The ghost of you

Part one:

My life with you

Chapter 1

Stefan Castle

I'm late, I'm fully aware of that, so I hurry to open the door of the building, which will lead me to my office. But of course, fate can smell fear, because the keys slip from my hands and end up on the floor. I curse my fate out loud, full of frustration.

I carry with me my briefcase, full of papers and life sheets that I must organize later, to be able to interview candidates applying for the position of a broadcaster. Also, inside a box, clutched tightly between my arms, I carry some new microphones to replace the old equipment in one of the music recording booths. I’m the happy owner of a radio station, and this is basically my day-after-day thing.

I bend down with great difficulty to pick up the set of keys that are mocking me. I sharpen one of my elbows on the wooden surface, so I can keep my balance. And just when I'm about to grab the keys, someone opens the door, on which I'm leaning. That causes me to fall face down on the floor, and my briefcase rolls into the place, but I manage to save the microphones, holding the box, on top of my wounded skull. Those crafty little things tend to break down with the slightest brush of a feather.

-You're late, -says Kate, my assistant, with a scolding tone. She watches me from above, her expression says she is going to kill me and get out in freedom. Her hands are on her hips, and one of her shoes hits the floor next to me, repeatedly, emphasizing her annoyance.

-Good morning to you too, -I reply with good cheer, though I'm still lying with my stomach on the floor, like a pathetic slug.

-Stefan, you were supposed to be here at half past eight in the morning, it's ten o'clock and there's an endless line of candidates you have to interview. - As she says each of those words, she helps me up off the floor. She even picks up my keys.

-I know, but I had to go get these beautiful babies, - I add, pointing to the box still residing in my hands.

-Anyway, hurry to your office, I'll send you the candidates one by one. You'd better have the resumes I emailed you over the weekend ready.

-Yes, I have them, -I said indignant, for their lack of trust in me. -Trust me, okay? -She rolls her eyes, and I nod happily. -Thank you, Kate, -I say, obviously with a hint of sarcasm, then place a soothing kiss on her forehead. -You're the best secretary, -I laugh, hiding my amusement. She hates being called a secretary.

-Assistant! Assistant! Is that too hard to say? -she grumbles as she walks away from me, picking up my briefcase as it passes her, on the side.

I march behind her, waving to some of my staff. I touch the glass of one of the booths and greet Martin, an old broadcaster who is retiring next week, and for that reason, I'm doing interviews, I need a replacement to fill the position he left behind. As I said before, I am the owner and general manager of a small local radio station, although lately, I have been able to grow it, turning it into a music recording studio. Castle Music FM, is my life, and for an inexperienced young man in his early twenties, what I have accomplished is more than enough.

I quickly make my way down the narrow hallway to my office. It's a bit of a mess, although Kate has tried to put everything in its place, which I hate because now I can find absolutely nothing. In my mess, there is always a perfect system. I sit behind my desk, rolling the stupid water plant my assistant insists on putting on the table at an angle that distracts my view.

I activate the intercom, letting her know that I am ready to receive the first candidate.

A few seconds later someone knocks on the door and I ask to come in. It is a man in his thirties, who is surprised to see me, in his personal opinion, I am too young to be the owner of a company, no matter how small it is. I tell him that there is no set age to fulfill dreams. And so, we begin our business conversation.

Three hours later I am so bored and my muscles are so tight, I just want to run away from here. I don't consider that I have found the perfect candidate. But I still have one more person to interview. Her name is Audrey Jacobs, she has no photo, but the data on her resume, although very accurate, does not capture my attention, because the girl is very young, only eighteen years old, and has no work experience. Only for been polite I send her in, so that the poor girl doesn't feel that she wasted her time, although it's hard for me not to think that I shouldn't waste mine.

After a timid knocking at the entrance, the woman enters the room. Then the world stops around me. I've never believed in love at first sight, but I can't name the thread of electricity that runs through my body as soon as I lay eyes on Audrey Jacobs. I stand abruptly, jumping out of my seat and she doesn't notice, she's focused on examining my office. That gives me time to inspect her fully.

She's tall, but no taller than me, she must be five foot seven, though she's wearing leather boots, with a heel of at least six or ten centimeters, which make her look svelte, leaving her at least five foot eight. Her light brown, almost blonde hair is tied in a professional ponytail, is straight, and two unruly locks escape from her hairstyle. Her skin color is light, very pale, but not in a sickly way, it looks like porcelain, a work of art I'm dying to touch. Her lips are full, she has a snub nose, but beautiful, big green eyes, and the most charming smile I've ever seen.

Her body could be any man's downfall, she is not thin, on the contrary, she has a few extra pounds, but her waist is narrow, her ass is perky, and her breasts look heavy, not to say huge, or better, very well proportioned…

I could give myself up to all those curves and die happy. The black pants tighten around her legs, giving me the most erotic thoughts. While the buttons of her white shirt, threaten to pop off in different directions.

-Nice to meet you, my name is Audrey Jacobs, -she says smiling.

My member jumps in my pants, if the woman is beautiful, there is no description of her melodious voice. I'm sure she's part of a choir of angels. Audrey's voice could weaken an entire nation, just as my legs are shaking at this very moment.

-Stefan Castle, -I say nervously and shake the outstretched female hand in my path after she stares at me waiting for an answer. I gladly accept it, her touch making my skin crawl. I clear my throat and ask her to sit down. How I would love to ask her to sit on my lap, but that would be unprofessional. So, I go about conducting her interview, with a constant discomfort gripping my crotch.

***

Audrey Jacobs

The heel of my right boot makes a quiet clicking noise on the cement floor. The man next to me gives me a judging look, and how could he not? I am the youngest of all the people waiting to be interviewed. I'm only eighteen, just turned eighteen. I'm still a teenager, although I've felt like an adult for a long time now. Sometimes life forces you to mature earlier than expected.

I'm not long out of high school, and the reason I'm looking for a job at Castle Music is that I have no desire to starve. I was raised by my grandmother, a very strict woman, who was disappointed not to have a size zero granddaughter. I had a more or less stable life until she passed away when I turned sixteen. The state granted me emancipation, and since then I have managed to survive on my own, but I need another job, one that pays the bills and that I can survive on, which is why I want to finally find myself in the right company. Also, a few months ago I graduated from a speech course and would very much like to start a career based on this.

I force myself to stop the nervousness in my legs because I think the rest of my companions are about to strangle me if I don't stop moving. We are sitting on a row of wooden benches, right in the main hall of the place.

As we enter the building you can tell it's a bohemian, two-story complex, covered in small gray blocks. Once inside, delightful air conditioning welcomes you. To the right is a desk of the same color as the rest of the building, a light wood. The walls are of the same cement material, only here inside the bricks are painted black. The floor is also made of wood, but of a dark color, which seems to predominate in all the decoration. Except for the furniture, which seems to be built with Birch, I worked in a hardware store for a while, so I can distinguish some materials. That style of woodwork is perfect to break up the somber look of the place.

Behind the reception desk is Kate, the woman who welcomed us. She's short, at least five foot six, maybe she's not that short in height, but I'm too tall, always have been and I've never liked it. I go back to the receptionist, she is brunette and has black, curly hair, she wears it loose and looks beautiful. She is slim and I'm sure she has hundreds of men begging at her feet. She has a grim, concentrated expression as she calls out the candidates. I feel her watching me, so I look away, focusing on the TV in front of me.

On the left side of the room, some waiting benches are arranged, they are low, but very comfortable and elegant. It is a kind of waiting room, somewhat small. For entertainment it has a screen fixed to a metal tube support, they are transmitting an animal channel. From the walls hang some pictures of paintings, all have to do with music and the predominant colors are light. And you can also appreciate some local awards, such as the best night radio program.

The whole space looks very aesthetically pleasing, clean, and professional. I hope I can stay here. I've had a few part-time jobs since my grandmother died. All to be able to pay for the rest of my schooling. But most of the time they decide to get rid of me, so I have to start from scratch, over and over again. I need to find better stability, or soon I'll be living on the street. The nervous twitch in my leg returns to the attack, I am thankful that my stern companion is no longer there.

It's been three hours since the boss arrived, or so I hear, I was a little late, which put me last on the waiting list. Sometimes it's good to be last in some things. The impression you leave tends to last longer than the impression left by the first applicants. Although, of course, that doesn't apply to triathlon or any specific race. I take a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts, which, as usual, are all over the place.

-Miss Jacobs, -Kate calls, -You can step into Mr. Castle's office, -she says, calmly.

I turn from side to side, finding myself alone in the middle of the living room, I hadn't noticed until now that the rest of the candidates had exhausted themselves. I quickly stand up and smooth out the white dress shirt I'm wearing. I now think it was a bad decision because the small buttons barely contain my chest, the disadvantage of having overly large breasts, which I absolutely hate. In my defense, it was the only "professional", and decent, shirt in my closet.

I take a few steps into the hallway leading to the recording area. Kate directs me to knock on the second door on the right. The one with the gray paint, she adds. I nod and follow her directions. I stop in front of this one, very nervous, I haven't had a job interview in a while, I wish I was more prepared because I really need this job. I turn sideways. I notice that at the end of the hallway, there is an emergency exit. I also notice several extra rooms, where I'm sure the call room and recording studios are located. I know that Castle Music is making its debut in the world of music recording.

I pray to the heavens, if anyone is listening, to help me have the right answers for the CEO of the company. I stretch the limbs of my body a little, to be able to release all the tension. Then I raise my hand and knock twice on the door in front of me. A male voice tells me that I can enter. I obey, fidgeting, like a child in an ice cream parlor. I swallow thickly as soon as I cross the threshold.

Mr. Castle's office does not clash with the rest of the place. The wall covering is divided in two, the top half is lined with gray wallpaper, while the other half is tiled in black, the predominant tone around here, and the overall environment is very masculine.

There is a fluffy carpet decorating the floor, the pattern appears to be stained, and the shades are as I mentioned, as they are throughout the building. I like the chandelier hanging over the CEO's desk, it is gold, and several bulbs hang from a perfect "X". The sockets are colored...guess what? Black.

I focus on the desk which is made of wood, it has an elongated shape, with several decorative separations, and it looks like a box. There is a blue vase, containing a water plant, placed in the right corner, or at least from my perspective it is the right one, that breaks with the dark tones. Behind this, you can see two shelves, inserted into two open spaces in the wall. In the middle of them, is a beautiful picture of a record player. The chairs are leather and wood.

After my brief but detailed inspection of the whole place, my eyes fall on the most beautiful man I have ever seen. No exaggeration whatsoever. He is standing, watching me curiously. He is tall, at least six feet tall. White skin, curly, light brown hair, a charming smile, and his eyes... they are heaven, because of their blue color, and also because of the sparkle in his pupils, and the way his long eyelashes dance in front of them, the fluttering of his long eyelashes leaving me dazzled. I must be dreaming, because I only meet guys like that in my wildest dreams.

Audrey concentrate, it's true he looks gorgeous, but you have to be professional. I say to myself, scolding myself to get out of my stupor.

-Nice to meet you, my name is Audrey Jacobs, -I say, extending my hand, with an animated smile. He blinks a couple of times, looks at my hand then at my face as if he doesn't understand what's going on.

-Stefan Castle, -he says finally, as he seems to come to. He shakes my hand, and an electric current run through my body. It also seems to affect him, because a small gasp leaves his lips.

That throws me off, a little. I review my appearance, which I consider not too bad. Until I think about the lousy fat balls hanging from my chest, which press the buttons of my shirt outward. I inhale in frustration; I should have worn a different shirt. I could be giving the wrong impression and I don't want that. He asks me to sit down and I do. His eyes seem to be reading my soul because they are so intense that I get lost in them.

I mimic him and make a throat-clearing sound. I must step on land, a man as handsome as Stefan Castle, will never notice a chubby woman like me. He's way out of my league. I'd have to be born again to date a Greek God like this. I have to maintain a professional facade.

We both stare at each other for a few seconds. I laugh because he looks self-absorbed, and that has never happened to me with a person of the opposite sex.

-Are you going to ask me any questions? -I dare to say.

-Oh, yes, of course! -he says hurriedly. I see him open a folder left on his desk. I assume it contains my personal information.

He reads a few lines and I wait. It doesn't take too long; I know the lack of work experience on my resume. When he turns his attention back to me, my legs shake, even though I'm sitting down.

- Tell me about yourself, -he says bluntly.

-Well, I'm eighteen years old, I graduated from high school a year ago, and I immediately started a speech course at the Federico Brandt School of Visual Arts. Who is implementing new classes related to the arts -I paused for a second, evaluating what my next words would be, I know I have to impress him, but I am also aware of my reality, and that is that I don't have any professional practices-. To tell you the truth, Mr. Castle, I don't have much experience in the area of voice-over, more than that degree, but I am in a hurry and I really want to create a path for myself in this industry, I want to make a career in voice-over and I need the money to be able to afford it -besides being able to pay my bills and bring food to my table-. It will sound crazy what I am going to tell you, but if you give me the opportunity to start my career in your company, you will never regret it, I will do my best to be the best I can be.

I wait for his answer, but it doesn't come for at least two minutes, a long silence, and a little uncomfortable for me. Not so much for him, though, because he has a strange smile on his lips and keeps looking at my face. I wonder if I have something. Maybe I got a chocolate stain, from the sweet croissant I had for breakfast, and that's why he's looking at me like that. Or I just didn't properly outline one of my eyes. I don't know, but his gaze has me intrigued and uneasy.

-Is there something on my face? -I can't resist asking, one of my faults is that I tend to say the first thing that pops into my head.

- No, -he exclaims quickly-. I'm sorry, it's just that I find myself distracted by your presence.

-What? -I laugh like a silly teenager... Well teenager I am, although I don't think of myself that way, I'm just being delusional. But I find myself completely surprised by his words, no one has ever found themselves distracted by me, unless it's to point out that I'm too overweight.

-Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful voice? -he says, giving me an intrigued look.

-No, -I admit. I think my cheeks have flushed because my face it’s burning.

-Well, you do, it's like listening to the lead voice of a choir of angels, -he says determinedly.

I laugh so hard that a horrible sound, similar to the squeal of a piglet leaves my nose. I immediately cover it, embarrassed by my childish behavior. He just laughs in amusement, while his blue eyes sparkle with impudence. Is he flirting with me? Could a man like this really notice me? No way.

-I'll tell you something, -he begins, -I know you're very young, I know you have no professional experience, but your voice has me completely captivated, I'd like us to do some tests in the recording booth, what do you think? That way I can decide if I should take a chance with you, and hire you -he stands up, with a joyful jump.

-Right now? -I asked, perplexed.

-Yes, there's no better time than the present.

His amused attitude could infect even the most serious of human beings.

-Okay, -I agreed.

He walks towards me and offers me a hand to help me stand up. I accept it because I want to touch him again, in fact, I would like to touch him in other parts, but I must discard that way of thought. When he pulls me out of the chair, inertia causes me to crash against his chest, he grabs my hips, steadying my body, because I was about to fall backward. We're so close to each other, our breaths swirling in the middle of each other. I swallow thickly, every hair on my body standing on end, having him so close... It makes me want to stand on my tiptoes and reach for his lips…

Shit, Audrey! Control yourself, I mentally scream at myself. You're not a child to be thinking bullshit.

I gently push him away and pull out of his iron grip. I think I hear him gasp.

-Come on, I'll show you around, -he adds, calmly. He points in the direction of the exit, and I start walking toward it, hoping no one notices the blush that runs through me. I came here looking for a job, not a lover, I have told that myself over and over again since I saw his face.

Chapter 2

Stefan

After Audrey and I left my office, I dedicate myself to giving her a little tour of the place, showing her all the spaces in the building, and explaining the recording process we have and our way of working. Doing my best to forget the feeling that ran through every nerve in my body as soon as I had her in my arms… I was dying to kiss her.

But what kind of crazy guy kisses a woman he just met? That would be very unprofessional of me, and it would be very, very wrong. So, I restrain myself by doing my best to control my primitive urges.

I introduce her to several employees, who are stunned by the sweet tone of voice this woman has, well apparently, I'm not the only one who is mesmerized by it. We finish our tour in one of the recording rooms, where, after preparing all the equipment and greeting one of my employees, I invite the girl to stand behind the booth to read some lines from one of my favorite books.

I can't take my eye