Sleeping With Ghosts (#SYTYCW15 Top Ten)

Chapter One

A QUICK NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
Thank you so kindly to all those of you who voted for Sleeping with Ghosts in So You Think You Can Write 2015! I'm now taking all but the opening chapters off Wattpad while I seek publication.

Of course, it will still be available for a short time on the competition website: http://www.soyouthinkyoucanwrite.com/sleeping-with-ghosts/

You can also check out a preview of my current work in progress, Night Swimming, here: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/54899074-night-swimming-a-preview


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"I bet you anything your new boss is hot. Like, Outback Stallion hot. God, you're so lucky!"

Claudia Nyman, balancing her phone on one shoulder and rifling through a small but scrupulously organised wardrobe, snickered at the predictability of her best friend's comment.

"They're never hot," she assured Kim, yanking out a soft black blazer and camisole. "And I didn't interview for the position, so I haven't even spoken to him yet. Only his assistant. Jack hooked me up."

"Is that Hunky Jack?"

Claudia rolled her eyes. "A pulse and a penis," was Kim's motto, although it was never totally clear whether she was joking or not. "No, I think it was Dreamy Jack."

A pause. "I don't remember a Dreamy Jack."

Claudia was impressed. "You actually remember these names? I was just kidding, it was Hunky Jack. Anyway, Jack did some design for this Atlas Adventure guy, who said he needed a writer, so Jack recommended me."

"Jack can recommend me any day - God, I'm even boring myself. Tell me more about the job. Are you nervous?"

"Weirdly, yeah," Claudia admitted, slipping on the camisole distractedly while negotiating the telephone handset. "I mean, it's my last gig before the move. I think I'm kind of freaked out."

"Don't remind me," moaned Kim. "I can't believe you're moving three hundred kilometres away. You're a terrible friend, you know that?"

"Plus I haven't worked in an actual brick and mortar office for years. And I bet everyone wears little vests with pockets all over them and pants made out of plastic."

Kim cackled with delight. "You'll fit right in," she said, her tone gleefully unconvincing. "Look, don't worry about it. You're not there to scale cliff faces, you're a writer. And maybe you'll learn to like plastic pants!" She paused."I bet there's at least one babe working there."

"Maybe," said Claudia, idling in front of the mirror and debating the likelihood of a forest-green silk skirt providing adequate office camouflage. It seemed unlikely. Most freelancers she knew worked in jeans, but Claudia couldn't bring herself to do it. She enjoyed clothing, and while she knew it made her something of an anomaly, she just felt more comfortable in romantic blouses, vintage scarves and full skirts in beautiful fabrics.

"You need to broaden your hunk horizons. You haven't been with anyone since Mitch."

"I slept with Evan a few times. Remember? That was fun! I like Evan."

"Evan was just an Mitch in Evan clothing! You need to try sleeping with someone who's not skinny, nine foot tall and, like, a turn-of-the-century dandy."

Claudia started laughing. Kim's words had a ring of truth: her predilection for a nice suit had led her to date an impressive string of foppish oddballs in the recent past. None of them had proved long term deals, but at least she had learned a lot about hydroponic gardening, bicycle maintenance and Proust.

"Maybe I have a type."

"Nah," Kim dismissed this idea immediately. "That's not your type,"

"Well, what's my type?"