her…
She scurried from the table. “I’m done talking. I have to get back. Frank’s waiting.” She darted out of the restaurant in a blur of motion.
Noah saw nothing of ghosts or the past as he watched her go. He had eyes only for Lara. A mystery within a mystery. And a puzzle he had every intention of solving. The sooner the better.
Lara whipped down the dark and surprisingly empty street, knowing she’d made a fool of herself by mentioning ghosts. God, when would she learn? Her family had never believed her odd experiences during her childhood, and they’d tried. What made her think a man she’d just met might?
Growing up labeled the neighborhood mental case hadn’t helped her attract many friends. Even after she’d suppressed those ghostly voices, when she’d finally convinced herself they’d gone for good, she was never quite sure. Leaving home had been painful because she loved her family, but she’d wanted to leave behind her freakish past to start fresh. Away from home, she’d focused on her future. A degree in hotel management, internships, learning and adding to her experience while striving to attain a new goal. She’d found success and a new beginning.
She’d drifted from place to place until Brownville. The Lady Fine Inn had intrigued her from the first. Ida planned to sell it in a few years, and the place provided Lara with the opportunity to run it from the ground up. An artsy town, nice friends, and even a few attractive, single men who acted interested. All of it made for a bright future.
If she bought the inn, her business would flourish with the incoming tourists. Especially with the town’s fascinating history centered on the infamous love affair between a bank robber and a madam. Her first night in the hotel had been incredible. She hadn’t heard one ghostly voice during her stay. Ida had hired her on the spot. She’d made a true friend in Frank and learned to like the small, artsy town.
Just when she’d thought she’d put the literal ghosts of her past to bed, she’d heard the voice. Proof she’d never be normal. But here in Brownville, she might just fit in. The artistic bunch liked quirkiness. And the voice that spoke to Lara was naughty but not cruel, and gone as much as she was there. Lara had started to think she could make a go of things. She’d be known as a successful business woman, not a crazy lady who thought she heard voices.
Then Noah had to show up, asking her if she was psychic. The beginning of the end. No, no, and no.
She wondered what he might really be after and intended to Google the name Emilio Vala. She knew little about art, but if this artist existed, he’d be on the Internet.
Lara hugged herself, shivering despite the temperate breeze, aware of the strange emptiness of the street. A sudden urgency to return to the inn hit her, and whether she could attribute that to the voice or her own odd instinct, she didn’t much care. She hastened her step. As she raced past the last alleyway before the inn came into view, a hand reached out to grab her.
She shrieked and ran to the Lady Fine, unsure if her imagination played tricks with her or if someone really had been there. On days like these, she wondered if she’d finally gone around the bend. It seemed like no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t outrace misfortune.
Entering the inn, she noticed the thinning crowd. Thank God for small favors.
“Lara, you okay?” Frank took her coat from her. “You look weird.” His eyes narrowed. “Mr. Sexy, he do something to you?”
“Not a thing. And keep your voice down.” She tugged him aside for privacy. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“Anything, honey. You know that.” Frank kissed her on the nose, and she hugged him, glad for the friendship they shared.
“There’s something strange with Noah.” She told Frank about the painting and her likeness to it, but when
She scurried from the table. “I’m done talking. I have to get back. Frank’s waiting.” She darted out of the restaurant in a blur of motion.
Noah saw nothing of ghosts or the past as he watched her go. He had eyes only for Lara. A mystery within a mystery. And a puzzle he had every intention of solving. The sooner the better.
Lara whipped down the dark and surprisingly empty street, knowing she’d made a fool of herself by mentioning ghosts. God, when would she learn? Her family had never believed her odd experiences during her childhood, and they’d tried. What made her think a man she’d just met might?
Growing up labeled the neighborhood mental case hadn’t helped her attract many friends. Even after she’d suppressed those ghostly voices, when she’d finally convinced herself they’d gone for good, she was never quite sure. Leaving home had been painful because she loved her family, but she’d wanted to leave behind her freakish past to start fresh. Away from home, she’d focused on her future. A degree in hotel management, internships, learning and adding to her experience while striving to attain a new goal. She’d found success and a new beginning.
She’d drifted from place to place until Brownville. The Lady Fine Inn had intrigued her from the first. Ida planned to sell it in a few years, and the place provided Lara with the opportunity to run it from the ground up. An artsy town, nice friends, and even a few attractive, single men who acted interested. All of it made for a bright future.
If she bought the inn, her business would flourish with the incoming tourists. Especially with the town’s fascinating history centered on the infamous love affair between a bank robber and a madam. Her first night in the hotel had been incredible. She hadn’t heard one ghostly voice during her stay. Ida had hired her on the spot. She’d made a true friend in Frank and learned to like the small, artsy town.
Just when she’d thought she’d put the literal ghosts of her past to bed, she’d heard the voice. Proof she’d never be normal. But here in Brownville, she might just fit in. The artistic bunch liked quirkiness. And the voice that spoke to Lara was naughty but not cruel, and gone as much as she was there. Lara had started to think she could make a go of things. She’d be known as a successful business woman, not a crazy lady who thought she heard voices.
Then Noah had to show up, asking her if she was psychic. The beginning of the end. No, no, and no.
She wondered what he might really be after and intended to Google the name Emilio Vala. She knew little about art, but if this artist existed, he’d be on the Internet.
Lara hugged herself, shivering despite the temperate breeze, aware of the strange emptiness of the street. A sudden urgency to return to the inn hit her, and whether she could attribute that to the voice or her own odd instinct, she didn’t much care. She hastened her step. As she raced past the last alleyway before the inn came into view, a hand reached out to grab her.
She shrieked and ran to the Lady Fine, unsure if her imagination played tricks with her or if someone really had been there. On days like these, she wondered if she’d finally gone around the bend. It seemed like no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t outrace misfortune.
Entering the inn, she noticed the thinning crowd. Thank God for small favors.
“Lara, you okay?” Frank took her coat from her. “You look weird.” His eyes narrowed. “Mr. Sexy, he do something to you?”
“Not a thing. And keep your voice down.” She tugged him aside for privacy. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“Anything, honey. You know that.” Frank kissed her on the nose, and she hugged him, glad for the friendship they shared.
“There’s something strange with Noah.” She told Frank about the painting and her likeness to it, but when
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