Page 4 of Be Our Ghost (The Duchess Hotel #2)

Three

Ten minutes before Knox was due to arrive at her apartment, Charlie dashed into the bathroom and checked her appearance in the mirror again.

After trying on multiple outfits, she’d chosen a short-sleeved top with a fun floral print and faded jeans.

A little makeup, some hoop earrings, and her favorite beaded bracelets completed the look.

A nice change from the blazer-and-skirt combo she usually wore as front office manager of the Duchess.

As she was touching up her mascara, her hands shook so badly she had to set down the tube.

Just breathe.

Why was she so jittery about having Knox over?

She’d never had any qualms about popping into the Gilded Lily to chat with him.

Or hanging out with him in the staff room on those occasions when their breaks lined up.

And last December, she’d persuaded him to work with her on a bunch of the hotel’s holiday events.

He’d even dropped by her parents’ house last year when he helped her haul a fully decorated Christmas tree to the Duchess.

But she’d never been alone with him in her apartment. Just the two of them, without the steady bustle of the hotel to distract them.

A sharp rap on her door made her heart seize up. He was early.

Before she could reach the door, it swung open. Her mother, Irene Fraser, entered the apartment, clad in a pale pink dress and matching kitten heels, a pair of diamond earrings glittering beneath her sleek blond bob.

Charlie walked over to her and caught a whiff of honeysuckle—her mother’s signature scent. “Hey, Mom. Shouldn’t you be heading to that cocktail thing at the Thomsons’?”

Both her parents had active social lives, filled with golf games, charity fundraisers, dinners, and events at the yacht club, where they were long-standing members.

“Didn’t I tell you, sweetie? The renovations on their kitchen still aren’t done.

It’s so hard to find decent help in this city.

So, we offered to host the gathering at the last minute.

I’d love it if you’d join us.” She raked her gaze over Charlie.

“You’d just need to change into something… presentable.”

Charlie could think of nothing more excruciating than spending the evening with her parents’ wealthy acquaintances. “Thanks, but I’ve already got plans.”

“Is one of your friends from the hotel coming over?”

“Yep.” She didn’t elaborate, hoping her mother would assume she was hanging out with Rosie or Laurel. If she mentioned she was entertaining a male guest, she’d be hit with a barrage of questions.

“Well, if you get done early, you’re welcome to stop in,” her mom said. “The Bouchards are coming, and they hinted Randolph would be joining them. From what I heard, he’s single again. Might be the opportune time to win him back.”

Charlie repressed a shudder. “Mom, I’m the one who broke things off.”

“True, but that was three years ago. After all that time, you haven’t found anyone to replace him. Don’t you think you might have been a tad hasty?”

Never . If anything, she shouldn’t have gone out with him in the first place.

From day one, he’d interspersed his compliments with sharp little barbs—about her job, her clothes, and her sweet tooth.

Whenever they went out for dinner, he always ordered for her (“the little lady will have the kale salad”) and got annoyed if she hinted at wanting dessert.

After they’d gotten engaged, he’d pressured her to spend a fortune on designer clothes, salon visits, and expensive gym memberships, just to meet his exacting standards.

If she’d married him, he would have stripped her personality down to nothing.

“I’m in no hurry to get married. Not anymore. But thanks for inviting me.” Now, please leave. She did not want her mother still standing here when Knox arrived.

“All right, dear. Have a nice evening.” With that, her mother turned to go, closing the door behind her.

Not for the first time, Charlie regretted moving out of the three-bedroom apartment she’d shared with two of her friends.

But once Randolph had proposed, he insisted she come live with him.

By the time she’d had the courage to end things, her roommates had found a replacement.

She’d decided to save money by temporarily moving back home.

Though after three years, the arrangement could hardly be called temporary.

At least her apartment was in a separate living space, located above her parents’ spacious three-car garage.

But at age twenty-eight, it was embarrassing to admit she didn’t have a place of her own.

Another knock came at the door, and her shoulders tightened. When she opened it, Knox stood there, wearing jeans and a black T-shirt with the Ghostbusters logo. In his arms was a paper bag from Fairway Market.

“Come on in,” she said. “I love your shirt.”

“Thanks. I got it at that vintage place on Johnson Street.” He kicked off his sneakers and set the bag next to the coffee table. “I also brought some snacks, though it looks like you’ve got that covered.”

She flushed, fully aware she might have gone overboard. Laid out on the table was a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade, a platter of homemade chocolate chip cookies, and a bowl of freshly popped popcorn, drizzled with butter. “In my opinion, you can never have too many snacks.”

“I feel the same way. That popcorn smells incredible.” He took out a jumbo pack of Twizzlers, a bag of Sour Patch kids, and another bag of Nestlé miniature chocolate bars.

Had he remembered her sweet tooth? Or did he just love candy as much as she did? “Awesome. Now we’ll feel like we’re at the movies.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets, as if unsure what to say next, and cast his gaze around her apartment. “Cute place.”

It was only six hundred square feet, but she’d put every inch of it to good use, filling it full of potted plants, bookshelves, and funky accent pieces, like a fuchsia shag rug, a sunshine-yellow armchair, and a gooseneck lamp with multicolored shades.

In one corner was her portable keyboard, which had been gathering dust since Christmas.

“Thanks,” she said. “I know it’s strange to still be living with my parents, but…”

“No, I get it. Rent in Victoria is ridiculously expensive. It’s gotten almost as bad as Vancouver.” He walked over to one wall, which held a series of shadow boxes filled with quirky little toys, some dating back to the 1950s. “This is so cool. Where’d you get all these things?”

“Mostly from flea markets or Etsy. My granny started the collection, and when she went into assisted living, she gave it to me. I like adding to it.” She loved seeking out new treasures—small china figures, glass animals, tiny dolls, and miniature dollhouse furniture.

“I sometimes hit up flea markets on the weekends,” he said. “Now that I know what you collect, I’ll keep an eye out for that stuff.”

“Thank you.” His comment was so thoughtful it took her aback. Feeling slightly flustered, she gestured to the couch. “Should we get started?”

“Sounds good.” He settled himself at one end of it and reached for the pitcher. “Do you want a glass of lemonade?”

“Yes, please. And help yourself to the cookies. I made them this morning.”

As she joined him on the couch, she caught the faint hint of cedar and citrus and wondered if he used a special beard grooming oil.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she willed herself to relax.

But it was hard to play it cool when he was sitting right beside her, his broad frame taking up so much space.

He was so close she could easily reach over and touch him.

Not that she would. This was a get-together between two colleagues. If she wanted more from him, she’d have to build up to it. Slowly . Which made her feel more like an awkward teenager than a grown woman. But she didn’t want to risk anything that would make him retreat into his grumpy shell.

“I did a little research into Canada’s Most Haunted ,” she said. “It’s been around for five seasons, but I planned to start us off with the first episode of season one.”

Knox passed her a glass of lemonade. “That works for me.”

She took the glass and handed him a black composition book and a ballpoint pen. “I also got us each a notebook so we could jot stuff down.” Even as she said it, she knew she sounded nerdy. Like they were students working on a group project.

He took it from her and set it on his lap. “Let me guess, you were a straight A student?”

“Um…yeah. Kind of.”

There was no “kind of” about it. She’d always excelled in school, mostly because her parents had expected nothing less.

“Same here. Except for chem.” He offered up a grin. “I hated all those formulas.”

Interesting . She filed that tidbit away in the portion of her brain reserved for facts about Knox. He doled them out so sparingly that she treasured them as if they were tiny gems.

Once the show started, she did her best to keep her eyes on the screen.

But she couldn’t resist sneaking a few glances at him.

Though she’d always been aware of his height—he was almost a foot taller than she was—he was usually standing behind the bar, so the difference wasn’t as noticeable.

Seated on her couch, he looked so solid.

Like he could wrap her up in a giant bear hug or pick her up in his arms with little effort.

Focus. If she wanted to know what to expect from the show, she needed to pay attention.

By the end of the first episode, she was able to relax.

She even giggled at a few of Knox’s snarky comments.

Not that she blamed him, since some of the “evidence” the paranormal investigators found looked dubious at best. Like, was that really an otherworldly orb floating by the window, or was it the reflection from a passing car?

Was that figure on the road a spectral vision or a random cow?