Chapter 3

With her mass of curly hair wound up on top of her head, Ephie Moreau logged into her client's website and began working on the updates they'd requested. She had three websites to update today, and once that was done, she would immediately return to the new website she was building.

She tugged at her T-shirt. It was a little smaller than she would have liked and not one of her favorites, but she needed to do laundry.

There was no real timetable for completion on the new website, as it was a volunteer project she was doing for one of the local cat rescues. Even so, she felt an internal pressure to finish it and have it up and running as soon as possible.

The sooner that could happen, the sooner more cats could find their forever homes. She was designing the site so that each available cat could have their picture and bio posted. Anyone interested would be able to click through to an information form and even set an appointment to come visit the cat in question. She thought that would help tremendously.

People shopped for everything online. Why not let them shop for a pet that way, too?

Made sense to her. Adoption was the way to go.

Although that wasn't how she'd ended up with her cat. Jean-Luc Beauvoir had chosen her. Sometimes it happened like that.

Well, maybe not for most people. But then, most people probably didn't spend as much time in cemeteries as she did. And even if they did, they had probably never befriended an animal like Jean-Luc Beauvoir.

Jean-Luc was indeed a very special creature.

She frowned as she scanned the apartment for him. Where was he? Usually by now he was on her desk, trying to bat a pen off or something. She had started her day a little earlier than usual. Maybe he was still curled up on the bed. "Jean-Luc? Bebe, where are you?"

A little trilling meow answered her, and Jean-Luc came trotting sleepy-eyed out of the bedroom.

Ephie grinned. "There you are, my love."

He jumped up onto her desk, which was actually a door blank supported by two sawhorses painted black. Not fancy but cheap and spacious. He landed on her computer, but it didn't matter. Jean-Luc was as light as a feather.

Lighter, probably. In fact, she wasn't sure he truly weighed a thing. After all, he was a ghost.

He had form and shape but no substance, unless he materialized. He seemed to be able to control that, enough that he could bump his head against her hand or leg and she could feel it. Some nights, he'd curl up on her pillow or tuck against her back, his weight and presence as real as any other creature.

But he could walk through walls when he wanted to. When she showered, he often stuck his head right through the curtain to meow at her.

The first time he'd done that, she'd nearly had a heart attack.

It was all for attention, because unlike any living animal, he didn't require food or water. He had no need for a litter box, either.

So while he could appear solid at will, at the moment, he was in his usual state of translucency. Her little ghost cat. She loved him regardless of his quirks. Maybe even a little more because of them.

He was genuinely the ideal animal companion.

"Pets?"

He materialized, his way of saying yes.

She scratched under his chin. He stretched toward her, his head going up as his eyes closed. A low, grumbly purr emanated out of him. She leaned forward and kissed his head. He was so soft. Sometimes, it made her sad that he was just a ghost. She would have loved to have found him sooner.

It made her sad to think about what had caused him to become a ghost, too. But at least he'd be with her forever. "I love you, bebe."

She scratched him a little more. "Now, I have to get back to work. Sorry, mon petit bout." Her grandmother had called her that when she was little. Now Ephie used it for Jean-Luc when he was being particularly cute. Which was pretty much always.

He jumped down and went to lie down in a ray of sun coming through the living room windows. She wouldn't have thought a ghost could feel heat or cold, but he definitely liked lying in the sun, so he must be able to feel those things.

Unless that was just a habit from his previous life?

She shrugged, sipped her coffee, which was rapidly growing cold, and went back to work. She turned on some working tunes, just soft instrumental beats meant to help improve focus and productivity.

One by one, she knocked out the changes her client had asked for, all while tracking her billable hours. As soon as they were done, she sent him a note to have a look and approve the work or let her know if there were any other changes.

Once that email was sent, she prepped an invoice, then went to work on the next client's changes.

She kept at it, stopping for more coffee and a bathroom break, but by lunch, she'd sent the first invoice. One more approval and she'd send the next one. Her last client had requested not only updates but a new page for a product they were about to launch.

She built a preliminary page, sent the client an email to have them look at it, then went to get herself some lunch. Nothing much. Soup and half a sandwich made with what little remained of the chicken salad she'd bought from the deli down the street.

First, though, she put a load of laundry into her stack unit and got that going. Otherwise, she'd be scraping the bottom of the closet for something to wear tomorrow.

Washer started, she got a can of soup out of the cabinet and fetched the can opener from a nearby drawer.

Hopefully, she'd soon be able to work on the rescue's website. The three paying jobs would take care of her bills. She wasn't rich, but she did all right. She'd bought this apartment two years ago with a little help from her mom on the down payment, which she'd been paying off ever since.

She owned her car, although it was nothing spectacular. Her bills were always paid on time, and with careful planning, she managed to put a little away each month. There was no man in her life, but she didn't need one, either.

Building the rescue's site was her way of giving back. And honoring Jean-Luc's life.

She emptied the can of vegetable soup into a big bowl with a handle, added a can of water, and stirred. Then she cupped the pottery bowl in her hands and used her unique skills to bring it to temperature. In seconds, it started to boil.

Okay, that was a little too hot. Her gifts were tricky things. Difficult to control. Sometimes stronger than she wanted them to be, sometimes much weaker. It was easier just to use them for simple things that didn't matter too much. The idea that she might accidentally hurt someone was enough to quell her desire to practice.

Her grandmother claimed practice would help, but Ephie didn't want to risk it. Besides, she worked constantly. Any free time was spent decompressing in front of the television or going out for walks with Jean-Luc. He loved a good walk. Mostly he loved to roll in the grass or chase a squirrel.

She left the soup to cool down a bit and made her sandwich. Jean-Luc wound around her legs, drawn by the smell of food, no doubt.

He couldn't eat any, but he definitely liked to smell it.

She took her food back to her desk to eat. Jean-Luc joined her, curling up on an empty spot next to her laptop. She checked email to see if her clients had responded. The second one had, giving her the thumbs-up that all was well and he was happy.

She thanked him, then sent that invoice.

There was another email in her inbox to deal with. She clicked on it and found it was from a prospective client. A restaurant in the French Quarter looking to revamp their image to go along with the renovation they were doing with the building and their general direction. They were even changing the restaurant's name.

She loved the idea of a fresh start and was always happy to take on new business. She sent them a note saying she was interested and to see when they could meet. She preferred an in-person meeting at the beginning.

It helped her clients to see her as a real person, not just someone behind a keyboard. It also helped her get a sense of what the business was like. That went a long way toward creating a website that accurately depicted the business. Every place had its own vibe. Cool, hip, trendy, classy, retro—whatever the case, experiencing it firsthand always made a difference.

With all pressing correspondence out of the way, she pulled up the file for the rescue's website and got to work. Doing this kind of thing meant a lot to her. She loved animals, and she loved helping.

People were all right, but there were so many strange ones out there. Living in New Orleans didn't help that, because it was full of odd people, but the city was her home, and, for the most part, it was nice.

She just preferred her own company. And Jean-Luc's, of course.

In a way, she supposed she was the perfect representation of the crazy cat lady. She might only have one, but he was a ghost and she was a witch, so how much crazier could that be?

She preferred to think of Jean-Luc as her familiar. He'd never helped with any of her magic, which would have been nice, but he'd never hindered it, either, and the title felt like a promotion from pet. Not that she'd ever introduced him to anyone other than her mother, and her mother, bless her heart, couldn't see Jean-Luc no matter how hard she tried.

To be honest, she wasn't sure her mother even believed Jean-Luc was real.

But that was all right. He was allowed to show himself or not to whomever he liked. His prerogative. And just another one of his selective abilities, Ephie figured.

She glanced at him. Now deep in sleep, he was barely visible. Sometimes, he disappeared entirely, but she could usually find him by listening for the quiet little snores he made. He was making them now. Dreaming of his former life maybe?

"Such a sweet boy," she whispered.

His whiskers twitched.

With a smile, she typed away, building the pages necessary to make the new website everything it needed to be. And something she could be proud of, too.

Because if she wasn't helping make the world a better place, then what was the point?