He grinned as he waved a hand in front of his stomach. “It’s got these flowers like embroidered up here, where it rides pretty low again, so oh my God, boobs are happening right under there. She’s got beads—lots of them—hanging where I’m trying not to look. Pale pink lips, eyes that have all that stuff—liner and all that—thick, catlike so they just sing a song to a boy’s libido.”
“That’s a lot of detail you’ve remembered on this one.”
“It imprinted on my brain and my balls in that moment. ‘My man,’ she said, and I might have drooled a little, ‘you can handle that axe.’ At twelve, I didn’t know axe meant guitar, so I think I said: ‘Huh?’ And she told me Petty was great but to try learning ‘Satisfaction’ because the Stones were gods. Then she shot me the peace sign, and she tapped those two fingers on those pale pink lips and blew me a kiss that left me a quivering puddle of hormones.”
He lifted his beer in toast. “And she was gone.”
“That’s some story.”
“I never saw her again, and Owen and I both looked. That is, until I saw her picture in Collin’s book. I had my first real crush over the ghost of Lilian Crest, who called herself Clover.”
That struck Sonya like a lightning bolt. “My father’s birth mother.”
“Don’t hold it against me. I saw a hot babe, and she’d have been about eighteen. Actually, except for the pale pink, you’ve got her mouth.”
“Oh.” Instinctively, she pressed her fingers to it. “That’s so strange to hear.”
“It’s a really nice mouth. So those are my experiences with the haunted and haunting—that I remember.”
“But did you learn to play ‘Satisfaction’？”
“Oh yeah. I like to think she heard me when I whacked away at it in the music room.”
“I’m not a music history buff, but I don’t think Tom Petty was around—professionally—in the sixties.”
“No, he didn’t hit until…” With a frown, Trey trailed off. “Now, why didn’t that come home to me before?”
“Twelve-year-old hormones.” Impossible, Sonya admitted, to ignore the fact that the man who currently had her hormones humming had once crushed on her biological grandmother.
In spirit, she supposed.
“She kept up, somehow.”
“Must have. Collin liked music. You saw his vinyl collection.”
And with a second lightning bolt, Sonya raised a hand. “Trey, maybe she’s the DJ.”
“Having that same thought.”
On the counter, Sonya’s phone played ABBA’s “That’s Me.”
“Holy crap.” She grabbed her wine, took a gulp. “Give me a second, because this is good. Unsettling for a minute, but good.”
“That’s your biological grandmother.”
“Okay, back to unsettling. But it’s good. We have an identity, and that has to be positive. I’m not calling her Grandma. I mean, when you think about it one way, she’s younger than I am. I wonder if Collin ever met … his mother.”
“I don’t think he ever mentioned that to my father. I didn’t tell my dad or Collin. I told Owen, because hot babe.”
“Is it odd that I’m going to feel easier knowing who she is?”
“I think it would be odd if you didn’t. She isn’t trying to scare you. She wasn’t trying to scare me. She was, and is, making a connection.”
“She died here.” And it hurt Sonya’s heart to think of it. “She had to be afraid, in pain, but she plays music for me. I got a chance to bid on a major account today, and she played happy music for me.”
“What major account?”
“Oh.” Distracted, she pushed a hand at her hair. “Do you know Ryder Sports?”
“Sure. Based in Boston. I’ve bought plenty of their stuff online.”
She smiled. “What did you think of their website?”
“Sucks you in, easy to navigate. Your work?”
“I headed the team that designed it. They’re expanding, putting a store in Portland, and want to update. I’m going to be competing for the job against my old company. Which is … let’s go back to unsettling.”
“Not for long.” He said it so matter-of-factly, he gave her a boost she hadn’t known she needed. “You’re confident in your work for a reason.”
“They’re a strong, innovative company. But I’ve got the chance, and I’m taking it. And as you’re a client, I’ll say this in no way means I won’t give your firm exactly what it needs and wants.”