Page 7 of Fang Girl

Several. I'll tell you tomorrow. But what about you? What changed?

I thought about my ghost "office hours" and boundaries.Learned to set limits. Can't help everyone all the time.

Mysterious AND wise. You're going to be dangerous to my reputation.

Your reputation?

As the dark, brooding artist type.

I laughed.Don't worry. Your secret optimism is safe with me.

I have other secrets you might like better.

My heart skipped.Oh?

Tomorrow. But for now... sweet dreams, Ari.

Sweet dreams, Victor.

I hugged my phone to my chest, knowing sleep was even further away now. But for once, I didn't mind being awake in the dark hours. The ghosts were quieter than usual, as if they too were caught up in the romance of it all.

Or maybe they were just giving me space to dream about tomorrow.

***

The next day was a whirlwind, as I tried to pay attention in classes. Afterward, I rushed over to do my office hours at the cemetery, then home to pull on my dress, a pretty dark navy strapless with a matching jacket. I’d picked it up at a second hand store, thinking I’d never have someplace nice to wear it. I was glad Kylie had talked me into it.

As I stepped out of my Uber at the address, my heart raced.

The short, bricked restaurant was surrounded by gardens, and the only other building in the area was a large hotel that loomed behind it. The path to the door glowed with soft ground lights, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

The restaurant was dark, seeming closed, with only two men waiting outside—one in a suit, one in a waiter's uniform. Neither were Victor.

“Miss Jones?” the waiter said, striding forward. “This way.”

I followed the man into the restaurant, and all the way to the back.

Victor stood waiting, looking devastating in dark jeans and a fitted black shirt. His green eyes seemed to glow in the dim light. He smiled when he saw me, and I felt my cheeks warm.

"You look beautiful," he said, taking my hand and leading me to the table.

The restaurant was dimly lit and intimate. I looked around, seeing neither patrons nor, even more oddly, ghosts. “Are we alone?”

Victor smiled. “I didn’t think we’d want the attention.”

“Sure,” I said. It made sense, he was a star, and would naturally have fans and reporters following him everywhere. But a little part of me worried that it was because he didn’t want to be seen with Creepy Ari. I pushed that thought down. We weren’t in high school anymore.

He pulled out my chair and gestured for me to sit down. Then he settled in across from me. We both looked at each other awkwardly for a minute, then the waiter came to take our order.

“Choose whatever you’d like,” Victor said, as he poured a glass of red wine for himself. “Do you like red?”

I nodded, and Victor poured one for me as well. I gave the waiter my order and he headed back toward the kitchen. “Don’t you want anything?”

“I ordered already,” Victor said with a disarming smile.

Everything about him seemed designed to draw you in, to make you want to stare, to make you forget how to breathe. I didn’t think I could deny him anything at this point just like I’d said yes easily to his kiss.

I shook myself, trying to focus on what he was saying, instead of fangirling.

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