Page 14 of Ghost Business (Boneyard Key #2)

Nine

What a night.

Sophie had never felt so humiliated. It was like she’d blacked out, seeing Tristan with his tour group, ready to tell that stupid story about the pirate in front of the Hawkins House.

After unloading on him, she’d expected Tristan to be shamefaced.

Maybe even mad at her. But instead he’d looked over her shoulder at her tour group, then over his shoulder at his.

When he turned back to her a slow smile spread over his face, taking her in like she was something cute or funny, and not a pissed-off adult woman.

Sophie was used to that. “You’re cute when you’re angry” was a phrase that seemed to be made for her.

It wasn’t until the darkest of her rage had cleared that she realized what she’d done: absolutely unloaded on this guy, not only in public but in front of an audience. Two audiences. That had their cell phones out.

Oh, no.

She’d turned back to her group, aghast, while Tristan took advantage of her shift in focus to get his group the hell out of there.

She’d tried to cut the tour short and refund everyone’s money—even though they were in the homestretch, with more ground behind them than ahead.

But the general consensus was that it was the most any of them had been entertained in a while.

So she finished the tour, with shaky legs and an even shakier voice, doing her best to keep her composure until they got back to Hallowed Grounds, where Nick could take over.

Even though the tips had been enormous that night, she didn’t order pizza when she got home. She didn’t deserve pizza. Not after the way she’d behaved. The best thing she could do was try and forget this whole night had ever happened.

But Sophie hadn’t counted on the internet.

She’d never been much into social media.

Growing up with a great-aunt as a parental figure had admittedly left her with some very old-fashioned ideals.

She didn’t swear much—that past Friday night notwithstanding—and she didn’t spend much of her free time online.

Her day job was in front of a computer; the last thing she needed in her life was more screen time.

She didn’t need Facebook or Instagram to keep up with her high school classmates; most of them either still lived here in town or their families did, so she saw them on holidays or on a random karaoke night at The Haunt.

The first clue that things had gone all wrong came on Monday.

Cassie had texted her a little before noon ( Lunch?

), and that had been all the incentive she’d needed to indulge in a treat from Hallowed Grounds.

The weekend had been enough penance; she deserved nice things again, and a very nice thing on a Monday was a lunch she didn’t have to make herself.

The café was full for a Monday, with lingering three-day weekenders stretching that last day out as long as possible before heading home.

Sophie leaned against the counter, waiting for her turn to order, not paying attention to the low conversation behind her. It didn’t concern her. It never concerned her.

Except this time it did.

“Is that her?”

“It is! I was on her tour on Saturday.”

The back of Sophie’s neck prickled. Oh, no.

She froze, while adrenaline coursed through her in a slow-rolling wave.

Now that she knew the background conversation was about her, she didn’t know how to act.

How to stand. Did she look too casual? Not casual enough?

Her hands were suddenly heavy at the ends of her arms, and she had no idea what to do with them. These shorts didn’t even have pockets.

“Did she lose her shit on Saturday too? Maybe it’s a bit or something.”

“I thought that too after I saw the video. Like, maybe they stage the fight on purpose, since there are two ghost tours in town? But apparently not. We didn’t see the other tour at all.”

“Huh. That’s too bad.”

“Hey.” Sophie blinked as she realized that Nick was standing there in front of her, God knows for how long, waiting for her. He looked at her with sympathy, which frankly wasn’t like him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said tightly, her voice betraying that she was not good. She was not good at all.

But Nick, bless him, didn’t call her out. Only a raise of his eyebrows gave him away. “You know what you want?” He passed a diet soda across the counter to her.

She had the Hallowed Grounds menu memorized; it wasn’t like it was extensive.

But her mind was so preoccupied with the conversation behind her and what it might mean that she had no brainspace left.

Like she’d never eaten lunch at a café in her life.

“Uh…” She scanned the blackboard above Nick’s head and picked the first thing she saw. “Chicken Caesar wrap, please.”

Nick nodded but didn’t move. What did he want now? Sophie stared at him blankly until he sighed. “Fries or chips?”

“Oh. Right.” This lack of brainspace was becoming alarming. “Fries, please. Extra crispy.” It was a trick Libby had taught her. Nothing better than fries burned almost to a crisp.

“I’ll bring it right out.” Was he smirking when he wrote her order down?

Sophie took her drink with a tight smile and was about to take a sip when she heard her name being called. She turned, shoulders tight, but relaxed almost immediately. Cassie. Right. She was meeting Cassie here. Brainspace was coming back.

Sophie threaded her way through the café, doing her best to ignore the murmurs in her wake, before joining her friend at her back table. Cassie was halfway through a large iced latte, and her plate only held crumbs.

Cassie closed her laptop and set it aside as Sophie settled into the chair across from her. “You doing okay?”

“Why is everyone asking me that today?” Condensation from her glass had made her palm cold and wet, and she pressed her hand to her still-warm cheek. “Friday’s tour was a mess, but that happens, right? Doesn’t everyone have bad days at work?”

“Well…” Nick appeared at her side, sliding her plate in front of her. “Not everyone’s bad day at work goes viral.”

Cassie nodded emphatically. “Exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

Cassie’s eyes widened, and she and Nick exchanged a look over Sophie’s head. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” She looked from Nick to Cassie and back again while Cassie pulled her phone out of her bag.

“You really should get some actual food for lunch,” Nick said while she scrolled through her phone. “You can’t live on banana bread alone.”

“Then you shouldn’t have fed me three slices,” Cassie said absently, still scrolling. She glanced up long enough to wave Nick off with a smile. “I promise I’ll eat protein for dinner.” She stopped scrolling, making a small, satisfied sound before passing the phone across the table to Sophie.

“I don’t need to see this again.” Nick fled as Sophie tapped on the video.

Cassie snorted. “Chicken.”

But Sophie wasn’t listening. She was focused on the video, which had started playing with the sound off. The video was a little dark, but it was easy enough to recognize herself.

Except that she didn’t recognize herself.

Her eyes were wild, her face screwed up in rage as she stepped closer, getting up in Tristan’s face.

She watched in growing horror as the Sophie in the video angrily gestured at him and his top hat, before pointing emphatically down the street.

She didn’t need the sound on; it was easy enough to tell when she said bullshit over and over.

“It’s everywhere.” Cassie’s voice was apologetic, and somehow muffled against the dull roar in Sophie’s ears.

The video ended and then started again, playing in an infinite loop.

There she was, angry and yelling. There was Tristan, all amused smile, tipping his top hat in her direction.

It was weird, watching the action and remembering how absolutely violent that gesture had made her feel.

Now Sophie looked at the post itself. Over ten thousand likes. A couple hundred comments, and even more shares. Her thumb tapped the comment button, bringing up a white pane full of text, glaring after the relative dark of the video.

“Nope.” Cassie leaned across the table, snatching the phone out of Sophie’s hand. “We’re not reading the comments.”

“Why?” Sophie was confused over the sudden loss of the phone. “Are they bad?” What were people saying about her?

“I don’t know.” She placed the phone face down in the middle of the table. “Because we’re not reading the comments.”

“She’s not wrong,” came a voice from behind them.

Oh, no. Not him. The last person Sophie wanted to see.

For a fleeting moment, she hoped that she was imagining things, that the stress of seeing that video had caused an auditory hallucination.

But Cassie’s eyebrows drew together, a line creasing her forehead as she looked just over Sophie’s shoulder.

And a heartbeat later there he was, pulling out one of the empty chairs at their table and dropping into it like he’d been invited. Like he had every right to be there.

“Hey.” He extended his hand across the table to Cassie, a warm smile on his face. “Tristan. Tristan Martin.”

Cassie didn’t shake his hand. “Hi.” She pointedly crossed her arms over her chest, fixing him with an icy look.

He either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “And she’s right.

” Tristan leaned in toward Sophie with a friendly smile.

How had she ever liked that smile? Now she wanted to smack it off his face.

“Never read the comments on the internet. It’s never worth it.

What is worth it, though, is that we have gone viral. ”

“I’m aware,” she said, even though she hadn’t been aware of the video’s existence five minutes ago. Even though she was only vaguely aware of what going viral meant.