Part 2 (1/2)
And let me say that again with emphasis. Mornings suck. Not so much mornings at Mom's house. Those I wake up to the smells of bacon, eggs, b.u.t.tery biscuits (mmmmmmm), fresh-squeezed orange juice and coffee.
Just mornings in general--especially the ones where I'm not at the hospital and expected to do something I really didn't want to do. I did not want to look for Shadow People, mean people or even imaginary people. So I lay there in the bed with the missing-head-Mary and the over-stuffed bear in the chair with the pillow over my head.
You know how hard it is to try and ignore bacon and eggs? Unless you're a vegetarian, it's next to impossible.
Especially when your friend/manager/magical MacGyver shows up with hot chocolate.
”Oh, come on, Zoe,” she finally said after I kept the pillow tight over my head. ”The restaurant doesn't open for another four hours. If you don't get in there now you'll miss your opportunity.”
No.
”Chicken s.h.i.+t.”
Bock. Bock.
”Zo-eeeeeeeee.”
Wow. She whines better than me.
”Wow--she's not so tough looking from this angle.”
Blink.
Wait. Hold the phone. That wasn't Rhonda's voice. That was a man's voice.
MAN!! In my room!!
I spun around on the bed--and let me tell you, John Woo would have been proud 'cause I nearly came up off the bed in slow motion as I turned--and landed with my elbows behind me to see Dags McConnell standing just behind Rhonda.
I was suddenly very glad I'd gone to sleep in my plaid loungers and not commando. I mean--a few seconds ago I'd had my bare a.s.s in Rhonda's face with my head buried, ostridge style.
Wait--is that how you spell that?
Looks weird.
Rhonda had her arms crossed over her chest. She also had her hair back in a pony-tail and wore dark jeans (duh) and a black sweater with a high collar. Looked kinda fuzzy and soft.
I reached out to touch it.
She pulled back--and not from anger--but from actual fear.
We both realized what had just happened at the same time and looked at each other. She'd been afraid I would suck on her soul again--and all I'd wanted was to touch the fuzzy.
”Zoe--I--”
I shook my head and waved my hand, hoping she caught the It's all right I meant in the gesture. Man, being voiceless sucked. Because at that moment Mr. Bartender-man was over near the big bear and bent over it, his hand reaching out to my dry-erase board I'd propped there before turning in.
I pointed to him and glared at Rhonda with my eyebrows up. Why is he here? I demanded with my eyes.
”Nona,” Rhonda said.
Okay. That explained a whole lot. Well--not really. I knitted by eyebrows together and made the very obvious, universal gesture for what the h.e.l.l for?
Mr. Bartender-man was back at the bed. ”Your mom left a message on my voice-mail. She was apologizing for you--for what happened--”
I pursed my lips at him. Rhonda moved past him and grabbed my board. She tossed it at me and I caught it one-handed. Not on purpose, but it looked cool. I scribbled on it.
APOLOGIZE 4 WHAT? UR THE PERV.
He looked down. His hair wasn't in a pony-tail today and was loose about his shoulders. He was dressed in a black leather pea-coat and jeans, a silver bracelet on his left wrist. ”I explained to her that it wasn't your fault. We didn't exactly have the stall locked.”
”Did you realize who you were s.h.a.gging in the bathroom?” Rhonda piped up.
”I knew about her grandfather, yeah. But that's what I'm paid to do--dig up intel on what I refer to as the unconventional conventional.”
Rhonda and I looked at each other and she looked back at him with the biggest, dumbest grin I'd ever seen on her face. Oh good grief. Was that a crush I saw coming? ”We thought you were a bartender and part-time orderly.”
”That too,” he looked at me. ”I honestly thought you were dead. That's a very--unusual--ability you have there. You always had it?”
Erase. Scribble. LONG STORY. NEVERMIND.
Rhonda spoke up. ”Have you always had the ability to see spirits? I mean, you saw Zoe at the bar that day, right?”
He looked at me and then back to Rhonda. I wasn't sure if he was excited or frightened. His eyes looked darker though--I could have sworn they were gray? ”I saw her the moment she came in. I also knew Daniel couldn't see her. He comes in once or twice a week, has a coffee or a beer. We talk. Normal stuff, really. I was working at the bar because of a report of ghosts,” he smiled. ”I thought Zoe was that ghost until I realized she was paying close attention to the cop. And then I realized she came in with him.”
I erased and scribbled. WHY R U AT HOSPITAL?
”I was hired to keep an eye on the Chief of Surgery, Dr. Allard Bonville.”
I erased my board and scribbled. BY WHO?
”You mean whom?”
Scribble. a.s.s WIPE.
He smiled, undeterred. And then he shrugged. ”I don't know. I get all my freelance work through a secured site I set up a few months back when I moved here from Savannah.”
Rhonda looked back at me again and then took a step toward him. ”You set up a secured ftp for jobs? How did you do that? Did you use standard applications or was this something you wrote on your own? How do your clients contact you--or how do they pay you?”
He grinned. ”Well, first off I don't use FTP, I use MTP, which is Managed File Transfers. I first learned about it through a company called Communication Commerce, and then I learned they were part of a larger conglomerate and I like bailed as fast as I could. But I set up my own secured server using the MTP transfers and then I have my own secure bulletin board.”
It was about that minute my brain tuned out. It was pretty sure it wouldn't understand any of what was said, much of it becoming the standard Charlie Brown adult speak of ”wonk, wonk, wonk-wonk” and well-- But I did watch them for a few seconds. They were almost exactly the same height, their hair was close in color, though Rhonda's had the matt-black look of a spray painted car. His was s.h.i.+ny and healthy. They were both kinda gothy-emo-techno-babbly.
Hum. Was she crus.h.i.+ng?
Not if I could help it. Did not want my best friend involved with some bathroom-stall-romance-guy. Even if he could see ghosts.
Grrrr.
No one noticed as I slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I turned the hot on full-blast and turned to face some pale, strange woman in the mirror.