Page 46 of Ghostlighted
As Felicia and I watched Liam drive away, somebody cleared their throat.
“Is this a bad time?”
I realized that the people Liam had barreled past on his way to Carson’s car—a woman with silvering blond hair, a man, also blond, but without the silver, who was probably a decade or so younger, and a pre-teen girl whose round face and wide blue eyes indicated a relationship to both adults, even though her hair was dark brown and curly—were still standing on the sidewalk, all smiling tentatively at us. The woman was the one who had spoken.
I sighed. “That depends, I suppose.” I forced a smile. “What can I do for you?”
“Hi!” The girl waved enthusiastically. “I’m Jillie Vlahos and this is my mom, Bernadette, and my uncle, Dominik.” She blinked up at me. “Could we please, please,pleasesee your house?”
“My house?” I glanced up the walk at the porch. “Why? If somebody told you it’s for sale, they’ve misled you.”
“Jillie.” Bernadette looked down at her daughter. “Don’t you think we should tell him who we are first?”
Jillie’s brows knotted in obvious confusion. “I just did.”
“You told him ournames.”
“Yes.” She glanced between Bernadette and me, clearly confused.
“So why would he know them?”
“But… but this is a small town. Everyone always knows everything about everybody else.”
Dominik chuckled and tugged a lock of Jillie’s hair. “That’s only true on those shows you watch.” He turned his smile on me, and although his dimples were cute, he didn’t pack near Ricky’s wattage. “She’s a big fan of Hallmark movies.” He held out his hand. “We’re the new owners of Jenkins House. Bernadette’s handling the food and I’ll be managing the place.”
“Jenkins House? Oh! The B & B.” I shook his hand. “You must be who Taryn was meeting with on Wednesday. Taking over from your aunt and uncle, right?”
Jillie gestured to me with both hands. “See? Everyone knowseverything.”
I laughed and shook Bernadette’s hand too. “Not quite. Taryn’s one of my closest friends, and she was on her way to meet you when I last saw her. She didn’t tell me your names, only that the place was changing hands. She’s really not in the habit of disclosing her clients’ personal information. I’m Maz Amani.” I winked at Jillie. “But you probably already knew that.”
Felicia thrust her hand out. “And I’m Felicia Vargas.”
“Vargas?” Bernadette’s gaze sharpened. “Of Taqueria Vargas?”
Felicia nodded as she made the rounds of handshakes. “My family owns it, yes.”
“Are you related to Sofia Vargas, then?” Dominik asked.
“She’s my aunt.”
“Well,ouraunt told us thatyouraunt’s tres leches cake is something special, and that Bernadette needs to beg a lesson from her. Could you introduce us?”
Felicia shared a glance with me. “I— I’d be glad to, and I’m sure she’d be happy to give you some tips, but she’s not at home right now. Maybe next week?”
Dominik nodded affably. “No hurry. We’ve got some work to do before we open. Figure out how to make the place our own, you know?”
“Why did you want to see my house?” I asked.
Since Jillie was staring at the house, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide, Bernadette answered. “Because of Oren Buckley, of course. He did such beautiful work on Jenkins House that when we found out he lived here, we really wanted to see it.”
At that moment, I was glad that Avi had bugged out on me. As much as I’d have appreciated his commentary on Liam’s attitude, I doubted he was quite ready to hear strangers flinging Oren’s name around, talking about himliving herewhen he’d never had a chance to move in.
“I’d be happy to arrange that, but”—I gestured to my shirt—“I’m a little too damp for comfort right now, and I need to head to work shortly. Maybe tonight?”
“Maz.” Felicia tugged on my T-shirt hem. “I forgot to tell you that Ricky was hoping you’d have dinner with him tonight.”
I blinked. “He was? He didn’t text me.”
