Shiver / Private Sessions. Jo Leigh

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СКАЧАТЬ would take was a little Google action, and he’d discover her secret identity. She wrote under the name Carrie Price, but Price was her mom’s maiden name, and it wasn’t exactly a state secret.

      She turned over and socked her pillow a few times, then tried to get comfortable. Fat chance.

      Hell, maybe he’d understand. He was a New Yorker, for god’s sake. Just because he believed that ghosts were real didn’t mean he had no sense of humor. He was probably used to people making fun of him. Film people were notoriously cynical, right?

      Crap. Even if he did get made fun of, he wouldn’t want to sleep with someone who openly disparaged his beliefs. That would be like her sleeping with someone who thought graphic novels weren’t real books.

      Worse. Because a lot of people didn’t know squat about graphic novels. As far as the supernatural went, she was in the minority. A huge percentage of the world believed not only in life after death, but also ghosts and reincarnation and angels and demons. Most folks didn’t go a day without relying on something that couldn’t be scientifically proven. It was the norm, and she was the weirdo.

      Nothing new there. She was used to being the odd woman out. She just wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

      The only thing she had going for her was that he thought she was hot. It was right there all over his face. The way he looked at her? Oh, yeah. He wanted some vacation action.

      Her smile fell. It was the first night in far too many nights that she hadn’t fallen asleep thinking about Armand. Was her attraction to Sam nothing but rebound lust?

      After giving that a moment’s ponder, she turned over one more time. So what if it was? In fact, rebound lust was the whole damn point.

      AT TEN TO FOUR IT WAS almost time for the first official event of the day. It, like all their indoor meetings, would be held in the ballroom. Sam had spent the morning with the buyers who continued to make nice noises without saying anything definitive, and left them in Beverly’s capable hands for a tour of the stables, the barn and the back fields. Sam had come to supervise the pumpkin-carving contest, which would be loud and messy, but fun. At least, that was the plan.

      He wished he’d slept better. Thoughts of his conversation with Carrie had kept him up long after he’d hit the sheets. He’d dissected every word and come up with fifty different interpretations of what had gone down. He’d concluded he hadn’t completely blown his chances.

      Naturally, he’d looked for her everywhere. At breakfast, although she’d be nuts to come down at eight after her night, in the ballroom, even in the kitchen. He’d been hopeful when they’d gone to the bar to grab lunch, but no go.

      After that, Sam had taken Heartly and Mori into Crider City. The trip couldn’t have been timed more perfectly, as there were four buses parked at the IHOP and tons of tourists wandering through the decorated town. In Crider, Halloween was as big a deal as Christmas. The local legends about hauntings weren’t restricted to the hotel property, but had propagated all through the town. Most probably made up over a beer or two and carefully seeded across Colorado and beyond.

      Instead of garlands of pine hanging over Main Street, there were flying witches and cut-out ghosts. Every window had some festive painted depiction of something mildly ghoulish, although appropriate for children. Some stores, like the Gift Emporium, went nuts.

      Heartly and Mori resisted buying any ghost-related souvenirs, walked the length of Main and back, then Sam had returned them to the Inn. Mori had fallen asleep on the short ride, but neither he nor Heartly mentioned it.

      “Sam?”

      It was Wendy, one of the part-timers who was helping with the room setup.

      “Yeah?”

      “Are we only doing the one prize? “

      “Why, do you think we should do more?”

      “I think there are gonna be kids here, not many, but enough that we should do something about it.”

      He gave it some thought as his gaze caught on the wheelbarrow of pumpkins teetering as it was brought down the center aisle. “After everyone’s here, take a head count of anyone under eighteen and make a note of the little kids, although I don’t think they’ll be many. Pick out gifts for all of them, and charge them to the party.”

      The way she smiled at him was a little surprising. Although he didn’t know her that well. So far, she’d been a reliable worker, someone who didn’t complain about filling in with double shifts. She probably just liked the idea of looting the gift shop.

      His attention went back to the pumpkins. They were being stacked in front of the stage, on two levels, some on the carpet, some on bales of hay. The tables had been equipped with multicolored markers, stencils, ice-cream scoops for the innards, big bowls and lots of paper towels. Of course, each table was covered in thick plastic and paper, and the rules of the contest were in block letters, posted on four walls. Even so, he would read them aloud before the competition got started.

      The monitors were on stage, still recording evidence of the supernatural, but during the contest itself, there would be music of the Halloween kind piped in. The food table wasn’t festooned with prize-winning pastries, but it was certainly cheerful. Punch and fruit and too many candy treats, all holiday themed, would please guests of any age. The two bars were in the process of being stocked.

      The rules were pretty simple. All cutting into pumpkins was done by a staff member. All participants, either as individuals or teams, drew their design on a pumpkin. At the end of the evening, the crowd voted on the winner. Not only did the winner receive an in-room massage, but their pumpkin would also be featured in the Crider City newspaper on the front page.

      He heard Jody’s voice behind him and when he turned, she was pushing a cart that carried her pumpkin creations. They were so expertly crafted and clever they should have been displayed in a gallery.

      Sam went to help her set up. Dry ice swirled in the corner just under the table and around Jody’s feet.

      “I heard you were all over the place with the buyers this morning.” She kept her voice low as she placed the first pumpkin.

      “Yeah. They couldn’t stop talking about last night’s meal, though.”

      “That was the plan. By the time Heartly leaves, he’s never going to forget my name, or my cooking.”

      “You’d better work fast. He and Mr. Mori are out of here tomorrow. Early.”

      “I know. And don’t sweat it, sweetie. I’ve got it covered.” She placed another pumpkin, then shifted the first. Before she got to the third, she took a long sweeping look at the room. “She’s not here yet.”

      “Who?”

      Jody shook her head. “Everyone knows, Sam. Even Mikey, and he never even leaves the kitchen.”

      “Knows what? “

      “That you’ve got it bad.”

      He almost argued. Then sighed. “I used to be more subtle than this. How is it possible I’ve gotten worse at picking up women? It’s got to be the sale messing with me. ‘Cause this is not how I roll.”

      “How you roll?” СКАЧАТЬ