I reach to open it, when a man dressed like an old-timey butler appears in spectral form and bows, pulling the door open for me.
The sight of a ghost who’s not my love grips my heart with an ache I’m learning to live with, and I once again clutch my pendant, bringing it to my lips to kiss in a silent prayer that may forever go unanswered.
I can hear music in the distance and people dancing. I’m about to walk toward the crowd, to begin searching every face to find my invisible lover, when my attention is pulled by a gentle hand landing on my shoulder.
“Is it really you?” a soft voice asks.
I’m paralyzed. Without a shadow of a doubt, my soulmate is standing behind me, given life, here to spend a night with me. That truth makes this moment so monumental that I don’t know if I can handle it without fainting. .
Tears threaten to ruin my amazing makeup job as I summon all my courage and turn to face the man I have been desperate to see and hold and touch my whole life.
His name escapes my lips along with all the breath in my lungs. “Leo.”
3
“Hello, Anna Jane.” Leo lifts his hand to caress my cheek, and the feel of his flesh against mine nearly undoes me.
“You’re really here?” I study him, my eyes drinking in every detail as I raise my hand to lay over his. He feels so real, so solid, so alive. Skin and bone and blood pumping through his body. A callused palm against my face. He’s dressed simply, in a white button-up and dark slacks. Any other man might be underdressed in this getup, but not my Leo. The clean white linen contrasts against his beautiful ebony skin, the fabric stretched over his strong chest. His dark hair is cut close and neat, his chocolate brown eyes are locked on me like he never wants to look at anyone else ever again.
“I am,” he says, answering the question I already forgot I asked as I lost myself in his eyes. He has the slightest drawl, just a hint of a southern accent that’s effortless and charming.
I pull my hand off of his so I can touch his face as he’s touching mine. My fingertips glance over his chiseled jaw, tentatively, nervously. What if he disappears and this is all a dream?
But no. We are both here. Both real. Both together.
Tears blur my eyes, and I suck in a breath as my hand slides down to land on his chest. “You’re b--”
“Black?” he says, his eyes dancing between mine, trying to gauge my reaction.
“I was going to say beautiful,” I say with a bit of sass. “But yeah, also Black.”
“You expected a white Union Soldier?”
I open my mouth to answer but can feel blood rushing to my cheeks faster than the words will come. I mean, of course, that’s what I expected. I grew up in a small New England town that’s offensively pale; the image of a Civil War Era soldier only came in one shade.
I trace my finger along his cheek, captured by his features, in love with every detail.
“I’ve never wanted anything in my life as badly as I wanted you to be real,” I say, tears washing my cheeks but my voice staying firm. “You’re my dream come true. In every way.”
We’d probably stand here staring at each other for eternity if not for a loud throat clearing from the butler ghost behind us. He’s sweetly gesturing for us to move along and stop blocking the way.
For the first time, I notice that we’re at the top of a long, elegant, curving staircase. It takes a minute for things to click into place, but I finally realize this isn’t just any staircase--it’s THE staircase. I watched Kate Winslet walk down this mother-effer like 10,000 times.
Holy shit. We’re on the Ship of Dreams. The most famous boat… ever.
This would be so exciting on any other day. At any other point in my life, I’d run around and geek out, but being on this vast and infamous boat is so infinitely, impossibly, indubitably less important than the fact that I’m standing next to Leo.
“Where can we get a drink?” I ask the butler dude behind us. He inspects us, seeing if he can figure out what we need without asking.
“You want to watch a show or just drink and blend in with the crowd?”
I look to Leo, my eyes lingering on his as I answer. “The latter.”
“All right,” the ghost says, “you’ll want to go all the way down to the hull. There’s a dining saloon you should enjoy.”
I smile my thanks to the man and then loop my arm through Leo’s as we head down to the main floor.
Our eyes are locked the whole time and it’s insane that I don’t break a stiletto and then promptly tumble to my death. Fortunately, we’re floating on tiny clouds of love. I can’t prove that, but I know it to be true.
When I finally take the time to look at the steps I’m descending, they take my breath away. They’re designed with beautifully carved wooden banisters and carefully manicured glass. I want to stop and inspect every floor, but we keep moving down so we can simply sit and be together.
When we arrive in the hull, loud music echoes from what must be the bar we’re seeking. It doesn’t sound like it’s going to be the most peaceful setting, but hopefully, we’ll be able to find a private corner.
We walk into the dining saloon and see what kind of privacy we’ll be getting. Chairs line the edges of the room, making way for a dance floor packed with energetic ghosts and other supernatural sorts. A couple of bartenders work the small bar, busy serving every type of drink to people and creatures from every walk of life.
The whole room has an indescribable vibe. It’s like the awesome dive that only the locals know about but still has all the fancy amenities you’d want from an upscale party. The dim red lighting makes the room either seedy or sultry, depending on the feel you’re going for. I’ll take sultry, please and thanks.
“Can we go to the bar?” I ask Leo. “Avoid all the--”
“Yes.”
There’s such profound love in his eyes it makes my knees weak. All my life, I’ve settled for men I had no business being with or lusted for guys who would break my heart. I’ve finally found my equal. Truly--my soul mate.
But only for tonight?
I shut the thought down as soon as it enters my head, not ready to look past this moment. I’m finally with the love of my life, in the flesh, and I’ll savor this feeling for as long as I can.
We walk up to the bar and find two empty stools. Other people, a mix of those living in the present day and ghosts from a bygone era, mill about, laughing and talking like this is just another party. Of course, some people are wide-eyed with astonishment, unable to believe what they’re seeing. Magic life came at me hard and fast after I learned my best friend was a witch, so I’m taking most of this in stride.
But Leo… he’s been dead a long time. He must be going through quite a range of emotions now that he has a body.
“What’ll it be, lovebirds?”
The bartender tosses a couple of coasters in front of us and gives me a wink, though it’s not the distasteful kind I’m so used to getting. More of a “I’m a handsome bartender and this is my bag” kind of wink. He’s good looking enough, with striking blue eyes and long blond hair, but he’s not my type.
Leo looks at me, ignoring the wink and giving me the go-ahead to order our drinks. Not only is he 150 years dead, but he also knows I’m a bartender and the best equipped to make this decision.