Back To The Lake Breeze Hotel. Amie Denman

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She waited for his reaction, but he didn’t give her a thing. This was going to be hard.

      “These guys have terrifying minds,” she continued, undaunted by Nate’s stone face. “Exactly what we need for this project.”

      “I’m sure you’re right.”

      “Don’t you like haunted houses?” She remembered going through one with him while they were still in high school. They’d held each other close and laughed all the way through it. Had he liked it at the time or had he pretended to for her sake?

      Nate shook his head just enough for Alice to notice. “I think real life is frightening enough most of the time.”

      His tone implied that she was one of those frightening things. Her cheeks heated and the sensation radiated down her neck. With her auburn hair and pink dress, she was afraid she’d look like a boiled blushing lobster in a moment. She didn’t need his approval or even his friendship. After what happened five years ago, any kind of a relationship with Nate would require a miracle.

      But she didn’t need to be treated as if she was public enemy number one.

      “Would you say the haunted house is intended for all ages, like a family attraction?” the reporter asked.

      “Everything at Starlight Point is family oriented,” Nate said.

      “But there’s no way I’d take my little niece into one of these haunted houses,” Alice said.

      “So...it’s not for all ages,” Bob said.

      Nate cut Alice a look he might have given someone who ruined a surprise party by spilling the beans ahead of time.

      “Look at this,” the haunted house man said to the reporter. He swiped through several screens on his phone, turned it sideways and showed it to the men from the Bayside Times.

      “Whoa,” Jason said. “That man looks like he just saw his own funeral.”

      The haunted house man laughed. “Seriously, look at their faces. We know how to scare them.” He turned to Alice and Nate. “Want to see these pictures of a haunted house we did in Tennessee last year?”

      Alice was about to agree, her curiosity excited by the reaction of the reporters. But Nate said, “No,” in a cold, determined voice.

      Everyone in the group looked at him, and he put on a winning smile. “I can’t wait to see the final product for myself. Don’t want to ruin it by looking at pictures of similar ones.”

      The reporter and photographer shrugged and went back to looking at the pictures on the phone.

      Alice shifted the stack of papers and folders she held so she could find a press kit from the haunted house company. It was the perfect thing to hand to the local media.

      Suddenly, a breeze caught the edge of her papers and sent the top ones flying. When she tried to grab for them, the rest of the pile started to slide, and Alice’s shoulder bag skated down her arm. In a moment, everything would be on the ground or flying through the air.

      Surprised by the sudden breeze and soaring papers, Alice was even more shocked when Nate deftly caught two papers midair and used his other hand to right her stack before it spiraled to the ground and spread out in a paperwork tsunami. Nate took the strap of her bag and put it back on her shoulder. As he helped her balance her pile of papers, his hand touched hers and he jerked it back as if he’d been burned. He flushed red and stepped back.

      The other men stopped their conversation to stare.

      “Paper cut,” Nate said. He locked eyes with Alice for a moment and the expression she saw in his eyes looked like panic.

      Come on. Am I really that much of an ogre?

      “Those are wicked,” the reporter said. “Paper cuts.”

      Nate swallowed and nodded. “The worst.”

      Alice took her bag off her shoulder and shoved all the papers in it. She didn’t even care about wrinkling them. She’d ask Haley to print new ones if she had to.

      “I think we’re ready to move on to the haunted house in the shooting gallery,” she said pleasantly to her two consultants. She smiled at the reporter and photographer. “I don’t want to hold you up any longer. I’m sure you have a lot more ground to cover and a story to put out today.”

      “We have plenty of material already, but I wouldn’t mind seeing what’s going on inside the shooting gallery,” Bob said. “People in town are pretty curious about what you’re cooking up here at the Point. I think you’re going to have a big success on your hands.”

      “I sure hope so. I was one of the people who talked the Hamiltons into staying open all fall, so I’ll feel responsible if it doesn’t go well. As the special events coordinator, nothing is better than a happy ending.”

      She heard Nate cough but didn’t glance his way. Instead, Alice squared her shoulders and focused on the reporter. “I can’t wait to tell you about the events we have planned for Christmas. I can’t say much now, but you might have noticed there’s a very large parking lot out front that would be perfect for something such as—” she put one finger on her chin and looked to the sky “—perhaps an ice skating rink or a Christmas tree lot.”

      The reporter laughed. “Next you’ll be telling me you’re bringing in live reindeer and authentic elves.”

      “I can’t reveal company secrets,” she said. “But if you know anyone who wants to get married, you can tell them there may be one weekend in December that isn’t booked yet for a Christmas wedding.”

      Jason turned to the reporter and elbowed him. “Hear that, Bob? Maybe you and Shelly should make it official?”

      “Shelly’s mother hasn’t learned to like me yet,” Bob said. “Maybe next year. In the meantime, how about letting us inside the haunted house?”

      Alice shook her head. “Sorry, we want to keep some surprises for our guests.”

      “We’ll walk with you as far as the arcade,” Nate said. He flashed a smile at the reporters. “But we’ll have to behave ourselves and not crash the party. There’s plenty of time for going through the haunted house when it opens.”

      The group of six started walking in a disorganized blob. She wanted to walk between the two men from the haunted house company so she could talk freely with them as she had been for the past hour or so. But she didn’t dare tell the Bayside Times to put their cameras and notebooks away and head home, no matter how much she wanted to.

      At the steps of the Western Arcade, she conceded to smiling for a picture with the haunted house producers. Now would they go?

      “You might just see yourself in tomorrow’s paper,” the photographer said congenially. “But it sure would be a better picture if you were inside and we got a glimpse of something scary.”

      Alice laughed, but then she noticed Nate’s expression as he stood behind the reporters. His usual pleasant, polite PR man veneer had been wiped off as if someone used an eraser on a chalkboard. He swallowed hard and glared at her.

      Was

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