Shiver / Private Sessions. Jo LeighЧитать онлайн книгу.
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?” Jody laughed, loudly and long. “Who are you talking to? I’ve known you since we were freshmen, buddy. I’ve seen your moves. James Bond, you’re not.”
He stared at her, openmouthed. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re just jealous you didn’t marry me when you had the chance.”
“We’d have been miserable and you know it. We both had a lot of growing up to do. But you know what? You’ve turned into someone I like quite a bit. Not as much as my husband, but still.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I heard you were down here last night after one in the morning, when you should have been getting some beauty rest.”
“How do you know this?”
“I work in the kitchen. We know everything.”
He handed her the next damn pumpkin. “Yeah, well. I’m not sure it did any good.”
“Stop. You’re gorgeous and wonderful and she’d be an idiot not to like you. Just a thought, though. Tomorrow I’d go back to flannel and hiking boots. Let those bigcity boys get a taste of the real Crider experience, and let this woman see that you’re a rugged outdoorsman.”
“Talk about false advertising.”
“What do you care? It’s only for another couple of days. And you look damn good in those old jeans of yours.”
“Does your husband know you talk like this?”
She grinned at him happily. “He thinks I’m adorable.”
“I’ll have to talk to him about that.”
“Speak of the devil,” Jody said, nodding toward the entrance.
He expected to see Jody’s husband, but it was Carrie standing by the door. Although he wanted to, he didn’t turn. “So, everybody’s talking about me and Carrie, huh?”
“You know the kitchen staff, Sam. Biggest bunch of gossips in the world. Except for maybe housekeeping. Or would that be reservations and front desk?”
“Fine. How about using those extraordinary eavesdropping skills on something useful? Like finding out who’s going to buy this joint and for how much.”
Jody put another pumpkin in place. “Go talk to her. She keeps looking at you.”
“You’re just making shit up now.”
“Am I?”
Sam studied Jody’s face. She was still a beauty. Marriage and having a kid agreed with her. He knew some of that glow was due to working again after such a long hiatus, and that pleased him. He hoped she and Heartly could make a deal. As for her being all-knowing and wise, that was a bunch of bullshit. Nevertheless, he had no qualms about leaving Jody without a second glance.
AND THERE, LIKE A GIFT, was the very man Carrie had been searching for.
He looked good. Skinny black pants, hunter-green button-down shirt all very hotel-ownerish. But his hair, that was all renegade filmmaker. It wasn’t quite as messy as just-rolled-out-of-bed. No, it was more just-finished-making-out-in-the-backseat hair.
As he approached his smile swept away all doubts that she’d screwed up her chance with him. She adjusted her sweater, smoothed her hair, although she’d just checked out the ponytail five minutes ago. She was just doing the mating dance of the Prowling Twentysomething Female, dressed in her finest plumage. Well, the finest she’d brought, which consisted of jeans, a thrift-store cardigan, navy ballerina flats and an estate-sale broach she’d found in East L.A. Sam looked her up and down, and from what Carrie could see, he approved.
“You’re early,” he said as he stepped in close. “That means you can have your pick of pumpkins.”
“How nicely alliterative. Perhaps I’ll pick the prettiest pumpkin.”
He opened his mouth, then let it close with a sigh. “I’m just going