Page 21 of Shake Your Boo Thang

“Come on, let’s get inside. We’ve got a lot of work to do tonight.”

Beau stands at attention, giving me a mock salute and a wink. It’s utterly ridiculous, especially when he’s wearing trousers with cat faces printed on them and a bow tie that matches.

I roll my eyes and unlock the door, ushering him in ahead of me and then making sure to lock up behind me. This time I brought a torch for us to navigate the dark hallways rather than relying on my phone yet again. Everything is still and quiet as we pass through the space, and my eyes and ears are at attention the whole way.

When we reach where the supernatural activity has largely taken place, Beau walks around the room, humming softly to himself.

“I sense a different presence here,” he tells me. “It’s stronger than the one from last time.” He grins at me and rubs his hands together. “That means we might be able to get some real answers out of this one.”

He walks to the front of the room, the mirror panels doubling his reflection, and stands with his hands on his hips.

“I know you’re here, so why don’t you do us all a favor and come on out, hon? I’m sure you’ve been dyin’—no pun intended—to share why you’re so upset that you’ve taken to haunting this here building. Now’s your chance to tell your story. Let it all out. Mama always says, trouble shared is trouble halved.”

Beau’s tone is sweet and inviting, and he’s laying it on thick, but somehow I can’t look away. He’s downright mesmerizing. I have a sinking feeling that, if he keeps firing that deadly level of charm in my direction, I’ll end up doing whatever he wants. Because who the hell would want to say no to him?

The dimmable lights in the room start to flicker and a chill races up my spine. Once again, I reach for the baton I no longer carry and then curse under my breath. The temperature drops and my breath fogs in the air.

My hackles rise.

Beau, however, yawns loudly and appears completely unimpressed.

“Sweetie, I’ve seen these types of amateur-hour theatrics hundreds of times. Haven’t you got something more original you could show us?”

That’s when the phantom image of a strobe-lit disco ball materializes above our heads, casting fractured rainbows of light across the walls and floor. The stereo system suddenly crackles to life on its own and the song “Boogie Wonderland” starts playing. Mimi’s spin studio is quickly starting to look like a disco club.

Beau slow claps. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about, sugar. A little originality makes so much more of an impression, doesn’t it?”

A ghost, semi-translucent in appearance, joins us.

It’s the spirit of a man I would guess to be in his late twenties, and he’s wearing the tightest pair of white bell-bottoms I’ve ever seen and a gold lamé top that looks like a cross between a blouse and a dress shirt. His entire look basically screams Saturday Night Fever.

His fair hair is layered in a kind of feathering look around his face a la Barry Gibb, and he crosses his arms while he studies us both.

“Well, hello there, sir,” Beau says. “I’m Beauregard Jeremiah Montgomery, but my friends call me Beau, and I sure do think we could be friends. And who might you be?”

The ghost’s mouth moves, and Beau turns to me with a clear-eyed gaze.

“He says his name’s Jonathan Turner.”

I open my notepad and jot it down.

He turns his attention back to the spirit. “Well, Jonathan, pleasure to meet you, although I do wish it was under friendlier circumstances. Would you want to tell me what all this is about? Why have you and your friends been disrupting these spin classes?”

The ghost looks me up and down then turns back to Beau, moving his mouth.

I frown. “What did he say?”

Beau chokes back an amused laugh. “He… uh… wants to know who you are and if you’re single.”

My mouth drops open. “What the fuck?”

Beau’s lips quirk. “Jonathan here thinks you’re handsome.” He winks at me then turns back to the ghost. “I entirely agree, honey. Beyond that gruff exterior, he’s got a good heart and a smoking hot bod—from what I can tell, anyhow. I haven’t personally been able to see him gloriously au naturel just yet, but I’m workin’ on it.”

The ghost’s face moves like he’s chuckling, and I choke on my own saliva. “What the hell is going on right now? Are you and a ghost flirting with me at the same time?”

Beau shrugs. “So it would seem.” He cocks his hip and gives me a sultry look. “But I do believe I have an edge here since I’ve still got a heartbeat and a dick that works.”

Jonathan says something and Beau holds up an apologetic hand.