Page 14 of With All My Haunted Heart

“They’re too busy preparing for the next retreat to handle the actual haunting process.” Elle cocks her head to one side, her hair sliding in shining rivulets across her shoulders. “And given your insistence that it can’t be done…it’s also possible they don’t know how to haunt the place. If they did, they wouldn’t need our location for their retreats.”

I pop the tomato in my mouth and give myself time to think while I chew. If I pull this off, impressing an eccentric investor like Sloane could open new opportunities for me. Even if Sloane didn’t want to invest in my business directly, their endorsement could make a major difference. It could bring in higher-end clientele, including other witches.

To be a witch that other witches turn to for help? The thrill of that kind of validation prickles along my skin. My mind whirls with possibilities. Risking NACOW’s attention by attempting something so ripe for disaster would be worth it with Sloane involved.

“We’d need a way to compensate the spirits who haunt the B&B,” I say as my brainstorming shifts from internal to external. “And you’d have to give them the option to pass beyond the veil when they’re ready. Then there’s the matter of possession prevention. That’s a liability nightmare, even if you have guests sign a waiver. And you’ll want designated ghost-free zones. I imagine guests will want privacy in their bedrooms. They don’t need ghosts watching them change or playing voyeur if they indulge in vacation sex.”

Elle sputters mid-drink and collapses into a coughing fit, her face going pink all the way to the tips of her ears. It’s cuter than it has any right to be.

“You good, Ms. Thompson?” I reach out to pat her back, but she waves me away.

“Elle is fine.” She presses a hand to her throat and breathes deep, settling the last of the coughing fit. “I’m sorry I pulled the overly formal thing. It’s something I learned during my MBA, but it always feels stiff and weird. Can I call you Pippa?”

“It is my name.”

This time, when she smirks, there’s a warmth to her eyes. “Well then, Pippa, I have to say, I am impressed. I’ve always imagined that, if we could pull this off, it would be a win for everyone involved—the guests, the ghosts, Alex and me. The investors. And if you can get us across the finish line, I want it to be a win for you, too.”

Hesitation creeps up my spine. “Like I said, I don’t know if it is possible.”

“And I appreciate that you don’t make false promises. But…you’re willing to try?”

Her question hangs in the air between us, heavy with want that feels deeper than business. I load my fork with salad to buy time. There are so many moving parts to something like this, but the creative thrill of it, the challenge it would pose…it’s like lightning down my spine in the best possible way.

“What timelines are we working with?”

“We need the place haunted by our grand opening on Halloween, otherwise Sloane will pull their funding.”

I do the math in my head. Thirty-three days. Thirty-three days to safely haunt a B&B. I’d have to move around the few recurring appointments on my books, see if I could get them knocked out before I go or put them off until after Halloween. Dea could handle the office while I’m gone. Hell, she’ll probably enjoy having time alone to start all those organization projects she’s been talking about.

“Here’s what I propose.” Elle slips a business card across the table to me. On the back, she’s scribbled two very large numbers. “Come stay with us at the B&B. If you work on this until the grand opening, we’ll pay you that no matter the results.” She points to the first number, a fee that would more than make up for the cancellation this week and refill some of my emergency fund.

“And if I succeed?” I ask, unwilling to believe the second number on her card is real. It’s a mind-boggling amount.

Victory flashes in Elle’s eyes, and the easy smile on her face is like staring into the sun. “If you impress Sloane and they fully invest in Midnight Manor, that bonus is yours.” She holds out her hand. “Do we have a deal?”

I slip my hand into hers and ignore the way her touch elicits goose bumps along my arm. “Deal.”

Chapter

Six

Zack Ryan didn’t change his mind.

Dea greeted me with the news when I got back from lunch yesterday, and then the rest of the day flew by in a rush. Clients got rescheduled. Dea agreed to water my plants while I’m out of town. Then I went home to pack for thirty-three days at Midnight Manor spent trying to haunt my best friend’s business.

I barely slept last night, my mind spinning with possibilities. Twice, I got up to write notes in my experimental grimoire. I’d hoped that getting all the ideas out of my brain would help me sleep, but with each idea I wrote down, two more sprang up in its place.

Even now, I’m filled with shimmery excitement. It’s something I haven’t felt in a long time, the lure of a new magical puzzle that only I can solve.

Weight presses against my chest as I crest one of the hills close to Oak Spires. The last time I let myself get excited about seemingly impossible magic, it nearly cost my mother her reelection campaign. It cost me everything.

You have disgraced this family for the last time.

You are no longer an Erikson.

I haven’t talked to my parents since. When Nanette Erikson makes a proclamation, there is no turning back. Which is why she’s successfully served as the head of NACOW for so long.

Heaviness settles over me, but I shake it away. I’m not an Erikson anymore. I don’t answer to that stuffy, old-fashioned name. Perpetua. Only a pompous asshat names a tiny baby Perpetua. Just thinking it, hearing it in my mother’s somber voice, makes me want to shrivel up and die.