Page 48 of Ghost Business (Boneyard Key #2)

Thirty-Three

Tristan had never been so happy in his life. He had also never been so sad.

The happy—that was almost all Sophie. She liked to sleep nestled in the hollow of his shoulder, and there had never been a better way to wake up.

Then there was the sad. October first was bearing down now. It had been circled on his mental calendar for so long that he couldn’t believe the date was actually almost here.

“Labor Day weekend was great,” Eric said on a Monday morning call. “In the black all the way across the board.”

“But…?” Tristan glanced over his shoulder at Sophie.

She was in front of her laptop in her dining nook, headphones on, obviously in the zone.

He slipped out the front door, easing it closed behind him.

Once he was out in the breezeway, he relaxed.

“Your voice says there should be a ‘but’ coming up.”

“Yeah.” Eric’s sigh was a whoosh of breath over the phone. “We both know it won’t be enough. We’re turning a profit, which is great for any new business after just five years. But enough to pay back your dad?”

“The payment will ruin us.” Tristan didn’t need to be reminded.

“We still have the month of September. Let’s table this for now and revisit at the end of the month, okay?

” The news made him feel oddly lighter. Sure, his business was about to fail.

But there was something in the knowing. The finality of it.

He could stop worrying about the what-ifs.

“If it helps,” Eric said, “your contest with Sophie really didn’t have much to do with it.”

“What do you mean?” Tristan turned, looking over his shoulder at Sophie’s front door, as though she could hear them.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the shared spreadsheet, of course. You’re ahead, but you’re both doing really well. In fact, you’re mirroring each other. When your numbers are up, so are hers. When yours are down…”

“So I was never taking business away from her?” He was more relieved than he expected to be by that.

“Nope. She wasn’t taking it away from you, either. Turns out, that little town really is big enough for two ghost tours. And who knows? Maybe she’ll pick up the slack after you’re gone.”

After he was gone. That was the part he didn’t want to think about. Besides, he still had a few weeks left in Boneyard Key. A few weeks left with Sophie. He was going to make the best of them.

Labor Day weekend had been a last hurrah when it came to tourist season, but the weekend after was still busy. Tristan had sold out both nights, and Sophie had too.

“It’s September,” he said on Friday night when she met him outside of Hallowed Grounds after their tours were over. “Shouldn’t it be cooling off soon?” He’d shucked his coat while waiting for her, his cravat already off and stuck in a pocket.

Sophie just laughed. “Oh, honey, no. In Florida we get a couple weeks of fall, usually sometime in December. If we’re lucky.”

“Ugh.” He plopped his top hat on her head. It was far too big for her, sliding down her forehead.

“Ugh,” she echoed. “This is all sweaty.” But she steadied the hat on her head and grinned up at him as they set off down the street.

Picking up a pizza after ghost tour nights was becoming a tradition with them.

Tonight, they weren’t the only ones at Poltergeist Pizza.

Jo was there, leaning against the counter, talking to a young woman with purply maroon streaks in her dark brown hair.

The maroon-haired woman’s eyes lit up when she saw Tristan, as though he was an old friend.

“I’m so glad I ran into you.” She leaned toward him, grasping his forearm. “I never got a chance to say thanks.”

Tristan’s mind went blank. “Thanks…?”

“For clearing all those dead limbs off our property. After the hurricane. I have to say, I thought you were an annoying city boy when you first showed up in town, but I’m so glad I was wrong. Actually…” She pointed at him. “Hold that thought.” And she was out the door, running off into the night.

“Who was that?” Tristan looked from Jo to Sophie. “What just happened?”

“Aura just happened.” Jo’s lips quirked up. “Don’t worry, she’s like that. She lives around the corner. I bet she’ll be right back.”

“Around the…” There was nothing around the corner.

Unless she meant Spooky Brew or Mystic Crystals.

Oh . Things started clicking together in his brain.

There was a huge oak tree in front of Mystic Crystals that had lost a lot of limbs when Flynn came through.

He’d pitched in with several other people to cut the limbs down to manageable sizes before piling them by the curb.

He’d only glanced at that upstairs window two, maybe three times.

It had been suspiciously glow-less when the town was out of power.

But come to think of it, he hadn’t spotted it since the hurricane.

Maybe that ghost had moved on. Something to do with the hurricane?

Tristan still wasn’t clear on how all this ghost stuff worked.

She was back soon enough, and she was carrying…an arm?

“Here.” She thrust the skeleton arm toward him, and Tristan shrank back in alarm. What the hell?

“It’s a peace offering,” Aura explained, and that did nothing to clear things up. “You’re okay around here now. I feel bad for all the times I messed with you.”

“Messed with…” More things clicked together in his brain. “That was you ? In the window?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “That was me! Under a bedsheet.”

“With the creepy green glow?”

“A light bulb. Left over from last Christmas.”

“And the skeletal…” He looked again at the arm that Aura was brandishing in his direction. “Oh my god, this is plastic, isn’t it?” In his defense, it looked incredibly realistic.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Jo took the arm away from Aura, her hands encircling both the radius and ulna.

Her eyes dropped closed for a few moments, then she snorted.

“Oh, man, Tristan. You should see your face. She scared the crap out of you!” She offered the arm to Tristan, shoulder joint first. “But yeah. It’s plastic. ”

As peace offerings went, it was…well, it was something. “Thanks,” he said as he turned the plastic prop around in his hands. “I’ve always wanted an…arm.”

The girls around him, Sophie included, burst into laughter, and he had to grin. God, he loved this town.

Sophie carried the pizza home, still wearing Tristan’s hat, and he carried his lantern and his brand-new skeleton arm. He should talk to Sophie. He knew that. About October first. What he was about to lose, and what he would probably have to do.

But there just wasn’t time. Not on their walk home, while he waved his plastic skeleton arm around like it was a sword.

Not while they demolished their pizza, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her coffee table.

Not when he slid between her bedsheets, with Sophie warm and waiting for him.

He still had a few weeks. It wasn’t time to worry about the future yet.