Read Online Melody Bittersweet and The Girls' Ghostbusting Agency: A laugh out loud romantic comedy of Love, Life and ... Ghosts? by Kitty French - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kitty French
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unlike Laurence Llewelyn Bowen’s affected do, but in truth Leo wears it well. Mother Nature certainly looked kindly into his cradle; he’s exotic and strong-featured, gilded with a charisma that assures the camera loves him, as do his growing army of female fans, or his ‘Darklings,’ as they’ve self-styled themselves on Twitter.
‘You’re going to need more than luck, Melody.’
‘Is that so?’ I load my words with a sigh, a ‘been there, done that, don’t bore me with your crap’ sigh to ensure he knows that I’m not in the least bit bothered by his opinion.
Dropping into the magenta swivel chair opposite me, he slides my card back into his top pocket and nods.
‘Look, I get it,’ he murmurs, slouching casually. ‘You’re not the first chancer to see what I have and want it for yourself.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Your ego really does know no bounds, does it?’
‘My ego? You bulldoze your way into my case and tell my client that you’re better than me, and then you tell me that my ego is the problem here?’
Oh, that rattled him a bit. I lean back in my chair, equally slouchy, and meet his gaze head on. ‘Look, I get it. You’re used to being the only kid on the block and you’re scared of the competition.’
Silence reigns for a moment as we regard each other across the expanse of the wooden desk. We know each other’s capabilities and weaknesses pretty well, but we’ve never been out-and-out adversaries like this before. A nostalgic part of my brain likes to think that somewhere deep inside he still holds me in affection, because a sliver of my heart will be forever his. It’s a small, manageable sliver though, not enough to prevent me from living my life or, please God, from one day loving a normal man without an ego the size of the moon. As it stands we are old lovers and new business rivals, and he is clearly here to try to psyche me out.
‘If you give me your key to Scarborough’s house, we’ll say no more about it.’ A small, consolatory smile tips his mouth at one edge, as if he’s offering me a good deal. He reminds me of a vampire trying to glamour me, and I can well see how he could charm people into letting him into their homes before he sucks their jugular dry for the fun of it. He has always had a Svengali-like quality, and for a good chunk of my life I was a willing follower in his cult. Not anymore though, sadly for him. It’s hard to keep your rose-tinted, handmaiden glasses on when your skipper readily discards you for the bright lights and temptation of fame and fortune.
‘Not a prayer,’ I laugh. ‘Scarborough gave me the key to that house fair and square. You do your thing, and I’ll do mine. I’ll try and stay out of your hair, if that helps.’ I pointedly flick my eyes over his shiny waves.
‘It doesn’t.’
I shrug. ‘Then I guess we’re at an impasse.’
He casts his dark eyes around the office. ‘Is this whole thing your idea of revenge?’
He really is an ego on legs. ‘Leo, I hate to break it to you, but I’m over you. I have been for a long time, so no, hard as this might be for you to believe, my business venture has diddly-squat to do with you.’ I pause, and then amend my sentence to piss him off. ‘Unless you count the fact that we’re now rivals.’
He narrows his eyes at me, and his lip curls as if a hundred derisive thoughts are running amok in his head. No doubt they are, but he keeps them inside for now and settles for shoving his chair back with a flourish as he stands.
‘Fine. Have it your own way.’
I nod, standing too with my arms folded and my chin jutted at a jaunty angle in challenge. ‘Thank you. I will.’
Our eyes clash, and for a second I fear I might give in and let him suck my jugular.
‘Then may the best man win.’
‘Or woman,’ I say sweetly, throwing him a wink and a smile as he takes his theatrical leave. I stare at the closed door for a few seconds after he’s gone. As I listen to his angry
‘You’re going to need more than luck, Melody.’
‘Is that so?’ I load my words with a sigh, a ‘been there, done that, don’t bore me with your crap’ sigh to ensure he knows that I’m not in the least bit bothered by his opinion.
Dropping into the magenta swivel chair opposite me, he slides my card back into his top pocket and nods.
‘Look, I get it,’ he murmurs, slouching casually. ‘You’re not the first chancer to see what I have and want it for yourself.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Your ego really does know no bounds, does it?’
‘My ego? You bulldoze your way into my case and tell my client that you’re better than me, and then you tell me that my ego is the problem here?’
Oh, that rattled him a bit. I lean back in my chair, equally slouchy, and meet his gaze head on. ‘Look, I get it. You’re used to being the only kid on the block and you’re scared of the competition.’
Silence reigns for a moment as we regard each other across the expanse of the wooden desk. We know each other’s capabilities and weaknesses pretty well, but we’ve never been out-and-out adversaries like this before. A nostalgic part of my brain likes to think that somewhere deep inside he still holds me in affection, because a sliver of my heart will be forever his. It’s a small, manageable sliver though, not enough to prevent me from living my life or, please God, from one day loving a normal man without an ego the size of the moon. As it stands we are old lovers and new business rivals, and he is clearly here to try to psyche me out.
‘If you give me your key to Scarborough’s house, we’ll say no more about it.’ A small, consolatory smile tips his mouth at one edge, as if he’s offering me a good deal. He reminds me of a vampire trying to glamour me, and I can well see how he could charm people into letting him into their homes before he sucks their jugular dry for the fun of it. He has always had a Svengali-like quality, and for a good chunk of my life I was a willing follower in his cult. Not anymore though, sadly for him. It’s hard to keep your rose-tinted, handmaiden glasses on when your skipper readily discards you for the bright lights and temptation of fame and fortune.
‘Not a prayer,’ I laugh. ‘Scarborough gave me the key to that house fair and square. You do your thing, and I’ll do mine. I’ll try and stay out of your hair, if that helps.’ I pointedly flick my eyes over his shiny waves.
‘It doesn’t.’
I shrug. ‘Then I guess we’re at an impasse.’
He casts his dark eyes around the office. ‘Is this whole thing your idea of revenge?’
He really is an ego on legs. ‘Leo, I hate to break it to you, but I’m over you. I have been for a long time, so no, hard as this might be for you to believe, my business venture has diddly-squat to do with you.’ I pause, and then amend my sentence to piss him off. ‘Unless you count the fact that we’re now rivals.’
He narrows his eyes at me, and his lip curls as if a hundred derisive thoughts are running amok in his head. No doubt they are, but he keeps them inside for now and settles for shoving his chair back with a flourish as he stands.
‘Fine. Have it your own way.’
I nod, standing too with my arms folded and my chin jutted at a jaunty angle in challenge. ‘Thank you. I will.’
Our eyes clash, and for a second I fear I might give in and let him suck my jugular.
‘Then may the best man win.’
‘Or woman,’ I say sweetly, throwing him a wink and a smile as he takes his theatrical leave. I stare at the closed door for a few seconds after he’s gone. As I listen to his angry
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