Chapter 17 #3
“Good. I’ll go get that request in. You take another read of the back cover copy, and then we’ll break for lunch,” Henry says, standing abruptly.
Frannie shakes her head. “Yes, right, yeah. Good.”
Henry chuckles and heads out of the apartment, the door banging shut behind him.
Frannie gives it a second, then looks around at the seemingly empty apartment. “Okay, very funny,” she calls.
Silence reigns and Frannie sits there waiting, but nothing happens. Elsa must have gone elsewhere. Slowly, she wakes her computer to check her email.
“A ghost hunter?” Michael asks, appearing suddenly right next to Frannie.
Frannie jumps in her seat. Elsa materializes behind Henry’s chair and pushes it back in, watching Frannie with that raised eyebrow. Frannie’s stomach bottoms out.
“You want someone to hunt us?” Bridgette exclaims, appearing next to Michael with a horrified look.
“Oh, God, no. Wait. I—”
“How could you?” Michael adds, wrapping his arm around Bridgette’s shoulders.
Frannie gapes at them and then looks over to Elsa, who stares back, face entirely blank. “I didn’t think—he’s really not going to hunt you. And you can just not show yourselves. I’m so sorry, I should have asked. I just kept forgetting,” she admits, looking at Elsa beseechingly.
“That’s all you have to say?” Elsa asks, chin high, eyes narrowed.
“I—I—” Frannie starts.
And then Bridgette starts to giggle.
Frannie swings her gaze to the kids, watching Michael sigh and shove Bridgette away from him.
“Aw, we almost had her,” he says with a whine.
“Almost—” Frannie gasps out, looking over at Elsa as she cracks, too, her face splitting in a pleased, mischievous smile.
“I was gonna do a whole thing about being trapped in a proton blaster,” Michael says dramatically, slumping over one of the chairs while Bridgette continues to laugh and point at Frannie.
“This is just mean,” Frannie says, raising her hand to her rapidly pounding heart. She glances from Elsa to the kids. “Did you go get them just to screw with me?”
“You invited a ghost hunter without telling us. I think this is fair game,” Elsa says archly, walking around the opposite side of the table to reach Frannie. She runs a hand through Frannie’s hair, tugging lightly. Frannie shivers with a soft groan and Elsa grins at her.
“You kept distracting me,” Frannie says, looking up at her smug face.
Elsa laughs. “Yes, well, that’s true.”
“We’re going to mess with him so hard,” Bridgette says gleefully.
“What?” Frannie exclaims, dragging her eyes away from Elsa to look over at the grinning ghost kids.
“That’s the price you pay. Bring a ghost hunter, get haunted, chaotically,” Elsa says. Her fingers trail down to toy with Frannie’s ear.
“We made the last one cry,” Michael says proudly.
“How long ago was that?” Frannie asks, trying to pretend Elsa’s touch is not doing things to her.
“Twenty years?” Michael asks, looking to Elsa.
“About,” Elsa agrees.
“We’re gonna make Henry cry this time,” Bridgette says. Michael nods seriously next to her.
“Guys,” Frannie starts.
“A lot,” Elsa says.
Frannie looks up at her imploringly. “He’s being nice!”
“He’s being entirely neutral,” Elsa argues. Frannie opens her mouth. “That’s the bargain. You get to let your friends in, we get to screw with your boss in retribution for making you cry.”
Frannie glances at the kids, who stare back, their arms crossed. “He hasn’t made me cry in weeks.”
“That’s a terrible metric,” Elsa says with a huff.
Frannie looks up and meets her eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Yeah, definitely,” Elsa insists.
“He’s a butt head,” Bridgette adds.
Frannie sighs and throws up her hands. “Fine.”
“It really is,” Elsa says with a smile. “Now, we’ll leave you to your notes, but you’ll come up to the office later? He’ll have to free you eventually.”
“I’ve got twenty pages of transcription waiting for me after lunch,” Frannie confirms.
“How?” Elsa asks with a frown. “Didn’t he just lock the other book?”
“He’s prolific,” Frannie says, her body tensing again as Elsa continues to stroke her ear.
Elsa smirks, her hand trailing down to rest against Frannie’s shoulder, fingers brushing at her pulse. Frannie tries to scowl, tries to hold onto her frustration and shock, but she’s melting, fast.
“We’re making more paper animals. Will you help before you do your pages?” Bridgette asks.
Frannie blinks and looks over at the kids. “Absolutely. And I’m getting you back for this,” she adds, gesturing to the three of them.
“We’ll see,” Michael says in a credible imitation of Elsa’s haughtiest voice. Bridgette grins, and then they disappear.
Frannie can hear footsteps outside the apartment. She looks up at Elsa and grabs her wrist. “You’re evil.”
Elsa smirks and shrugs her shoulders. “Later,” she whispers.
The footsteps grow louder.
“I’m holding you to that,” Frannie hisses as she disappears.
The door opens and Henry bustles back into the apartment. Frannie straightens up, trying to look normal. She hopes her blush isn’t too noticeable. She can still hear the echo of Elsa’s throaty chuckle.