Page 9 of Ghost

“Alright, Rae,” Pop said, holding out his hand. “You’ve passed. The job is yours if you want it.”

“Yes. I want it,” I answered quickly. What I really meant was that I needed it because that was the truth.

Catching my relief, Pop smiled gently. “Welcome to the family, Rae.”

My teeth sank into my lip as the implication washed over me.

Family.

I glanced around the room again, seeing it through a different lens. That’s exactly what these people were: a family, and this was their home.

Emotions welled up in my chest. It had been a while since I had felt like a part of one.

“Thank you,” I told him, truly meaning it.

“Family takes care of its own,” Banner added, his tone holding an edge of warning. I nodded ‘cause I got it. This place and these people were a part of him.

“You won't regret it, I promise.” I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but I knew deep in my belly that things were about to change for the better.

“Come on then. I’ll take you to Ghost's place,” Pop said, thumbing over his shoulder toward the door.

“Ghost?” My nose scrunched while I replayed the last forty-five minutes. I didn’t remember him mentioning anyone with a nickname like that.

Turning, he offered me a grin but didn’t answer my question.

Whatever.

I shrugged my shoulders and kept following him out of the door. It didn’t matter, I needed the job.

My boots crunched against the gravel as I followed him to the warehouse across the lot.

The words Portafino’s Meat Packing were barely visible across the worn red brick.

“It’s not a processing plant anymore,” he explained. “We bought it a few years back. Most of the first floor is open warehouse space, except for Sophia’s flower shop that takes up the corner there.” He gestured to the opposite corner where a pink sign hung.

“Ghost and Payton live up there.” He pointed to a large iron staircase tucked close to the side of the building.

“I see.” Admittedly, I found it comforting that I’d be close to the clubhouse.

“This is just temporary, you understand?” Pop's voice pulled me back to the moment.

“Crystal.” I nodded.

Nothing had ever been permanent in my life anyway.

I followed him up the steps and watched as he punched in a code on a sophisticated lock. After the machine beeped, he inserted a key and pushed open the door. It seemed like overkill to me, but who was I to judge.

“Make yourself at home,” Pop said, motioning me inside.

As I stepped into the space, I took in every detail. The floors had been refinished, the wood dark and rich. The walls were lined with bookshelves that were filled with books, indicating the man who lived there liked to read. A pool table dominated the center of the room, and lastly, numerous photos of a tiny baby girl hung from the walls and littered the room in coordinating frames.

I was impressed by how perfectly organized everything seemed to be. The place was immaculate, there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere.

“Ghost likes things... a certain way. He’s particular.” Pop ran a hand along the mahogany bar top that stretched around the far wall of the living room.

“You don’t say.” I looked at him with wide eyes and he chuckled.

“Kitchen’s through there.” Pop nodded toward an archway. “I had the prospects stock it for you. If you need something that’s not here, let one of us know.”

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