C.A.K.E

Chapter 3: Casper's Ghost

Arden arrives home with a little over an hour's time to get ready for dinner with the Callaghans. She

would have left the bakery earlier. But one of her employees had a family emergency. So Arden had to

close the cafe alone, which means she had to handle a wedding cake delivery on her own as well.

The bride and groom loved her three-tier, cherry blossom masterpiece of fondant so much, they invited

her to stay for the reception. By the time she convinced them she couldn't stay, they had promised to

name their first child after her. The newlyweds were taking full advantage of their open bar.

Arden smiles at the thought of being that young—and drunk—and in love. Just then, she receives a

text from Elliott. He's running late. No real surprise there.

Remains were found in the Pelham City landfill two days ago, and his services were needed. Her

husband is good at what he does, which means she falls somewhere around third on his priority list.

Ardi sighs and leaves the phone on the kitchen counter to walk farther into their home.

She leans against the back of the turquoise leather sofa and runs her fingers across its grommet

details. Arden stares out of the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows along the far wall of the living area at

the impending sunset. The rays strike her brown eyes, making them glow a honeyed amber. She

stands stock-still, letting herself become one with the silence in the empty apartment.

Her approachable and somewhat offbeat style is evident throughout the space. The starkness of the

exposed brick and ductwork of the high ceilings is softened by the plush chairs and settees in shades

of coral, chartreuse, turquoise, and fuchsia.

An entire wall has been dedicated to family photos in frames of various shapes and sizes. Eclectic

chotskies live in every nook and cranny. Nothing matches, but everything coordinates. Their place has

character and warmth, just like her childhood home.

The Stones own the top two floors of the Fifth Avenue Lofts on Birmingham's Southside. They were the

first to move into the renovated building, and the owners had no problem with them turning the two

floors into a penthouse. The Stones' million dollar check, along with her father's name, might have

greased the wheels in that respect.

When they moved in four years ago, she had been concerned that a condo wouldn't be big enough for

them. Now she wants to eat her words. Their home is plenty big. Especially, since she spends a great

deal of time in its expanse alone. It's May, and summers have always left her with more than enough

time to herself. But soon the days will be just as long, no matter what the season.

Arden sweeps that thought under the rug and forces herself to get ready. She's reminded of the ache in

her neck and back with every step she takes to the bedroom. The end of a long day and all she needs

is a hot bath. It'll have to be a short one.

As she waits for the tub to fill, she collapses on the bed and stares at the dove-gray walls. She focuses

on the silver, crystal chandelier above the bed to keep her tired eyes from shutting her off from the

waking world. The rushing of water ceases in the next room, stalled by the automatic valve designed to

prevent an overflow. Ardi heaves herself from the comfort of their white and periwinkle bedding and into

the closet.

She undoes her emerald, a-line dress, and steps out of her floral flats. Her jewelry is returned to the felt

drawers of the built-in armoire in the center of the walk-in. Once she's disrobed and tied a scarf around

her hair, she closes the frosted glass doors that separate the closet from the bathroom. Arden adds

rosewater to the near scalding bath and slips her body into the water. A tiny wave is displaced as the

water envelopes her, spilling over the sides and onto the bank of smooth pebbles surrounding the

bathtub.

She washes the day off her skin, letting the torrid water permeate her pores. Arden turns on the jets,

and sinks lower into the basin. She rests her head on the lip of the tub, while a dozen tiny sprays pulse

against her aching muscles. As the tension in her back lessens, a jet near her feet creates a new

tension in her lower body.

Ardi adjusts to find just the right—“Ooh, shit. Right there.”

Having found the perfect position, she closes her eyes and allows the purifying surge to relieve the

frustration that's plaguing her. Arden expects her mind to manifest her husband's ruddy complexion, but

Casper's form materializes.

His hands draw near her in the haze of the humid bathroom. She succumbs to the phantasm's touch,

moaning her consent. Casper's ghost melds into her senses, leading her to the edge. The fogged

mirrors bear witness to her cerebral tryst, reflecting a distorted image of the pleasure and pain riddling

her sweet features. Arden grips the sides of the tub, as she's driven to the brink of insanity.

“Arden, honey, you home?” . . .

Casper's lips are making their way down Arden's neck on a direct path to her chest.

“Ardi?” . . .

His fingertips trace a trail of fire across her stomach. She bites down on her knuckle. Arden is too far

gone to hear the voice calling her name from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Where are you?” . . .

Casper's girth is between her legs, playing a sensual concerto. All her focus finds its way to her spot,

leaving her other senses out to dry. Where she's headed, she doesn't need them anyway. She moans

softly as delicate convulsions ravage her.

“Arden?”

Her head still raised to the ceiling, she mutters, “Fuck . . .”

The rush of cool air from the adjoining walk-in added to the side effects of her orgasm, have her

shuddering. For a moment she's forgotten her own name and the name of the man who is standing in

the doorway gawking at her.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Arden becomes aware of Elliott's presence and shuts off her aquatic lover. She blinks several times,

trying to will her body's return to its normal state.

“Elliott . . .” Her speech falters. She takes a deep breath. “When did you get in?”

He kneels beside the tub and holds her chin in his hand. “About the time you were sliding into home

plate.”

“Oh my, God.” Ardi sinks lower into the warm water.

“No need to be embarrassed.” Eli smiles and leans over to taste her lips. “Next time I'll be here to take

care of that for you.”

“I'll hold you to that,” she says with a smirk.

Elliott strips down and steps into the shower, while Arden scolds herself. Nice, Arden. Getting off to

another man just as your husband walks in the door. Very classy.

She collects her thoughts and pulls her body from the tub. Ardi wraps a towel around herself and slips

out of the wet air of the bathroom into the closet to get dry. She applies shea butter to her skin, and a

citrus vanilla musk to her pulse points, making herself smell good enough to eat.

While still in her undies, she paints her face. She creates a subdued shimmer on her lids with a bronze

shadow. Forgoing the falsies, she defines her lashes with black eyeliner and a couple of coats of

mascara. Arden chooses a deep red with hints of orange for her lips. A dusting of bronzer along her

cheeks and her makeup is done. Her hair is given a deep side part, before being swept into a low

chignon.

Arden hears the hairdryer on the other side of the double doors to the bath. Good. We might be on time

tonight.

All Eli has to do is run a little mousse through his hair, slap on some deodorant and cologne, then throw

on his clothes. She has yet to convince him to make lotion a regular part of his routine. Ardi is buttoning

up her tuxedo shirtdress when Elliott emerges with a towel draped around his waist.

“Have you selected my ensemble for the evening, darling?”

“I figure you can dress yourself tonight.”

“In that case . . .” He rips away his towel. “I'm ready to go.”

Arden laughs. “Unless you're looking to make a couple of dollars, I suggest you put that away.”

He hooks his hands behind his head and begins thrusting his hips like a Chippendale. “Cash and all

major credit cards are accepted.”

She shakes her head. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Crazy little thing called love.” Elliott becomes a version of Elvis and winks at her.

“It has to be.” Arden gives him a kiss, and a quick slap on the ass. “Put me down for a lap dance later.”

“I'll reserve the VIP section.”

They return to their respective sides of the walk-in to get dressed. Arden accents her petal-pink dress

with a coral matte belt, statement earrings, and a ring to match. She grabs a pair of cream two-tone

heels then takes a seat on the bed to slip them on.

Elliott appears, dressed in a burgundy velvet blazer, a white button-down, medium-wash jeans, and

brown oxfords. With his hair slicked back, he looks rather dapper.

“Not bad, Elliott Stone. Not bad at all.” She grins at him.

“Thank you, all me.” He does a spin for her. “I gave my stylist the night off.”

She applauds him. He picks up her other shoe and slides it on her foot. After he secures the strap

around her ankle, his fingers find their way up her leg. His hand flirts with the idea of lifting her silk

chiffon hem.

Arden leans down to caress his face. She tilts her head to kiss him, then pauses and raises an

eyebrow.

“You know we don't do quickies.” She launches from the bed.

“Touché, Mrs. Stone.” Eli catches her wrist and smiles. Getting to his feet, he steps in front of her. “I

must say, you do look incredible tonight.” His eyes run the height of her frame. “But you missed

something.”

“What?” She glances down at herself.

Elliott undoes three pearl buttons on her dress, exposing the lace trim of her bra. “Casper likes a little

more cleavage.”

Arden laughs and looks down at her shoes, then back up to smile at him. “Not so blind after all, are

you?”

“I'm not Ray Charles. But even he could have seen the way that guy looked at you.” Eli takes her hand.

“Can't blame him, though. Who could ignore these? ...” He kisses her lips. “These ...” He trails a finger

between her breasts. “And especially, this.” Grabbing her ass, he dips her backward, supporting her

weight on his left leg.

“That's not all there is to me.” She laughs. “Maybe he likes my personality.”

“Nah, you're not that interesting. Thank God, for your looks.”

“And thank goodness you're educated.” She strokes his cheek. “Only a mother could love this face.”

“See? There's that shining personality.” Elliott pulls her upright.

Arden stops at the door and gives him a smoldering look over her shoulder. “Come on. We can't be late

for my date.”

Elliott and Arden arrive at the Callaghan's home about fifteen minutes early. They approach the door

hand in hand and ring the doorbell. Seconds later Karma appears in the doorway looking like the

picture-perfect beauty queen.

“You're punctual. How polite,” Karma observes with a smile.

Her former dancer figure is draped in a navy, quarter-length sleeve dress with a high-low hem. She's

wearing a pair of black, studded booties and her eyes have been shrouded in a haze of metallic-gray

shadow. Arden wonders if Karma owns any clothes in less somber colors.

“This is for you.” Elliott hands a bottle of Chianti to Karma.

“And thoughtful.” Karma steps back and opens the door of her home to the Stones. “Come on inside.

Casper's in the great room.”

She closes the door behind them, then leads Arden and Elliott down the hallway into a room at the

back of the house.

The realtor who sold the Callaghans' house labeled this rather large space as the bonus room. A room

with no predetermined use which lends itself well to a fifty-two-inch, 3-D television, full wet bar, and a

collection of basketball memorabilia.

Lots of old leather, Cuban cigars, twenty-year-old scotch, and every gaming platform and tape of

Richard Pryor's stand-up has found its forever-home here. This is the one room in the entire house that

reflects Casper.

Arden and Elliott descend a couple of steps into the room. Casper pulls his attention from the game

coverage on the flat screen and greets their guests.

He shakes Eli's hand. “Nice to see you again, Elliott.”

“Likewise. Thanks for having us.”

Speaking of having . . .

Casper approaches Arden, takes both of her hands in his, and places a kiss on her cheek. “Arden, it's

a pleasure.”

A pleasure indeed . . .

His touch and the spice of his cologne makes her close her eyes to enjoy it. As images of her

encounter with Casper the Friendly Ghost in her bathtub come back to her, she pulls away from him.

“As are you, Casper.”

An awkward silence hangs in the air, while Casper's gaze lingers over the flustered Arden.

Karma steps between her husband and Ardi. She raises her eyebrow at him.

“Casper, why don't you make our guests a drink, while I go check on dinner?” She pats her palm

against his chest, before leaving the room.

He does as Karma asks and offers a beverage to Arden and Elliott. Casper opens a temperature-

controlled cabinet and produces a bottle of single malt scotch.

“Are you a scotch man, Elliott?”

“Whenever there's a good one up for grabs, yes.”

“Well, this one is old enough to drink itself.” He pours the whiskey into a tumbler for Eli and hands it to

him.

Arden declines Casper's offer of alcohol. He gets her a glass of ginger ale instead.

“Not a fan of hard liquor?” Casper asks her.

Ardi stares down at the pale, effervescent liquid in her glass. A cloud passes over her dark eyes. “Not a

fan of what it can do to people.”

Eli takes her hand and touches it to his lips. His way of apologizing for his unintentional insensitivity.

Though Arden has never made an issue of it, he tries not to drink anything stronger than wine around

her. Casper drops his hands to his sides and stares at Arden, a question on his tongue.

Karma sweeps back into the room, her crepe dress fluttering around her toned calves.

“Dinner is served, everyone.” She catches Arden's pained expression before it dissolves into a weak

smile. “Casper, have you managed to alienate our friends in the short span of fifteen minutes?”

“Oh no, Casper's been the perfect host,” Arden assures her. “It's me.”

“Is something wrong?” Casper takes a step closer, his hand extended towards her.

“I'm fine. Really.” Arden smiles, this one much more convincing than the first.

The others seem satisfied with her response and move the party into the dining room. Once they're all

seated, the Callaghans' personal chef serves the first course. They get to know each other better over

an antipasto spread of fresh garlic bread, tomato relish, and shrimp.

“Do you two have any other family here?” Arden asks.

“I'm an only child.” Karma pauses a second to refresh her drink. “My parents retired to Florida. But

most of Casper's family is here.”

“Yep. We have plenty of unannounced visits between my parents, and my younger brother's family.”

Casper chuckles.

“Those are good interruptions, though.” Karma smiles.

Casper asks about Eli's family. He explains that he's an only child as well, and his parents live near

Birmingham.

Arden's extended family of aunts, uncles, and cousins affords him the large family he dreamed of as a

child. Her older brother, Adam, is like his own sibling. When Elliott gets the chance, he enjoys being

with her family even more than she does.

“Sometimes, I regret that my parents stopped at one.” Eli shares with a wishful smirk.

Karma nudges his hand. “Hey, why mess with perfection. Right?”

“Right.” He grins and the two toast.

The table is cleared to make way for the grilled pork loin and spiced carrots with a brown sugar glaze.

Casper opens the bottle of Chianti and shoots Arden a look. She nods at him. His consideration makes

her smile.

“How did you two meet?” Elliott asks, gesturing to Karma and Casper.

“We were high school sweethearts.” Karma rolls her eyes. “He was a lot better looking back then.” NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

That seems impossible. How could he be any more attractive? Arden leers at Casper, watching his

seductive lips like a perverted voyeur.

“And she was more of a sweetheart.”

“Oh, stop fawning over each other,” Elliott teases.

Casper takes a sip of his wine and shrugs. “She loves me.”

“That's still undecided.” Karma sighs. “Anyway, how did you and Arden get together?”

“We were lab partners in an Advanced Biology course back in college. She was a freshman and I was

a first-year grad student.” He glances at Arden and smirks. “She wouldn't give me her number. So I

stole her book, and held it for ransom until she agreed to have coffee with me.”

“He tore pages out of it, highlighted words from the text to spell out nerdy love notes, and left them in

my notebook. It was very disturbing and sweet.” Arden laughs, grinning at Eli. “Blackmail and extortion

just do it for me, I guess.”

“So he stalked you.” Karma scoffs, shaking her head at Elliott. “You could have caught a case, man."

“Worth the risk.” Eli squeezes Ardi's knee. “Though, I did get a little worried, when I realized her father

was Senator Mitchell.”

Arden groans to herself. Her father's political career is not her favorite topic. Politics tends to divide

people with the strongest of bonds. It's not the safest discussion for getting to know someone.

But it is often a good indicator of how genuine a person's interest is with Arden. There are those who

think she might be a useful stepping stone to their own ambitious goals. She isn't sure if her present

company, namely Karma, has any grand plans for this new friendship.

“Former Alabama senator, Mitchell?” Casper asks, his brow raised.

Elliott nods.

“You were a brave one.”

“He just appears to be a hard ass.” Eli shrugs.

“How was it being the daughter of a senator?” Karma eyes Arden with a renewed interest.

The greedy look in her eyes answers Arden's earlier suspicions of her motives.

“He was elected when I was sixteen. So, I didn't date much. Every boy was afraid he could have him

arrested.”

They all laugh and wait to hang onto Arden's every word. However, Ardi doesn't elaborate. And if

asked, she still won't.

To Arden's relief, the subject of her father is a distant memory throughout the remainder of the main

course and dessert.

After dinner, they retire to the great room again to peruse Casper's collection of vinyl records. Casper

pulls an album from the shelf and flips the vinyl onto the record player. With a gentle touch, he places

the needle over the record. Soon the walls are filled with Earth, Wind & Fire's “After The Love Has

Gone.”

Casper does a backward two-step away from the cherry wood built-ins that house his music collection.

“Oldie but goody.” Smiling and snapping his fingers, he asks Karma to dance.

“You can embarrass yourself without my help,” Karma says, sipping her drink.

Unfazed, Casper shrugs and saunters over to where Arden is sitting. She looks up at him with

butterflies fluttering in her stomach, waiting for him to ask her.

“Elliott, may I have the honor of a dance with your wife?” He's speaking to Eli. But doesn't take his eyes

off Ardi.

“As long as you promise to bring her back.” Eli smiles. Arden looks over at him, and he waves her on.

She takes Casper's hand, and he proceeds to dazzle her with how light he is on his feet. His hand on

her back and her hand in his feels nice. It feels right. And it shouldn't. It can't. Casper holds her a little

closer, and she finds herself thankful that the sheer chiffon of her dress allows the heat of his touch to

be felt. Ardi begins to panic.

He's beautiful. His voice is pure sex. He has impeccable taste in music. And on top of all that, he's a

great dancer. She isn't strong enough for this.

Before Arden has a chance to buckle, Karma suggests that the four of them take a tour of the house.

Casper agrees and Arden and Elliott follow them from room to room of the expansive house.

Ardi hangs onto Eli's arm, trying to steady her weakened knees. Casper takes every opportunity to

squeeze past Arden in the hallways. She prays for strength until the tour—and her torture—comes to

an end.

Arden and Elliott thank the Callaghans for their hospitality and head home. They are taking the elevator

up from the covered parking garage of their building when Elliott turns to her.

“I should have refused the drink. I'm sorry, I didn't think.” Eli's baby blues beg her for forgiveness.

“Don't be silly.” She hooks her arm around his and rests her head on his shoulder. “That would have

been rude.”

“Is that your excuse for dancing with him?”

Arden's breath catches in her throat and she lifts her head, guilt building in her gut.

Elliott laughs. “I'm only kidding, honey."

She pushes his shoulder. "Don't play with me.”

They exit the elevator in the lobby of the building. Arden walks ahead, and Elliott grabs for her hand.

She pulls away.

He steps in her path. “You mad at me now?”

Arden smirks and turns her head.

“Not talking, huh?” He shrugs. “All right, have it your way.”

He hoists her over his shoulder and carries her across the polished concrete floor of the lobby to the

resident elevators.

The spectacle gets the attention of the concierge, Edward. “He kidnapping you again, Mrs. Stone?”

Arden lifts her head to answer him. “It's the only way he can get me to go home with him.”

Elliott pumps his shoulder, making her body jump, as she and Edward laugh.

In their apartment, Eli throws her on the bed and takes off her shoes. Slipping out of his own shoes, he

climbs onto the bed and kisses her, undoing the buttons on her dress.

The exhaustion from earlier in the day creeps up on her again, and she yawns.

“Am I boring you?” He stops kissing her neck and smirks.

“No, baby. That ...” Another yawn, longer than the first. “That feels ... good.”

“Oh, yeah. Talk dirty to me,” Eli says, full of sarcasm.

“Uh-huh.” Her eyes close, and her head lolls to one side.

Laughing to himself, he gets her undressed, with very little help from her. He turns down the sheets and

tucks her into their fluff.

“Goodnight, sleeping beauty.” He kisses her temple, and snuggles in beside her, placing his arm

around her waist.

Not long after drifting off to sleep, Arden awakes to Elliott's gentle nudging. Still in a fog, she asks him

what's wrong.

“You're talking in your sleep.” He leans his left arm over her. His blonde tendrils stick out from his head

at odd angles. “Well, writhing in your sleep is more like it.”

“I'm sorry. Guess I'm having trouble sleeping.” Ardi runs her hand over her hair. She twists, trying to

untangle herself from a web of damp cotton. The sheets are clinging to her moist skin.

“I'm sure you are.” Eli kisses her forehead, then turns onto his side with his back to her. “Doesn't sound

like Casper is giving you much time to rest over there.”

Shit . . .