Page 79 of Ghosted
Mr. Chase takes center stage again, this time holding a clipboard with a thick sheaf of paper clipped to it. “Our last order of business tonight is this petition. As we all know, Mr. Beauhurst is raising rent on our entire block of buildings. While I believe an increase is fair to keep up with the market, the percentage at which he’s raising rates is uncalled for. It will push many of our businesses out over time because very few of us can afford it. So, I created this petition to ask Mr. Beauhurst to lower the rate of increase to a more manageable level. Are there any questions?”
Everyone was nodding along while Mr. Chase spoke, and I feel a surge of gratitude that we aren’t the only ones struggling and that maybe we can all band together and make a difference. Sarah raises her hand and says, “Where do I sign?”
The meeting wraps up quickly afterward, and soon enough, we’re all helping to drag our chairs through the labyrinth of shelves toward the stock room. I brush shoulders with Misha in the cramped stock room and cringe away before he can look over his shoulder and see who he bumped into.
I walk hurriedly through the shelves, trying to get out of the store before Misha catches up with me. I know I told Ivan Iwould talk to Misha soon, but that doesn’t have to mean today, right? I’ve had enough inquisition into my Gift for one day.
Just when I see Wren and Dean waiting for me by the door, I hear, “Rae! Wait up!” behind me.
My shoulders kiss my ears, and I turn slowly. Misha holds a hand to me with Julian right behind him. I sigh, letting my shoulders drop. It’ll be just like ripping off a Band-Aid. Too bad I always leave mine on until they eventually peel off into a soggy beige heap on my shower floor.
“Walk with me?” Misha asks when they catch up.
“Sure. But Wren will have to come too.” I gesture to the scowling gargoyle in question, looking like she’s trying to ward off the evil that is Julian.
“Oh, that’s fine. Wren and I will stay to chat for a bit, and then we’ll catch up with you guys,” Julian says, a much too pleased smile playing over his face. Then, he gently nudges me aside and practically skips toward Wren, whose scowl deepens so much it looks painful.
Misha and I laugh after him, and I feel my heart lighten a bit. I’m not great with conflict, and I always want to shrivel up when I know someone is mad at me.
“Fifty bucks says they’re going to end up married with angry little babies,” Misha says, looking after them.
I snort. “You’re on. Never gonna happen.”
We head down the shelves and pass Wren, who looks at me like I just made it to first place on her shit-list. Ah well, I’ve been there before. Julian is yammering on about various frosting piping tips and the merits of each one, talking so quickly, he barely seems to breathe. Misha leads me out into the brisk November air, Dean trailing far enough behind to give us privacy, but close enough that I know he’s there.
We start walking down the street toward The Veil and Brewed Awakening, the cold air nipping at our noses. “So,” I say when I can’t take his silence anymore, kicking a stone out of the way with the toe of my boot. “What’s up?”
I look up at Misha who studies me with a pensive expression screwing up his handsome face. “You really can see ghosts?” he finally asks.
I nod tiredly. “Yeah. I really can.”
Here we go again.
“And I take it this is a secret you’ve been holding onto your whole life that you didn’t want revealed any time soon?”
“Yup,” I say shortly, feeling some of the anger return from the night of the ball.
Misha winces, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be the one to expose your secret. I’m usually pretty sensitive to that. It’s no excuse, but I was doubly freaked out by finding out it was you all along, and I—I could tell Ivan was there. I didn’t want to believe it, but I could feel him.”
He’s visibly shaken, so I reach out and wrap an arm around his waist. His arm drops over my shoulders, and I can feel the tension ebb out of him. I take a deep inhale and offer, “I’m sorry for lying. When you started telling me about your past, I should have stopped you. I felt stuck, and I just wanted to help you,” I say quietly.
He squeezes my shoulders in a sort of hug and sighs. “No, I get it. I guess I should have figured that whoever was behind the curtain was potentially someone I knew. I wasn’t thinking, and it wasn’t fair of me to treat you like that when I found out. I was embarrassed, and I took it out on you.”
I shake my head. “You have nothing to be embarrassedabout. Trauma should only be embarrassing for the people who caused it, not the people who suffered it. You were just a kid. You should have had a better adult in your corner. I thought it was honorable that you wanted to try to make amends with him, even though he doesn’t deserve it.”
“To be honest, it’s more about me than him. I don’t want to live out the rest of my life regretting what I said to him. I don’t know. I heard someone say that forgiveness is more for you than for the person you’re forgiving. I need that peace.”
“Well, if you’re up for it, we can try to find it for you,” I offer. “Your uncle actually came back to talk to me. He wants to try to make amends, too.” I gloss over the whole aggressive shoulder grab thing because it isn’t Misha’s fault, and I don’t want him to carry any extra guilt.
“Yeah?”
I nod. “Yeah. The first time I made contact was a little rough because he didn’t want to come through. And I kind of forced him,” I say, ducking my head. “So that’s why he was so resistant. This time should be smoother since he wants to come forward.”
“Wow, I bet he was pissed. Uncle Ivan is an old mule; any time he’s forced into something, he resists tenfold.”
I clear my throat as we slow to a stop in front of The Veil. “Yeah, I got that impression. Do you want to meet after work tomorrow?”
“Sure. Your place?” He points up towards my apartment.
