Page 28 of My Blind Date is a Ghost

“That sounds, great,” I say.

“Just have a seat anywhere and I’ll join you,” she says.

I pat my skirt and realize I don’t have any money. “Oh. I don’t have my pocket with me.”

Olivia giggles. “You mean your purse?”

I give a tight smile in response. I suppose she’s right. I have noticed that, nowadays, more women carry a small bag with them with all their essentials. It seems rather dangerous to me. Anyone could just take the bag from them, right? I prefer how I used to tie my pocket around my waist and then access it from slits hidden within the folds in my skirt. But I noticed that the skirts I’ve been wearing don’t have pockets or slits in them. I suppose I’ll have to get a purse of my own, even as impractical as one is.

“No problem. I just send Beverly a bill each month. She’s in here like every day.”

“I believe it,” I say with a thankful nod as I make my way over to a booth near the windows.

I’ve only just sat down when I see Beckett drive by. I don’t know why, but I hide my face behind my hand. I’m sure he would still recognize me if he were looking for me. When I’m sure he’s gone, I shake my head at my foolishness. Why did I lash out like that? Beckett only wants to help me, protect me. It is his job after all. But no, I can’t feel guilty. I asked him to stop, and he needs to abide by my wishes. It’s my life after all, not his.

I look up when I see the lightbulb over me flicker. Am I doing that? What even happened back there? How did I do that? I’m sure it was me. It happened when I got upset. And I’ve noticed it happening before, though not as dramatically. I certainly never blew anything up before. I was able to do something similar when I was still a ghost. I could cause lights and even phones to flicker when I directed enough energy toward them. But why would I still have that ability while I am alive? Am I even alive? Is it possible that I’m still dead only much more…physical. I let out a small groan at the thought. The idea of me being still a ghost—in any way—makes me a bit nauseous.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Olivia says as she brings over a tray of coffees and pastries for us and sits across from me.

“It’s no problem,” I say. “This is too kind. Thank you.” I hold the hot coffee cup in my hand, feeling the warmth in my fingers. I’m not a ghost. I’m not dead. I’m very much alive. I was dead for two hundred years and never felt anything like this. I’m just being paranoid.

“I was glad to see you walk in,” Olivia says. “We haven’t had much of a chance to get to know each other.”

“I’m almost always at The Book Coven,” I say. “You can stop by any time.”

“Beverly is so nice,” she says. “And I owe her so much for fixing me up with Adrian. But… Well, I don’t know if I should be seen at The Book Coven too much.”

I give a slow nod as I sip my coffee. “You are engaged to the Alpha.”

“Yeah,” she says. “Wolves and witches, they don’t always mix, you know?”

I shrug and use a fork to cut into my soft Danish. “It wasn’t always like that.”

“Maybe,” she says. “But it’s been this way for as long as anyone remembers, even the local vampires.”

“Hmm.” I hope she’s wrong about that. Surely there are vampires around who were alive when I was still alive. Perhaps they all moved on and the only vampires living here are ones who moved in after I died. I wonder if there is anyone else alive who would remember me. It would be wonderful to see even one familiar face.

“Do you know what caused the rift between the witches and werewolves?” I ask.

“Oh, I don’t know much about it,” she says. “I’m trying to get more informed about wolf lore and stuff. Apparently, an Alpha’s wife is supposed to be like…the vice president of wolf stuff, so I need to learn all this, but there’s just so much. And then there’s, like, just legends, stuff that may or may not be true. It’s a lot.”

“I’m sure. But you are certainly up to the task. You wouldn’t be Adrian’s soulmate if you weren’t, right?”

“I mean, I guess,” she says, picking at her food with her fork. “It’s just such a crazy responsibility. I really don’t know why anyone—Adrian, the goddess, Beverly—thinks I’m the person best suited for the job.”

“You’re the person best suited for Adrian,” I say, reaching over and putting my hand on hers. “The position is just a bonus.”

“Yeah,” she says. “I guess you’re right. Are you a wise witch like Beverly?”

I scoff. “Hardly.”

“What are you then?” she asks brazenly. “You’re no vampire or werewolf, that much is clear. And you don’t have white hair like Parker, so I guess you aren’t a zombie.”

“I’m not anything, really,” I say, taking my hand back and holding my coffee cup again. The warmth helps ground me.

She shrugs. “Nothing wrong with that. I sort of miss the days when I was just Olivia, and not Olivia the pack Alpha’s mate.”

“I’m sure you’ll get more comfortable as time goes on.” My heart hitches at the thought of time. Time passing. Time ending. How much time do I have? I shake my head to stop thinking about it. “Anyway, I heard the feud between the wolves and the witches goes back a long way, to a murder?”

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