Page 93 of Specters & Spotlights

Cici

I think I know what we might be dealing with. Call me while you’re curling.

Cryptic. Even by Cici standards.

“Elise,” Isla said, voice soft but firm, “you’ve been quieter than usual these past couple days. Everything alright?”

Elise blinked, a little surprised Isla had noticed. “Just been… a weird couple of days,” she replied, keeping her tone light but not exactly denying it.

Isla didn’t press. Instead, she smiled with that calm, grounded warmth that made Elise feel like she’d just had her hair smoothed by someone’s favorite aunt. “Well, weird days come and go. Just make sure you don’t let them settle in and start unpacking. Take care of yourself, alright?”

She stood, gave Elise’s shoulder a soft pat, and drifted into the night like a closing line in a well-worn script.

Nick sauntered up to the wig counter—his face freshly washed, his costume traded in for jeans and a hoodie. He moved with the leisurely confidence of someone who knew the show was behind him and the evening held possibilities.

He dropped onto the old wig trunk like it was his personal throne. “Kevin and I have been talking,” he announced, tone dry. “Okay—I’ve been talking to Kevin, mostly to thin air, really—but I’ve decided you need a change of scenery. Post-wigging, you’re coming out with me. That’s final.”

A breeze of cool air stirred behind Elise as Kevin made himself visible only to her. “I was not present for this so-called conversation,” he said with theatrical offense. “But now that I’ve been dragged into this, yes—I agree. You need something to shake the shadows loose.”

Elise fought a smile. “Kevin says he wasn’t actually present for this conversation, but he’s backing your plan anyway.”

Nick raised his eyebrows. “A reluctant endorsement from the spirit realm? I’ll take it.”

“But,” Elise added, holding up a comb like a gavel, “first we’re checking in with Cici. She sent a text earlier. I’m calling her as soon as this place clears out.”

Nick made a show of tipping an invisible hat. “Fine. But after the witches’ council adjourns, you’re mine for the night.”

Graham passed by the wig counter like the final note of a warm encore—unhurried, glowing, unsure whether to linger or leave. He gave Nick a silent nod—one of those wordless man-to-man exchanges that somehow conveyed both trust and instruction.

Then his eyes found Elise. “Text me if anything goes bump in the night,” he said, voice soft with suggestion.

Elise gave a slow grin. “What if I text you just for fun? You know, to test your reflexes.”

Graham’s smile deepened, eyes dancing. “Then I hope I prove myself equal to the occasion,” he replied, slipping into his Mr. Darcy voice, all stormy restraint and noble yearning.

Elise’s stomach did a little pirouette. Her knees, absolutely traitorous, wobbled.

With a final look, equal parts fond and daring, Graham turned and strode out.

Nick waited until the footsteps faded. “Okay, what was that? The tension between you two tonight? I needed a fan and a fainting couch.”

He flung himself dramatically into a nearby chair. “I even told him he could hang back with you tonight, just in case. He turned me down. Said he didn’t want to smother you.”

Elise blinked. “He said that?”

Nick nodded, theatrical. “Verbatim. He’s worried about crowding you. It’s kind of adorable. Like watching a golden retriever try to tiptoe.”

Elise bit back a grin. “He’s sweet. A little in his head, but… sweet.”

“Sweet? Elise, this is the slowest burn I’ve ever seen. Can you just drag him into the nearest broom closet already? You’re killing me.”

She laughed. “Nick, not all of us have your... ‘carpe diem’ approach.”

From somewhere behind her, Kevin sniffed. “Nick would sleep with a coat rack if it winked at him.”

“Rude,” Nick muttered, crossing his arms like he knew exactly what had been said even if he couldn’t hear it.

Elise chuckled and shook her head. “Honestly? I don’t mind the slow. It’s different. Better, maybe. Everything else in this world moves so fast. Maybe slow is exactly what I need.”