Perchance to Dream Box Set

A Haunted Love-5

In the morning I know he’s gone before I even open my eyes. The bed is empty beside me, my arms wrapped around nothing but his pillow. The sheets smell old and unused as I stretch myself awake. He took the lamp with him—it’s not on the table between the chairs—and cleaned out the fireplace. There are no ashes left, no wood chips, nothing to suggest it had blazed the night before. My clothes are where I dropped them on the floor but his are gone. He could have at least woken me up before he left. I didn’t even get his number.

But he works at the glasshouse. I’ll stop by there on my lunch break and say hi, flirt some more, see if I can convince him to stay at my place tonight. He’s not getting away so fast.

I dress in my rumpled costume and wish I could take a shower. My clothes feel too loose like they always do when I wear them two days in a row. I run my hands through my hair, hoping the curls aren’t too out of control today. For a minute I think the door won’t open—didn’t David have a key?—but the knob turns easily in my hand, squeaking a little as if unused. I wish there was some way to lock it, but I can’t figure out how so I pull it shut as tight as I can, careful not to slam it.

In the sunlight slanting through the window, the door’s wood looks brittle, the paint cracking, the jamb almost pried free from the wall. I hadn’t noticed it was in such bad shape last night. I should mention it to Marie, get maintenance up here—it needs some work.

I hurry down the spiral staircase, tucking my shirt into my breeches as I take the steps two at a time, but near the bottom I have to hold onto the railing and slow down…this thing is dangerous. It lurches beneath my weight as I vault over the security rope someone’s placed across the last few steps. Jesus, that thing’s scary. I lace up my breeches and am halfway across the sitting room when someone calls my name.

“Nick!”

I turn to find Angela standing there in her pretty green gown, a white apron tied around her corseted waist so she doesn’t get dirty as she sets up the inn. I’m probably running late and need to be at the stables by quarter to eight, but maybe she’s seen David. Slowing down, I pivot on one foot. “Hey, Angie. You know that guy who works with the glass smith?”

Angela puts her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes. “How the hell did you get in here? You about scared the s**t out of me! All that clomping around upstairs—I was starting to think there’s something to those ghost stories you guys make up. We’re not even open yet.”

I’m not about to mention I slept up there, given her outburst, so I shrug off her question. “You don’t know the guy? Long hair in a ponytail? Sexy eyes?”

“I’ve seen him,” Angela says, wary. “He still upstairs?”

She knows I like boys, she thinks it’s cute, but the way she’s looking at me says I scared her more than she let on and now she knows there’s nothing to be afraid of, now she knows it was only me, she’s pissed all to hell. “Don’t tell me…God, you guys weren’t getting it on in one of our rooms, were you? That’s disgusting.”

“No, we weren’t.” But what’s so disgusting about it? “Did you see him this morning?”

“No.” Pointing at the door, she adds, “Now get out before you get me in trouble. No one’s supposed to be in here until we open, not even employees unless you work here, and you don’t.”

No, really? I didn’t know.

I don’t move at first—I want to find out what she knows about David—but she crosses the room, dress rustling like dead leaves, and with her hands on my back she steers me toward the foyer. “Come on, Nick, I ain’t playing around. You’re going to get me fired.”

At the door, I hold onto the jamb before she can shove me outside. “If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him.”

“If I see him,” she agrees. “Now get.”

Outside, I blink in the bright sunlight and stretch again. A few tourists already stroll down the cobbled street, which means the first bus has already made its run. I can’t miss it again tonight. I want to jog down to the glasshouse now, see if David is there, ask him why he let me sleep when he knew I had to get up and see if maybe he wants to do something for lunch. But as I pass the stables I see a few kids already waiting for me to open up and I hear the horses inside, carrying on because they’re up and they hear the kids and they’re hungry.

I better get to work. I’ll stop in the glasshouse on my lunch break.