Page 9 of Ghost Business (Boneyard Key #2)

Nick’s gaze sharpened in surprise. Sophie wasn’t a four-letter-word kind of girl, but sometimes the occasion called for it. “What is what?”

“This.” She stabbed a finger at the card, as though she could spear it to the table. “A ghost tour? Are you kidding?”

“What’s that?” Nick put down the rag and picked up the card, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied it. “Oh, this is Tristan, right? Your new boyfriend? He runs ghost tours too?” Nick was oblivious to her fury.

“He is not my boyfriend.” She snatched the card back. It was a complicated process, involving her stretching to the very tops of her toes and practically lunging across the counter, but she managed. “How long has this card been there?”

“Today. He came in during lunch. I was doing fourteen things at the same time, and he was waving that card at me, asking if he could put it up. I thought, okay, why not. I didn’t even get a chance to look at it, see what it was.

” Nick looked sheepish, spots of color appearing in his cheeks above his russet-colored beard.

“Sorry, Soph. I wouldn’t have said yes if I’d known he was infringing on your turf. ”

She sighed, trying to summon her patience.

“You’ve been busy.” She could relate. February was still snowbird season.

Lots of people spending long weekends in Boneyard Key.

Local businesses were all working long hours these days, but the money was worth it.

It kept them going through the lean times, when it was too hot for tourists and there weren’t any holidays.

“Hey. Cheer up.” The words were hilarious coming from Nick. He was the least cheerful guy on the planet. “He’s not local, right? Maybe you can give him some tips for his own tour, wherever that is.”

“Yeah.” Sophie’s voice felt dark coming out of her mouth. “Maybe.”

The card burned a hole in her pocket all the way home. Her stomach growled as she pulled off her hoodie and shook out her dark curls. She was starving, and banana bread wasn’t going to cut it tonight.

Sophie reached into her pocket and drew out a handful of cash. Tips had been good tonight. She deserved a pizza. Of course, while she’d taken the money out of her pocket, she’d also taken out that damn business card. She frowned at it while pulling up the number for Poltergeist Pizza on her phone.

“Hey, Soph!” Terry sounded as bright and cheerful as he had in high school biology class. Tips must be good for him tonight too. “Tour over already? I saw you herding those ducklings past our place.”

“Yep.” She tucked her phone against her cheek as she hung up her hoodie. “It was a good crowd tonight.”

“I bet. We’ve been nonstop here. You want the usual? I got some garlic knots coming out of the oven; I can throw those in too.”

Her stomach growled again at the thought.

“Yes, please.” Ever since she was a kid, Sophie only took her pizza one way.

Medium with sausage and pepperoni, extra sauce and extra cheese.

Obviously, she’d tried pizza other places when she’d been out of town.

But nowhere came close to Poltergeist Pizza.

Her taste buds loved Boneyard Key just as much as she did.

It would be a while before dinner arrived—Terry had always been a bit of a slacker, but he was meticulous about his pizza—so while she waited, Sophie opened the bottle of Merlot on her counter and booted up her laptop.

She needed a glass of wine to steel herself before pulling up Ghouls Night Out’s website.

It was a good website, she had to admit.

Slick, just like the business card in her hand.

Ghost Tours for the Discerning Traveler scrolled across the top in a Dickensian-style script.

This wasn’t a single-location thing, she quickly realized.

No, Ghouls Night Out had multiple locations, scattered all over the country like it was the second coming of Cracker Barrel.

The photo on the home page showed happy tourists being led down cobblestone streets by a guide in a top hat and frock coat, carrying a lantern.

Ridiculous. Sophie wore jeans and sneakers most of the time, and she’d never heard a complaint.

Was this the kind of thing she was supposed to be doing? Cheesy Victorian cosplay?

She clicked the About page and there he was: Tristan Martin.

As magnetic in this photo as he was in real life, his blond hair was just as artfully messy, with a haircut that probably cost as much as a car payment.

His smile was broad, with perfect, straight teeth, and his eyes were bright and inviting.

He really had no business being on the internet looking like that.

She clicked back to the home page and took a long sip of wine. Wait. She zoomed in on the cobblestone street picture. The tour guide, the one in the stupid Victorian outfit…

It was Tristan.

Sophie groaned and covered her face with her hand.

He’d let her go on and on the night they’d met, telling him about ghost tours, all the while probably laughing on the inside about what an idiot she was.

And then tonight. That intense attention while she led him on her tour.

Listening to her stories. His questions about scheduling.

Turning down a dinner invite because he had “stuff” to do.

All the while knowing he’d left that business card there like a time bomb waiting to go off.

Asshole.

And seriously, what was with this costume? Ridiculous. He had a face that knew what a cell phone was. He looked dumb in a top hat.

All of this was bad enough, but then Sophie clicked on the Locations tab, and the bright yellow banner scrolling across the top opened a pit in the bottom of her stomach.

COMING THIS SPRING: BONEYARD KEY, FLORIDA.

“Shit.” That was two swears in one night, but Sophie was in that kind of mood.

She wasn’t getting rich doing ghost tours. At best, Tristan was going to take half of her audience, with half her income along with it. At worst…

Well, at worst, this ridiculously photogenic guy with his stupid hat and his lantern and his fancy website was going to put her out of business.