The interior was as unremarkable as the outside and she tried not to let her shoulders slump as she looked around the large room. In addition to a conference table and chairs in the center, there was a topographical map of the northeast section of the United States on one wall and a road map of the same area on the other. Damn, she’d been hoping for an X-Files poster or two, maybe a life-size statue of Beetlejuice in the corner.
“Can I help you?”
Presley turned to see a man coming out of one of the two offices in the back. About her height, he had unruly blond hair and wore wire-rimmed glasses that he pushed up higher on his nose as he walked toward her. The building might not be what she expected, but he looked exactly as she imagined a ghost hunter would look.
“I hope so,” she said. “I’m looking for Robert Reynolds.”
“I’m Robert. What can I do for…?” His voice trailed off as his hazel eyes went wide. “You must be Presley Kincaid, aren’t you? Of course you are. I didn’t expect you until five.”
She gave him an apologetic look. “I know I’m a little early. Sorry about that.”
He shook his head. “No, no. That’s fine. I just didn’t expect you to get here yet.” The garage door opened and he darted a quick glance in the direction of the sound, then looked back at her. “Can I get you a drink? We have a break room in the back. I think there might be some soda in the fridge. Or bottled water. Or…or something.”
Presley frowned. This guy hunted ghosts for a living? He looked like he was about ready to jump out of his skin at the sound of a garage door opening. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”
Robert nodded and pushed his glasses up on his nose again. “Here, why don’t you have a seat and…”
He stopped as a door opened behind him.
“Oh man,” he muttered. “Um…I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, but turned and practically ran over to the door as two men and a woman walked in.
Robert came to a halt before the trio and shoved his glasses up even higher. “You’re back. That was fast.”
“We only went up to Tarrytown to get some batteries,” one of the men said. He glanced at Presley, his golden-brown eyes sizing her up. “Who’s our guest? A new client?”
Client.
Presley blinked in surprise as the word registered. This gorgeous guy was a ghost hunter? She took in his chiseled jaw with its hint of stubble and wide, sensuous mouth before letting her gaze move lower to admire the broad shoulders and long legs that completed the package. No way was he a ghost hunter, not with those looks and that body. More like Sleepy Hollow’s resident model.
Robert did that nervous thing with the glasses again. “Not exactly.”
The man folded his arms across his chest, the movement making his well-muscled biceps flex. “What do you mean, not exactly?”
“Um…” Robert glanced at Presley, then turned back to the other man. “Maybe we should talk in your office.”
Dark eyes narrowed, then went from Robert to Presley before going back to Robert again. “This better be good.”
Presley stared after the two ghost hunters in bewilderment as they disappeared into an office on the far side of the room. The way Robert almost had to run to keep up with the other man’s long strides would have been comical if the situation wasn’t so awkward. She got the feeling Robert hadn’t told his partner about her tagging along with them. While she could still see them through the glass wall, she couldn’t hear what they were saying since they’d closed the door. She glanced at the man and woman standing beside her, hoping they would shed some light on things, but they looked as curious about what was going on as she was.
“You did what?” the hunk demanded, his deep voice so loud the glass actually vibrated.
Okay, so maybe she’d be able to listen in on their conversation after all.
Robert pushed his glasses up on his nose. “Just calm down and hear me out on this. I overheard you talking to Mav about bringing in some more money and…”
“And?” the other man prompted when Robert hesitated.
“And I found a way to do that. Presley Kincaid is an author. She’s writing a book about ghosts and needed to do some research, so I invited her to come with us this weekend.”
The hunk looked at Robert as if he’d told him Presley was an alien from another planet there to turn them all into mindless slaves. “You invited her to come along? Are you out of your damn mind? What we do isn’t a spectator sport. You should know that better than anyone.”
“I know,” Robert said. “But we could use the money and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to bring her on some of the simple home inspections, maybe a low-level smudging. Nothing dangerous. We can control the risk of exposure—”
“Control it, huh? How the hell are you going to do that? You suddenly turn into a psychic or something?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing,” the hunk growled. “You never know when it’s all going to go to shit, so you don’t involve civilians. Ever. That’s the number one rule of this job. Which means she isn’t coming with us tonight or any other night. Give her money back, say it was all a big misunderstanding and send her on her way.”
Through the windows that separated the office from the main room, Presley saw the dark-haired guy pick up the stack of mail on his desk and flip through it. Clearly that was his way of putting an end to the conversation. He sounded no different than those other ghost hunters she’d talked to, the ones who hadn’t wanted to involve her in their dangerous work. What a bunch of crap.
Robert was silent for so long Presley thought he was going to follow the other man’s orders without so much as a peep, but then he shook his head. “I can’t give her money back because we already spent it.”
His partner looked up from the mail with a frown. “Spent it on what?”
Robert sighed. “The repairs on the Hummer. What else?”
The good looking guy cursed loud enough to make Presley jump. He looked so angry she half expected him to put his fist though the wall. Or punch Robert in the nose. Instead, he threw the stack of envelopes down on the desk and turned to stare out the window, his back rigid.
Presley was wondering if maybe she should come back some other time when the woman beside her spoke.
“You’re an author, huh? Written anything I might have read?”
Presley tore her gaze away from the two men to look at the other woman. Presley wondered if she was asking because she wanted to make an uncomfortable situation a little less uncomfortable or whether she was genuinely interested.
“I don’t have anything published yet,” Presley explained. “This is my first book.”
The woman’s dark eyes lit up. “Oh. Cool. What’s it about?”
Presley opened her mouth to reply when the office door suddenly swung open and banged against the wall. The hunk stormed past them without so much as a glance in their direction and disappeared through the same door he and the others had entered earlier.
Robert followed at a much slower pace. He gave Presley a small smile. “Okay, we’re all set.”
Presley lifted a brow. “Are you sure? He seemed pretty pissed.”