DeVere to commit, at least to a few hours of filming. At four hundred per hour. That could buy a lot of wallboard. Or at least keep the wolf from nipping at the door quite so quickly.

The doorbell rang while he was using a paint scraper to remove some of the rubber matting in the living room.
Shea. Had to be.
Maybe she had some news about DeVere. He brushed off his hands and headed down the hall.

Emma Shea stood on his front gallery wearing the same gray suit and white blouse she’d had on when she’d brought DeVere by in the morning. He found himself wondering just what she’d look like when she was wearing normal clothes. Assuming she ever wore normal clothes, that is. Maybe this suit passed for casual wear in her world. He stepped back to let her in. “Hi, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to let you know Gabrielle decided to do the show here. I’ll have some forms and releases for you to sign in the next couple of days.” She gave him a dry smile. “Four hundred an hour, three-hour minimum, right?”

He nodded. “That’s it. When is this going to happen?”

She walked past him, pausing in the parlor doorway. “I’ll need to do some research on the house and pass it on to Gabrielle. And then we’ll need to do a kind of dry run in advance, probably next week some time.” Another half smile. “And, yes, we’ll pay for that too, but no minimum.”

He felt like rubbing his hands. A quick infusion of cash would be good. “What rooms does she want? I’ll get them cleaned up.”

Shea stepped into the parlor, narrowly avoiding his paint scraper. “Gabrielle liked this room, the parlor, but I’m not sure we’ll use it. More likely the front gallery for the intro. She’ll definitely want the dining room for the séance.”

He frowned. For some reason, the whole séance thing made him feel twitchy. “What will that involve?”

“We set up a table and chairs—I’ll find something if you don’t have one. Gabrielle has the participants hold hands and she tries to contact the spirits.”

Yeah right.
He had a feeling Gabrielle usually succeeded, whether there were spirits around or not. “Who are these participants?”

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