The Life & Death of Jorja Graham Page 5

  “I think that all this open space begs for tables with linens instead of rows and rows of chairs. Think more charity auction than estate auction,” I said with the wave of my pen. From the look on his face, I’m pretty sure I could have said I wanted an orchestra and an elephant and he would’ve agreed to it. “I’d really love to see what the upstairs looks like,” I said as I pointed up.

  He waved a hand offering the steps to me first. “Feel free, Ms. Graham. I cleared my afternoon just for you.”

  I stopped midway up the stairs and turned to look back at him. “May I ask you something?”

  “Why am I so attracted to you considering I’ve only spoken with you a few times?” he asked.

  At his comment, I furrowed my brows. “How did you know I was going to ask that? And yes, why? I’m sure you can get any woman you want, why are you interested in pursuing me?”

  “I find you captivating. You are not an open book like a lot of women are. There is something about you that’s distant and withdrawn. I can only assume it’s related to some sort of painful experience in your past. However, the truth of the matter is that it’s not who you really are or who you want to be.”

  I couldn’t believe what he was saying and I swore inwardly that my aunts were gonna get it. Exactly how much did they share with Mr. Casanova here? “I’d say it’s more like I just met you and since the first time we spoke, you’ve been overbearing and pompous, two traits I don’t particularly value in suitors.”

  He laughed before he took two steps up the stairs. “Very well then, maybe I can show you an alternate side of me that’ll change your opinion.” He continued to the top and turned to look down at me. “Are you coming?”

  I lifted a brow and squinted for a second before I met him on the landing. He was infuriating and yet there was something about him, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. We looked through several rooms before we came to two double doors. Mr. Holbrook gripped the handles and pushed them open. A gush of cool air flew out of the room and blasted us, chilling me to the bone.

  “Guess the house has a bit of a draft. You may want to have that looked at before you take occupancy.” My statement was more an inquiry than a suggestion into his affairs.

  “I have no intention of taking occupancy. As soon as the auction takes place, I’ll be putting it on the market. I’ve already had several people express an interest.”

  “Oh. I...I guess I assumed.” The look on my face must’ve spoke volumes because he stepped in front of me, beckoning my eyes to his.

  “You seem surprised and yet, I know you were aware that I had no intention of staying here in Savannah, so why did you just lie?”

  I looked him square in the eyes. “You really are infuriating, you know that, right?” He smiled but remained quiet, his face smug as he watched me squirm in the silence. “Fine. I asked because I love this property. I’ve loved it since I was a child.”

  “Honesty. Finally. If you want to buy this house, why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because I am certain it’s going to be more than I can afford and I didn’t want…just forget I said anything.”

  He arched his brow at me but thankfully I was released from his stare when his cell phone rang. “I’m sorry, I’ll just be a minute,” he said as he walked out of Rhetta’s room and into the hall.

  God, Jorja, you are so stupid.

  I walked towards the big picture window on the opposite side of the room, wanting to know what the room looked like with light. It was covered in heavy brocade curtains but a sliver of sunlight had managed to slip through. I could see the dust covering almost every square inch of the fabric so I opened it gently, using the corded ties to hold them open. When I turned around I saw a black haze move past the doorway and into the hall. I blinked, realizing it must’ve been a shadow, then continued cataloging the items in the room.

  The room was large and filled with some stunning pieces. A Victorian dressing table, an American Aesthetic half-tester bed, a cedar hope chest, and a pillar and scroll shelf clock sitting on the mantel above the bedroom fireplace. I couldn’t believe all the amazing antiques she’d collected over the years. Some of these things dated back to the 1800s and must’ve been handed down from her ancestors with extreme care because each one was in mint condition.

  I walked over to the French wardrobe and stared at it for a moment. It looked too new to be vintage and there was only one way to confirm it. I pulled out my keys and held the tip of one of them to the oval mirror in the center of the armoire. The reflection touched, a confirmation that it was indeed antique. Modern mirrors show a distance in the reflection, antiques did not. I ran hands along the carvings and was in awe. This piece alone had to be over a hundred years old. “The treasures you’ve collected, Rhetta, are stunning. Someone is going to love them,” I commented as if she could hear me from the beyond.

  There were two more mirrors in the room and I decided to test those as well; again, original. I walked back over to my bag to grab my highlighter when the clock on the mantel began to chime. Impossible. I spun around and stared at it for a moment, waiting for it to chime again, but it stayed silent. Weird.

  As I reached down to pick up my bag, it was gone, well not gone but moved. I’d set in on the rug at the foot of the bed but it was no longer there. It had moved at least a foot from where it had been a few moments ago. “What the hell is going on?” I said under my breath.

  “Is everything okay?”

  I looked to Mr. Holbrook and then back to my bag which was now back at the foot of the bed. “Yes–I’m…I’m fine…I just could’ve sworn.”

  “Sworn what?”

  “Nothing. It must be low blood sugar or something.”

  He smirked. “Perfect. Then you cannot deny my invitation for lunch.” I went to protest but was immediately interrupted. “Just lunch, Ms. Graham and then I’ll bring you right back here to finish your work. A sandwich can’t possibly beguile you but it will certainly nourish you. I can’t have you passing out on the job now can I?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I guess you are right. Sandwiches aren’t typically hypnotic. Lunch sounds wonderful, thank you.”

  We walked out of the room, the floorboards creaking with each step. “You may want to have that looked at too before you sell, Mr. Holbrook.”

  “Can we stop with the formalities? I’d prefer it if you called me Corbin.”

  I looked over at him as we stood at the top of the stairs. “Well, I guess I’ll have to if we’re going to break bread with one another,” I replied as I started down the stairs. I had a huge grin on my face but since I was walking away from him, he was completely unaware, or so I thought.

  “I do love it when you smile.” He called out from the landing. “Beautiful and a sense of humor, the perfect combination as far as I am concerned.” He moved to stand next to me, his hand brushing my shoulder as he did.

  “Is it safe to assume the ‘charming act’ will end when we get to lunch then?”

  “I do believe that it's you who should try containing the charm, Ms. Graham. I’m just reacting to you.”

  I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “Yeah right, and to be fair, please call me Jorja.”

  Corbin nodded with a satisfied look and opened the door to the house. The leaves rustled off the front porch and I wrapped my arms around myself to generate some warmth. “I guess fall is coming sooner than I thought. That is the second chill I’ve had today.”

  As we stepped off the porch, the large man from the café this morning got out of the car and went to open the door to the backseat. “Not necessary, Lucas, I’ll be driving Jorja and I. Stay here, we’ll be back in an hour or so,” Corbin commanded as he opened the door for me, offering me a hand as I slipped into the seat. “And take a look at the second floor, Lucas, there seems to be an unexplainable draft that needs to be taken care of.” Corbin’s voice was clipped but calm as he shut the door and walked around the car.

  We only drove a
short distance before we stopped at a quaint gourmet market featuring bistro fare with pastries and wine. The perfect setting for a romantic lunch, his plan all long I was sure, but I was starving so I’d go along with the ruse, at least for the moment. Lunch was actually nice. We drank a glass of wine with our deli sandwiches and talked about a variety of topics. And surprisingly, he kept the charm to a minimum. I found Corbin to be an intriguing man, not at all like my original impression. I still had no intentions towards him but at least for the time being, I could tolerate his company.

  Lunch took longer than an hour but once we returned to the estate, we made quick work of tagging the furniture Corbin intended to keep versus sell. He looked at the sketches I made and agreed that a more casual elegant version of an auction would be better suited. I finished cataloging and photographing each item to be sold and marked the ones I’d need to research the current prices for.

  Dusk had settled in and I thanked Corbin again for lunch and the help. He asked if I wished to have dinner as well but I declined. I knew that if I continued to see him socially, my feelings could be swayed and I didn’t have time for a complicated relationship. As I went to leave, I pressed my hands on the panels on the front door.

  “The craftsmanship is amazing, so expertly carved. This house is a treasure. Whoever is lucky enough to buy it will be happy with the historic detailing. There are a few things of course that will need to be renovated, but all in all, the home is magnificent.”

  “Well, I guess that’ll be up to you,” Corbin replied.

  I glanced over my shoulder at him expecting to see him smiling but he wasn’t, he was dead-pan serious. “Up to me?”

  “You love this house and you love the history behind it. I’ll have the home renovated and that pesky draft taken care of and then the home will be yours. Consider it a gift.”

  Flabbergasted, I replied, “A gift I couldn’t possibly accept.”

  “Then consider it payment for services rendered. Either way, the home is yours, Jorja.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Holbrook, but I cannot accept your overwhelmingly generous offer. It’s just not…”

  “We’re back to being formal, huh?” I began to speak but he raised his hand to stop me. “We can talk about this later. Sleep on it if you need to, but like I told you earlier, I’m only after a few things in this home and I have no need for another property to manage. This would just be a good business exchange, nothing more.”

  “I doubt anything with you is simple,” I said as I opened the door. “The cleaning crew will need at least eight hours and can you be available tomorrow to finish cataloging everything?”

  “Let me know what time works best for you, Jorja, and I’ll make it happen.”

  I stood on the porch and then turned to look back at him. “I’ll see you at ten o’clock then and we can begin tagging the estate jewelry and the other miscellaneous items we spoke about earlier.”

  I smiled and he nodded. It was a simple goodbye for a somewhat complicated situation. As I got into my car and drove down the path to the front gate, I wondered why he was being so generous. He had to have an ulterior motive because men like him always did. My mother’s voice blared in my head. “You are a fool, Jorja. Exactly how stupid are you? One lunch and a clever conversation and now you are falling for his charms? Just like I always said, you can be bought if the price is right.”

  “Go to hell, Mother. I am nothing like you say….nothing!”

  My knuckles were turning white from how hard I was gripping the steering wheel. I knew her words weren’t true but was I being a fool? There was something about him that lured me but also something that worried me. I didn’t know anything about him and that wasn’t going to be solved over a few lunches or meetings. Tomorrow will be different. All business, nothing else.

  c h a p t e r

  EIGHT

  The next morning was a complete shambles, apparently I’d slept through my alarm and when I woke I was lying in a pool of sweat and my heart was pounding.

  “Jorja!” Cat’s voice called out from downstairs. “Are you all right?” Then she laughed. “Wait, before I come up, are you alone?”

  I sat there, silent. I was completely disoriented and couldn’t get a handle on whether I was dreaming or awake. I turned to the clock and watched as 10:23 flashed in steady beats. The power went out? Seconds passed and Cat stood in the doorway of my bedroom, staring at me with shock in her eyes.

  “What the hell happened to you?”

  I stared at her unsure of what to say. “I...I don’t know. I guess the power went out and I just woke up.”

  “I don’t give a shit about you sleeping in, look at your arms.” She came to the side of the bed, flipping and twisting my arms as she sat beside me.

  I was covered in black and blue welts and dried blood coated the scratch marks that etched my skin. It looked as if someone had gripped my arms and held on for dear life. Again, I was speechless.

  “Jorja, look at me. How did this happen? You couldn’t have possibly slept through this?” Cat insisted.

  “I have no idea why I have these marks. I mean, I dreamt that someone was shaking me, trying to get me to listen to them, but it wasn’t painful or harsh. In fact, it sounded like Daddy talking to me, telling me to trust my intuition.”

  Cat gave me an odd look. “What else happened in your dream, Jorja?”

  I knew why she was asking and knew she’d pester me until I answered. Cat’s mother and grandmother were both historians that focused all their research on ancient religions and their impact on our world. Cat was raised in a home that believed in the supernatural…angels, demons, and the power of earthbound spirits. There were many times when I tried to deny what they told me, but I’d seen Cat’s mother, Lucille, talk with spirits and communicate with things I couldn’t see. It never frightened me, but it also had no effect on my belief system either. Cat on the other hand, believed with a staunch passion.

  “It wasn’t anything, really.” My voice sounded a little more annoyed than I’d intended. Cat gave me a scolding look. “Fine. I saw black inky shadows and hands reaching for me, but that's it. They were just images in a dream. It was a nightmare. Hell, I thought I saw shit yesterday at the estate, but it wasn’t anything then and it’s not anything now.”

  “Do these look like nothing to you?” Cat pleaded as she showed me the cuts and bruises.

  “No, but…”

  My cell phone rang and Cat grabbed it off of the nightstand and answered it. “Hello. No, I’m sorry Mr. Holbrook, Jorja’s not feeling well today and she’ll have to meet you at the shop tomorrow.”

  Apparently my irate facial movements and scolding whispers went unnoticed because she moved off the edge of the bed and headed out into the hallway. “Yes, I understand, but she’ll be working from home today.”

  I looked at the clock and realized I’d completely missed my appointment with Corbin. I listened to Cat as she finished up her conversation, but I had no intention of staying here all day. I had work to do and a few marks on my arms weren’t going to stop me. A cup of coffee, a shower, a long sleeved shirt, and I’d be good to go. I scowled at Cat as I brushed past her on my way to the bathroom and whispered. “You can’t keep me here.”

  “The hell I can’t,” she said as she disconnected the call.

  “What did he say?” I called out from behind the closed door.

  “That he was sorry you were under the weather and that he’d continue on at the estate and meet up with you tomorrow.”

  I turned on the shower and waited a moment before stepping inside and pulling the curtain. He’d continue on, what the hell was he gonna do? “I have to go over there. Come with me if you feel the need, but I’m going!” My voiced echoed over the running water.

  “You’re such a pain in the ass, Jorja.”

  “I love you, too, Cat.”

  The weather wasn’t really cool enough for a turtleneck, but I wore one anyway. The last thing I needed was my aunts or Co
rbin getting wind of last night's crap and turning it into a situation.

  “Nice outfit,” Cat said as she handed me a cup of coffee. “No one will possibly think you’re trying to hide something.”

  “What? Jeans and a shirt…simple and easy.”

  Cat leaned against the doorframe as she watched me scurry around looking for shoes to throw on. “I’m telling your aunts and I’m calling my mom,” she chided as she took a sip of her coffee.

  “What are we, twelve? Cat, this is nothing.” She bit the inside of her cheek––a move she does when she’s pissed off but doesn’t want to get into a full blown fight. “Look, if I have another nightmare, I promise I’ll take it seriously. For all I know I could’ve done this to myself.”

  “Doubtful.”

  “Don’t you remember the dreams I used to have as a kid? How I used to sleep walk and have entire conversations and not remember any of it?” I reminded her as I slipped on socks and a pair of boots.

  “That was different, Jorja. Your Mother was the cause of most of those,” Cat countered.

  “And my mother just died and I’ve had no time to mourn. I just jumped right into work. Maybe this is my subconscious working shit out.”

  “You don’t need to mourn that bitch…good riddance,” Cat mumbled under breath.

  I arched a brow. “Maybe not but you can’t deny this could be something other than a spirit, can you not?” I pushed up the sleeves. Damn it was gonna be a long, warm day in a turtleneck.

  Cat chuckled as I walked past her and down the stairs.

  “I’m ignoring you.”

  “At least eat something before we leave or we can go grab something at the diner,” Cat said as we both walked into the kitchen.

  “I’m late as hell as it is, I’ll just grab an apple and a granola bar.”

  “He thinks you’re staying home today, another hour to eat isn’t going to stop the world from turning. You do know that if this were any other client, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I think he got to you, why else would you be so hell-bent on meeting with him?”