Ghost of a Chance Read online

  Ryan rolled his eyes. “So what did you want to talk to me about?” he prompted.

  "Oh. Yes. Sorry. What makes you so sure your young man is straight?"

  "Jesus, can you just let it drop?” He cleaned off the razor and drew it across his cheek. “If it's meant to be, it'll happen. Okay? If anything, you're making things worse."

  "That, my dear boy, is just the sort of attitude that caused the previous Earl to live a long, lonely life. He's quite concerned about you, by the way. Overdeveloped sense of responsibility, that one."

  "Wait, you mean the one that just died? I mean ... passed away?” Ryan didn't stop shaving, but he did watch Percy in the mirror.

  "Yes. Jonathan. He's worried about you. He's the one that appeared at the foot of your bed the other night. Of course I don't think he meant to send you off to James’ bed. He was just making sure Maxim left you in peace."

  "How many of you are there?” he asked, gaping at the spectral figure.

  "Oh, quite a few,” Percy replied.

  "Why don't you move on?"

  "We all have our own reasons, of course. Jonathan feels as if he abandoned you to your fate. He'll likely move on once you're well settled. Or perhaps once you've...” He made a face like he'd just bitten into a lemon. “Bred."

  Ryan sighed and washed off his razor again, starting on his jawline. “You know, before all this I had absolutely no plans to ever have kids."

  Just then the bathroom window flew open and a cold breeze circled around the room.

  "Calm down, won't you? He said before this,” Percy said, frowning at the ceiling.

  Shivering, Ryan went to the window and closed it, latching it securely. “Who was that?” he asked.

  "Jonathan. He's terrified of the title reverting to the Crown.” Percy rolled his eyes. “But back to more important matters. Such as James. I'm sure he's smitten with you. I can feel it. Honestly, how many straight boys get turned on by another man giving them a backrub?"

  Ryan gasped and almost cut himself. “How do you know?"

  "Why else would Maxim have tossed you off of him? If you weren't making any progress he would have left you alone. After all, he's quite sensitive to it by now. He's been haunting the lot of us for this very reason. Even Jonathan."

  "So you were haunted by the fourteenth Earl while you were alive?” The very idea was fascinating to him, speaking to a ghost who'd been haunted in life by a ghost he now, essentially, resided with.

  "Oh yes. He hated me. More than the others, possibly. Not that I was any worse. I was only more obvious."

  "Wait a minute. Are you saying all the Earls of Elgin have been gay?” Again Ryan gaped at him.

  "Damn near, yes. We're quite the argument for it being hereditary. Now, we haven't all acted on it, and obviously we've all rallied our family pride long enough to sire heirs or none of us would be here, would we?"

  Ryan could only blink. “What about my dad?” he asked quietly.

  Percy gave him a soft smile. “No. Your father loved your mother very much. As he loves you, Ryan."

  "How do you know?” he asked sharply.

  "I've communicated with him. Briefly. He wanted you to know that he's proud of you."

  Ryan's throat felt tight suddenly. “Oh,” he said hoarsely.

  "He's moved on, though, as you so gracefully put it."

  That caused a lull in the conversation, and Ryan finished shaving, then washed off his face. “So what's your deal, then?” he asked.

  "My deal?"

  "Yeah. Why haven't you moved on?"

  Percy frowned a little. “That's none of your business. We were talking about you, remember?"

  Ryan started combing out the ends of his hair. “So, it's okay for you, but not for me, huh? How come you can get all up in my business?” he asked.

  "I'm a ghost. I can do what I like. And if you don't tell me, I can just find out on my own, you know. Would you care for an example?” He folded his arms over his chest. “About five minutes ago, behind that wall,” he said, pointing towards the back wall of the shower, “Your little friend was having a rather steamy little dream about you. Would you like the details? It's really not the sort of dream straight boys have, by the way."

  Ryan whirled around. “Would you please leave him alone? What the hell did he do to you? If I don't scare him away, you're certainly going to. What makes you think I even want James, anyway? Maybe he's not my type. Maybe I'm not his type. Why can't you just stay the hell out of it?"

  James had just gotten up, and was moving toward the sound of Ryan's voice, slightly raised. He stumbled over the edge of the rug at Ryan's words, and knocked over a lamp.

  Ryan gasped, and Percy instantly moved through the wall to see what was going on. Ryan poked his head out of the door and saw James there. It occurred to him what James must have heard. “James, I, sorry, I was being harassed. I didn't, I was only trying to shut him up.” He stepped out into the room. “I didn't mean...” He blushed.

  "You are his type,” Percy ground out, clearly frustrated that James couldn't hear him. “Just tell him he is your type. Bloody hell."

  Ryan frowned. “Percy insists that I tell you that you are my type. Not that, you know, I mean I know you're straight and everything.” He really wanted to just die now.

  James stammered, “I, um, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I heard your voice and I'm sorry.” He bit his lip. “Are you all right?"

  Ryan swallowed hard. “Yeah. You know, other than the whole completely humiliated thing, I'm great. Need the bathroom?” he asked. He put on a blank expression and strolled past James, fumbling around in his suitcase for something to wear. Maybe if he just pretended nothing had happened, everyone else would, too.

  "Oh, very smooth,” Percy said, chuckling. “Your backwards little tactics might just work, though. You've got his pretty little head spinning."

  Ryan ignored him completely and pulled out a pair of black jeans, of which he had several.

  James followed after Ryan, saying, “You don't have to be humiliated. You can tell me anything.” He stopped short, eyeing Ryan in the towel, bent over. “Um, I was thinking. I don't think you should be alone here. Why don't you come along to the pub, you know, after Nigel finishes working you to death?"

  Ryan straightened up and turned to look at him. “I don't know. I guess. It would be nice to get out of this place and away from the pests,” he said, scowling sourly at Percy. “Are you sure you don't mind? I don't want to get underfoot or anything.” He was humiliated, though. Basically he just told James that he liked him. He knew James was straight, and he didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but it seemed like fate was conspiring against him. He put his hand lightly on James’ arm. “You know I would never try to make the moves on you or anything, right? I mean, okay, I kinda like you, but it's cool, really. I'm not, I wouldn't..."

  James looked into Ryan's eyes intently. “It's okay. Don't worry. If it made me feel uncomfortable would I still be here?” he asked. “Would I ask you to come hang out at work with me?” He hesitated. “I like you a lot, Ryan. Just not..."

  Ryan smiled a little sadly. “Okay. I'll go make the coffee."

  "Oh, he's fibbing. He's just in denial. Don't listen to him, Ryan,” Percy said.

  Ryan ignored him, not wanting to freak James out. “I'll just get dressed. I'm sure Nigel will be here soon, anyway."

  "Oh, joy,” smirked James. “I'm sure he'll be overjoyed to see me still here.” He glanced at the bathroom. “I'll just have a shower, then. Tell the damn ghost to stay out,” he joked.

  "Don't ogle James in the shower, Percy.” Ryan said with a grin. He sat on the edge of the bed and started putting on his pants. When he got them partway up his legs, he stood and turned to face away from James and Percy, pulling the jeans up over his ass, dislodging the towel.

  "I'll just go then,” James said faintly, fleeing into the still-steamy bathroom.

  "He was checking out your ass,” Percy said close to Ryan's ear.<
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  Ryan glanced around in time to see James disappear into the bathroom, then glared at Percy. He grabbed a sweater and pulled it on, heading downstairs.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Seven

  Once again, Nigel was waiting patiently in the drawing room with a cup of Earl Grey. “Good morning, my lord. I trust you had a less eventful night?” he said evenly.

  Ryan took a seat at the desk, putting down two mugs of coffee. “Ever heard of Percival Elgin?” he asked, bringing one cup close to himself and wrapping his hands around it for warmth.

  "The eighteenth Earl?” Nigel said, looking up. “I see you've been reading up on your ancestors,” he added, sounding pleased.

  "No, actually. I read about the fourteenth Earl,” he said, pointing to the portrait. “I met Percy last night."

  The solicitor was in the middle of taking a prim sip of tea, and he spluttered a little. “Pardon?” he said, coughing a little.

  "I met him. He appeared to me. Talked to me. I'm serious. And he said the other one is the one that pushed me.” He knew Nigel wasn't going to believe him, but it was worth a try.

  Nigel clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and sighed. “I see you persist in your belief in these fairy tales, my lord,” he said softly. “With all due respect, sir, it does not behoove a man of your position to indulge in the occult.” He looked disappointed.

  Ryan sighed. “Fine. What have we got today?” He took a sip of his coffee and noticed Percy stroll in through the bookshelf. He glanced over at him and shook his head.

  "What's wrong, dear boy? You should know poor Nigel hasn't got the imagination to believe in anything."

  There was a pad of paper in front of Ryan, and he had an idea.

  Nigel pulled his small, neat leatherbound notebook over in front of him and peered at it. “I have arranged for you to interview some potential staff today,” he began, then looked up. “If that meets with your approval,” he added a bit stiffly.

  "Yes. Fine. Are they here already?” he asked.

  "You should get a French chef. They make better food,” Percy said.

  Ryan glanced at him and then he scribbled on the pad, I don't like French food.

  Percy scoffed. “Peasant. What sort of food do you like?"

  Ryan scribbled, vegan.

  Nigel scowled at Ryan. He glanced at his watch. “The first candidates are set to arrive in about thirty minutes,” he said.

  "Good. Time for a little breakfast, then. Do you want anything?” he asked.

  Percy sighed. “I miss food. Sometimes I can almost imagine I can smell it."

  "No thank you, my lord. I breakfasted before I arrived,” Nigel replied. “Do go and eat. I shall await you here."

  Ryan put his pad away in the drawer and stood up. “I'll be back in a few minutes, then.” He nodded to Nigel and made his way to the kitchen. Percy floated along beside him. “Would you leave me alone?” he whispered.

  "Oh come on. Nigel already thinks you're right round the bend."

  James had showered quickly, and made his way to the kitchen and found some bagels, and was cutting up some fruit. He looked up when Ryan walked in, smiling. “Hello again."

  Ryan beamed at him. “Did you read my mind?” he asked. “I have some coffee for you in the drawing room.” He stepped close and picked a strawberry off the plate. “Mmm.” He sighed and impulsively rested his chin on James’ shoulder. “I'm kinda dreading hiring a cook now. Do you think they'll let us come in here and make our own food?"

  "It's your kitchen,” James pointed out. “If you don't want a cook, don't hire one.” He leaned into Ryan.

  Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. It felt nice.

  "He's really quite sweet, isn't he,” Percy commented.

  Ryan ignored him, but gave him the finger behind his back, knowing he would see. “Yeah, but I can't expect you to stay here forever to take care of me, “he said softly.

  James closed his eyes briefly. “I guess you're right,” he said. “Just get one that will do what you tell them to, then."

  "Well, I hope whoever I get will do what I tell them to."

  Percy laughed. “But none of them will take care of you like this one.” He lingered on the other side of James, partly dissected by the kitchen counter. “If I kiss him, I bet he'll feel it,” he said, grinning evilly.

  Ryan straightened, glaring menacingly at Percy.

  "Ooh, you don't want me to, do you?” Undeterred, he leaned in close and placed a ghostly kiss on James’ cheek.

  James shivered. “Percy's here, isn't he?” he said, an accusing note in his voice.

  "Yeah,” Ryan said softly. “He just kissed your cheek. I was trying not to freak you out.” He stepped back and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  James rolled his eyes. “Well, I can say I've never been kissed by a ghost before.” He looked around. “He really is a perv."

  "Oh now come on! It was only on the cheek!” Percy protested, putting his hands on his hips.

  Ryan couldn't help but giggle a little. “You've offended him, I think. He says it was only on your cheek.” Ryan took a bagel and tore off a piece, nibbling on it.

  "You're just jealous because you wish you had the balls to do it,” Percy said. Ryan had to grind his teeth not to rise to the bait.

  James rubbed at his cheek thoughtfully. “Well, it's the most action I've had for a while, so I suppose I shouldn't complain.” He blushed. “Um. Want some vegan cream cheese?” he said, looking down at the counter.

  "Ooh, yeah!” He put his bagel on a plate and cut it open. “Nice to see they have something civilized in the wild heathen land,” he joked. He glanced sideways at James, admiring his profile.

  "Ooh, he wants it, Ryan. It's been a while, he said. Give him just a little peck. Go on. He wants it,” Percy said.

  James opened the small tub. “I think I badgered the store into ordering it. They say the vegetarian market is expanding lately, though.” He got out a butter knife and slid it over to Ryan.

  Ryan wanted to kiss James. More than anything. But James had already been so tolerant. He was afraid to push too far. He took the knife and started spreading the cream cheese on his bagel.

  "Oh, you coward! How much more gay does he have to act?” Percy said, scowling.

  "So Fr—I mean, Nigel is here?” James asked.

  "Yeah. Frostyballs has some people for me to interview. They'll be here soon.” Ryan grinned at James.

  "I dare you to kiss his cheek,” Percy said.

  Ryan had had enough. “All right, that's enough. Go the fuck away, Percy!"

  James looked around at Ryan. “What did he do?” he asked, in frustration.

  "He was daring me to kiss you on the cheek,” he said, frowning at the ghost.

  "You're no fun. Fine, but I'm coming back to supervise the interviews.” He floated through the counter and off towards the drawing room again.

  James turned and leaned back against the counter, munching his bagel. “I think he just likes annoying you,” he observed. “He's like a little kid."

  "He's gone now,” he said. “I think you're right, though. He's just trying to get under my skin. It's like he's trying to, I don't know, push us together. He's convinced you're not straight, and that...” He couldn't say the rest, mostly because he wished it was true.

  "Try not to let him get to you,” suggested James, moving a little closer. “No sign of the bad ghost so far?"

  "Not today. No.” He took a bite of his bagel. “Listen, I'm gonna be tied up for a few hours. I don't know what you wanna do. I'm sure it won't be that exciting."

  James glanced at the clock. “I should go run a few errands,” he said. “Then I need to go into work a little earlier.” He looked at Ryan. “You promise you'll have Nigel drop you at the pub when you're done? I mean it. I don't think you should be here alone."

  Ryan smiled. “Yeah. I promise. It'll be nice to get away from that perv for a little while, anyway.” He bit into his
bagel again. “Are you staying again tonight?” he asked, glancing at him.

  "Of course,” James said immediately. “Um. Unless you want privacy."

  "No. I want you to stay.” Percy's words still bothered him. He leaned in and gave James a quick peck on the cheek. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Couldn't help myself."

  James grinned. “That felt better than Percy's kiss."

  Ryan blushed. “Well, that's reassuring. I kiss better than a dead guy, at least.” His lips tingled where he'd kissed James. “I should get going."

  "Okay,” James said. “I'll miss you, Ryan.” Impulsively, he pulled Ryan into a hug. “Have a great day."

  Ryan slid his arms around James’ slim body. He took a deep breath. “You, too. I'll see you tonight,” he said softly. Then Ryan reluctantly pulled away. “See you later.” And then he turned and headed back to the drawing room.

  Percy accosted him in the foyer. “Good boy! I knew you could do it!"

  "You really need to quit it with the spying, okay?” He slipped into to room and returned to the desk, taking out the pad again. He smiled at Nigel. “Okay. Whenever you're ready."

  "Right,” said the solicitor. He stood up from the chair behind the desk. “If you'll just sit here, I'll send them in one by one. There's a stack of CV's here for you, and if you want I can stay close by if you need assistance.” The man was all bristling efficiency when he was doing his duty.

  Ryan wondered what a CV was, but he was afraid to ask. He flipped the pad over, ready to talk to Percy if he started babbling.

  Nigel bustled out of the room and returned, leading a small, thin, mouse-like woman of indeterminate age. “My lord. This is Sylvia Clark, a chef. She comes quite highly recommended."

  The woman curtsied nervously, and stammered, “Good afternoon, my lord. It's an honor."

  Ryan smiled sweetly. Her resume was at the top of the stack. “Hi, Sylvia. Why don't you have a seat,” he said, rising from his chair politely until she sat down. He read over the piece of paper. “I see you have a lot of experience. Why did you leave your last job?” Ryan hadn't ever interviewed anyone, but he'd certainly been interviewed a few times.