Free Ghosts of Boyfriends Past by Vivi Andrews Page A

groaned and rocked at her sudden movement, but Gillian just reached up and braced the hammer on the ceiling, easily rebalancing the ladder in a feat of coordination Biz never would have been able to accomplish.
    “This is my shop. I live here.” And I’m afraid to go out the front door because I’m being stalked by a pair of sexy dimples on a mission. “What are you doing?”
    “I came to find out how your interview went.”
    “And that required a hammer?”
    Gillian looked at the hammer in her hand then at the crepe paper hearts dangling from the ceiling. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”
    “Oh, I’m surprised. But maybe next time you’re going for stealth you ought to avoid hammering through the floorboards.”
    “The house was dark. I figured you were out. So how’d it go? Please tell me he was a total jerk. Mrs. Whittaker is going to start a campaign to drag him back here and adopt him as the town mascot if he doesn’t reveal his nefarious intentions soon.”
    “Back here?”
    “Ollie Janeway saw him leave on the five o’clock ferry.”
    He was gone? Biz’s stomach took an elevator drop toward her toes.
    She should be happy. That meant he was free of the curse, but something in Biz whimpered. She hadn’t expected him to give up so easily. She’d told herself that she was running from him because of the curse, but was it also because she wanted so badly for a man like that to think she was worthy of the chase? Either way, it was too late now.
    “I didn’t meet him. I couldn’t.”
    Gillian’s eyes filled with disappointment and pity. “Oh, Bizby.”
    “Ugh. Gillian, could you please not look at me like I’m some pathetic love charity case? I get enough of that from the rest of the town.”
    Gillian wiped her expression clean. “I’m sorry.” She was silent for a whole millisecond. Biz should have known she wouldn’t be able to leave it at that. “It’s just I saw the way you were looking at each other at the diner this morning, and yes, he might be a scumbag reporter who’s trying to use your personal pain for his professional gain and I think he’s a reptile of the lowest order, but you were so into him and he definitely seemed into you and it didn’t have to be forever-after stuff as long as you got back in the saddle and lived again. You weren’t the one who died, Bizby, and I’m sick to death of you moping around like a corpse. Just looking at you is depressing.”
    “Ouch. I think you just called me a zombie.”
    “Well, you are when it comes to love. Romantically undead.” Gillian climbed swiftly down the ladder, hanging the hammer over the third step. “You can’t let your bad luck beat you, Biz. You have to get back in the game.”
    “It stops being a game after the third funeral.”
    “That wasn’t your fault,” Gillian exclaimed. “You had nothing to do with their deaths.”
    Biz studied the grain in the hardwood floor. What would Gillian say if she knew the truth about the curse?
    “You used to be all about love, Biz. All these decorations? Where do you think I got them? They were stored in my basement because you didn’t have room for all of them here. These are your decorations, Bizby. This is what your shop used to look like every year and now it’s…it’s just wrong in here.” Gillian bit her lower lip, and Biz thought she saw uncharacteristic tears shimmering in her no-muss, no-fuss, no-emotion best friend’s eyes. “I’m worried about you, Biz. You’ve changed.”
    “Sometimes change is a good thing.”
    “Not this. Not sucking all the love out of your life and replacing it with doom and despair.”
    Biz looked around the sickeningly over-decorated shop, and memories rose up off every beribboned surface. Memories of the girl she used to be. Eager for life. Back when everything was easy and light. Guilt, regret and fear were heavy emotions. They tangled around her like a steel-mesh net until nothing felt light anymore. “So that’s what this