Page 24 of Old Flames

“What was the argument even about?” he asked.

“The brows,” she said. “High and low. There’s definitely a hierarchy in place here.”

“In that case, Dick’s at the top.”

Still roiled up from the bathroom brawl, Jules asked, “Do you even like my books?”

Leo paused, looking confused.

She instantly regretted the question. But since it was out there, she wouldn’t take it back. Before she could get an answer, however, the hostess approached them, menus in hand, and offered to guide them to their table.

“Excellent first evening, authors!” Daphne declared. “Well done! I couldn’t have asked for more. I’m so pleased you were willing to speak candidly. You’ve set the bar high.”

Jules reached for a calamari ring. She had no intention of raising the bar any higher. If she had her way, she’d lower it to the ground where it belonged.

“I wasn’t going to bring up my grandfather tonight,” Sebastien said. “It came from nowhere.”

“And I followed your lead,” Vicky conceded. “Your story moved me, and I was compelled to share.”

“And did so quite beautifully,” Matty said, eyes on Vicky. Then he caught himself, and added, “You both did.”

Dick snorted. “Don’t expect that sentimental dribble from me!”

Sebastien, who forgot he was in paradise, shot back. “We know exactly what to expect from you.”

A waitress came around to take their drink order, likely preventing a second brawl.

Leo gestured to her, and Jules watched him chat her up. With a nod and a wink, she walked away.

“So, Daphne, about this ghost tour,” Vicky said, “what can we expect?”

“It’s a crowd-pleaser,” Daphne replied. “We try to include it every year. Is that something you’re into? I heard you were summoning ghosts last night.”

“Didn’t work,” Vicky answered. “We were sitting around my vanilla candle. How effective could that be?”

“It was a start,” Matty said. “Each of us has a specific set of skills. We ought to get this done.”

“What skills are those, Matty?” Ayesha asked. “We’re fiction writers.”

“Six speculative fiction writers check into a haunted hotel,” Matty said. “It’s our duty to investigate.”

“It would help if we understood our ghost,” Sebastien said over Ayesha’s objections. “Except for her age and likeness, what do we even know about Aurora?”

“I’ll tell you what I know, if it helps,” Daphne said. “But don’t count on me to join you. I’m not getting involved with you meddling kids.”

“Go on,” Vicky said. “I promise you won’t have to join the séance.”

“Aurora’s father, a Cuban cigar manufacturer, owed the shipbuilder a significant amount of money. They married her off to settle the debt to an old man who, though sick, would outlive her,” Daphne explained. “Aurora was devastated.”

“How terrible!” Ayesha said, suddenly engaged. “What happened next?”

“He locked her in the house, kept her from her friends and family. He wanted to get her pregnant right away. He’d lost a son and was eager to have another. Locals say she spent her days in the tower, gazing out. They say she had a crush on a local boy. Who knows?”

“The tower . . . at least we got the location right,” Vicky said. “We may need more candles, though.”

“Despairing of ever being free, she climbed onto the roof,” Daphne continued. “You can imagine what happened next.”

“No,” Matty said. “We can’t.”