The Ghost of Christmas Present Read Free Page A

at him and caught him looking
at her.
    Damn, she looked even more beautiful,
now that she had that over-stuffed parka off. Silky spun-gold hair
kissed her shoulders; the kind of hair that falls perfectly back
into place, even after a windstorm.
    She started to lower herself into the
leather recliner, then glanced at him and moved over by the fire
onto the floor, a good three feet farther from him. She took
another sip of wine and looked at the ceiling, then at the wall,
then at the fire, then finally at him. He let the silence stretch a
minute.
    "How's the wine?"
    "Good. Good." She nodded. "Would you
like...I mean, can you drink...?"
    "No, thanks. The stuff goes right
through me."
    She grinned at that and took another
sip.
    "So what do you do for a
living?"
    "I paint." She swirled the wine in the
glass and watched the liquid climb to the rim. "Dad was an artist.
I hope to be as good as him someday."
    "A name I might recognize?" He was
pulling teeth here.
    "Xavier Travis."
    Jared did recognize the name. During
his wandering years he'd seen more than one of the man's
paintings.
    "So, do you go by Travis? Are you here
on sabbatical? Is someone joining you? Do you like dogs?" He tossed
that last one in to see if she was paying attention.
    She blinked at him, then leaned back
against a footstool, drew her legs up, and propped her wine atop
her knee.
    "Ummm...yes, no, no, and only big
ones."
    Good. A sense of humor.
    "So, what's your first name, or should
I keep thinking of you as that gorgeous mortal?"
    He shouldn't have waited until mid-sip
to ask that one. But she only choked for a second, then her eyes
watered.
    "I'm Alane. Travis. Alane Travis," she
clarified for any idiots who might be in the room.
    "Jared Elliott, at your service. I'd
offer you my hand but I don't have much of a grip."
    She smiled and bowed her head as she
shook it.
    "So, Alane Travis, you're here to work,
you're working alone, and you have a soft spot for large dogs. Got
a husband? Kids?"
    She cringed and took another
sip.
    "Can't find a man who understands the
artist in me. And my only child is a mutt named vanGogh. He lost an
ear in a dog fight before he landed in the pound. I rescued him
from death row."
    Ah! A sense of humor and a soft
heart.
    "What about you?" She took
him by complete surprise until he realized the wine had loosened
her tongue enough to ask. "Your story's got to be more interesting than
mine."
    Now it was his turn to
cringe.
    "Well, my name's Jared Elliott, as I
said."
    "Yeah...," she said leadingly, but he
remained silent. "How long have you been...," she waved the hand
holding the wine glass at him, sloshing some onto her fingers,
"...like this? Let's see. What would be the politically correct
term? Bodily deprived? Pulse impaired? Heartbeat
challenged?"
    Definitely mellowing. He'd have to
encourage her to imbibe more if she clammed up on him
again.
    "Two hundred years."
    "Huh?"
    "I've been like this," he gestured from
head to toe, "for two hundred years."
    "No, you haven't!"
    "Yes. I have."
    "Say something to me in...no wait.
That's not right." She blinked. "You don't sound two hundred years
old."
    He bit back a grin and wished he could
smooth away the silken strand of hair that had flopped over her
eye.
    "What manner of speech would the good
mistress have me speak? I vow my life has seen many. Wish you that
I converse as a rebellious traitor to the crown? A damn Yankee? A
really swell World War II vet? How about a real cool cat, or maybe
a groovy dude? Of course I can be awesome and radical, and even
bad, but you're such a def chick I can probably just be
myself."
    When he finally wound down she had the
goofiest, most endearing smile on her face he'd ever
seen.
    "Point taken," she said.
    He tried not to be smug.
    "But you don't look two hundred years
old, and I don't mean in age. Don't you guys walk around in shrouds
or the clothes you were buried in or something?"
    Jared rolled his eyes, then leaned back
and sprawled his legs out