He looks at you like you’re crème brûlée.

She had yet to actually call him by his real name. The psychologist in him had all kinds of theories as to why. The man in him wanted to hear her say it. Just once.

Maybe pulling her emotions out and inserting in his logic would change this morbid course. But damn if he’d joke about it like she did.

It took a pair of ghosts to open my eyes.

At least that left hope for him. Except "Beauty and the Geek" wasn’t exactly the proper translation of the popular fairy tale.

Calm down. Ghosts don’t ring the doorbell.

This was sharing office space with wacko and bordering on ludicrous.

Before she knew it, she was just another set of eyes in a dusty attic, waiting for the stairs to creak.