Chapter Six
Six
He was about to ask her out. Cassie was sure of it.
Nick had this look on his face. It had been there ever since she’d vocalized her fantasy about chicken tender subs—seriously the biggest thing she missed about Orlando—and sure, maybe she’d gotten a little carried away. But he hadn’t run away screaming. In fact, he’d leaned in closer while they’d been talking, his knees practically touching hers under this tiny table, so close she could have reached his hand. Or he could have touched hers. While they’d talked about fried chicken of all things, his eyes had lingered on her face, and had she imagined it or had his gaze dropped to her mouth, just for a second?
Then he’d cleared his throat, the tip of his tongue touching his bottom lip, and Cassie’s heart fluttered in her chest. He’d leaned in closer. You know, if you’re not doing anything next week, maybe on Tuesday we could—
Then the chime of the bell over the door ruined everything. She’d done her best to be cool about it, but she pressed her lips together to hold in a sigh of aggravation as Nick got up to greet the customer who had just walked in. It was fine. She should let him get back to work.
And she should get back to work herself. Three deadlines on Monday. Ugh.
Cassie opened her laptop reluctantly, preparing to slide back into work mode instead of flirt-with-the-cute-coffee-shop-guy mode, when the name “Sophie” made her jerk her head up, Pavlov style. Sure enough, Nick was talking to a woman across the counter who Cassie was sure she’d seen before. It had been dark and she’d only been lit by the streetlamp in front of Cassie’s house, but the glasses and dark curls were definitely familiar. The newcomer was the ghost tour guide from last week.
Now Cassie’s heart hammered in her chest for another reason. One that had nothing to do with the cute coffee shop guy. She stared at her laptop screen, her eyes slowly losing focus as she paid attention to the conversation instead.
“You here for the sign-ups?”
Sophie nodded, her dark curls bouncing. “May as well get an iced coffee too. How’s it looking for tonight?”
“Let’s see.” After Nick handed Sophie her coffee and her change, he opened a drawer under the register and slid a notepad across the counter. “Looks like you’ve got three for tonight. Not too bad.”
“Are you kidding?” Sophie sighed as she consulted the list. “It’s barely worth doing. Three people?”
“Memorial Day’s right around the corner.” Nick’s voice was consoling. “Just hold out a little while longer.”
Sophie nodded with another sigh, but then brightened almost immediately. “Oh hey. You heard that someone bought the Hawkins House, right?”
Cassie’s scalp prickled, the tingling sensation traveling across her shoulders and down her spine. She took a pull off her iced latte and tried to refocus her attention to her work, while also not making any unnecessary movements. Time to be inconspicuous.
“Yep,” Nick said easily. “She’s right over there if you want to say hi.” Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie could see him gesturing in her direction and Sophie whirling around.
Welp. So much for inconspicuous. She looked up, trying to act like she hadn’t been eavesdropping. “Guilty. You’re the one with the ghost tour, right?”
“Guilty,” Sophie said right back, her eyes bright and her smile wide. She moved to Cassie’s table, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “I’m Sophie, by the way. Or maybe you knew that already.”
“Cassie.” Her laptop dimmed, then went dark as it put itself to sleep. It felt like a commentary on Cassie’s work ethic, and it was irritating, like an itch in her brain. But making a potential new friend in this town felt more important than work right now.
Sophie leaned in, as though she were about to impart a secret. “So, is there really a ghost? You have to tell me.”
Cassie hadn’t expected that question. Sophie had seemed so authoritative during the tour she’d overheard. Wouldn’t she know? “I was hoping you could tell me. I heard your tour last week—”
“You did?” Sophie’s eyes lit up as she remembered. “That was you up on the balcony, wasn’t it? You scared the crap out of like half the tour!”
Oh, no. Cassie drew in a breath to apologize, but Sophie’s voice trembled with suppressed laughter, and Cassie let out her breath again. “You’re welcome?”
Now Sophie let her laugh out in a giggle and she nodded. “Anytime you want to do that, feel free. It was great!”
Cassie pictured herself lurking in the shadows of her upstairs balcony, waiting to jump out and say boo to the ghost tour every week. She’d certainly done worse things on a Friday night. “The story you told, out in front of the house. Is it true?”
Sophie nodded emphatically. “Oh, yeah. Mean Mrs. Hawkins has her own chapter and everything.” She pulled a book out of her satchel and handed it across the table.
“Her own chapter?” Cassie turned the book over in her hands. Boneyard Key: A Haunted History. It was published by one of those small presses that did histories of towns, books that showed up in every “local history” section of a bookstore. This copy was obviously well loved; the cover was bent, with one corner torn away, and the pages inside were studded with colored Post-it notes. She paged through it, pausing at blurry black-and-white photos of Beachside Drive, a street that was already starting to feel familiar. The silhouette of the buildings was the same, but instead of gift shops and restaurants, the streets were lined with a hardware store and a grocery. Another photo showed that the gray squat building on the road out of town used to be a service station.
“The book’s pretty comprehensive,” Sophie said while Cassie continued to flip pages. “When I started putting this tour together, I found there was more than enough information in here, both about the history of the town and the ghosts. It was written by a local historian about, what, fifty years ago?” She looked over her shoulder to Nick, who leaned against the counter, one leg crossed over the other at the ankle. Cassie hadn’t realized he’d been listening in, but he’d obviously been there the whole time. Watching them. A pleased flush crept up the back of her neck, flooding her cheeks.
He snorted in confirmation. “I think calling Mr. Lindsay a ‘local historian’ might be pushing it. He was our history teacher in high school,” he said to Cassie.
“You two went to high school together?” She looked from Nick to Sophie. Sophie looked young, but maybe that was just the way she looked. Cassie wasn’t going to judge.
But Sophie laughed. “Oh, no. Nick’s an old man…”
“Thanks a lot.”
Sophie continued like Nick hadn’t interrupted. “He was a senior when I was a freshman. We only overlapped by a year.”
“If you went to Boneyard Key High in the last forty years or so, you had Mr. Lindsay for history,” Nick said, obviously letting the comment about his age slide. “Our parents all had to buy us a copy of that damn book. We were like a captive supplementary income to that guy.”
Cassie shrugged. “Not a bad gig if you can get it, right?”
Nick huffed out a laugh. “But yeah. The book was old even back then. Fifty years sounds about right.”
Cassie flipped to the copyright page and there it was: the publication date, and confirmation that this book was almost the same age as her parents.
“He was a huge stickler for facts when we were in school,” Sophie said. “He must have researched the heck out of everything while he wrote the book. But as far as the Hawkins House goes, it’s common knowledge around here that it’s haunted. I’ve never seen any actual activity, though. What about you?” She propped her chin on her hands. “Anything weird going on there since you moved in?”
Sophie looked so eager that Cassie hated to disappoint her. But she shook her head slowly as she handed the book back. “Nothing’s gone bump in the night as far as I can tell. Unless ghosts like to mess with the electricity.”
Cassie had been joking, but Sophie’s eyes flew wide. “Oooh, really? Ghosts have been known to affect electricity. That could be something.”
How was Sophie able to talk about ghosts like they were real? Putting on a ghost tour was one thing—that was entertainment. Fiction. This was real life, which didn’t have things like ghosts in it. It had deadlines. Three of them on Monday, in fact. “Then old Mrs. H doesn’t want me to get any work done,” she said. “My laptop won’t charge at home.”
“Hmmm.” Sophie’s brows drew together, wheels obviously turning in her brain. “That doesn’t match up with anything we know about Sarah Hawkins. I wonder why she’d want to disrupt your electricity?”
“Did you mess with her garden?” Nick was behind the counter again, bustling around but obviously still listening in. “Wasn’t that her thing back in the day? Kids picking the roses or something? Wait.” He stopped, turning from the batch of sweet tea he was making. “There isn’t a garden there anymore, is there?”
“No,” Cassie said. “No garden. The sellers put down sod. It’s all lawn now.” Lawn that looked stupid and was a waste of water, by the way. Now she pictured roses growing along the garden gate, and that mental picture was so much nicer.
“Still.” Sophie was determined to stay on topic. “Why would she mess with your electricity? That’s got nothing to do with the garden.”
“No idea. But I have to come here if I want to get any work done.” Cassie gestured to the outlet where her laptop was still plugged in and charging.
“I knew it.” Nick shook his head as he added ice and sugar to the tea he’d just brewed. “You really do only love me for my Wi-Fi.”
“And the banana bread,” Cassie shot back with a smile. “I’m a sucker for cinnamon.”
Sophie looked from Cassie to Nick. “You two are a match made in heaven.” She slipped the book back into her bag as she stood. “You should come on the tour tonight. On the house. There’s plenty of room. I cap it at twenty, but I’m sure you heard, I’ve only got three people tonight.” She waved the notepad in emphasis. “Call it a housewarming present. You can get a little history of your new hometown.”
Nick cleared his throat. “Maybe I’ll tag along.” He picked at an invisible spot on the countertop with a thumbnail, his voice elaborately casual.
Sophie raised her eyebrows. “I’ve done this tour for five years and you’ve never gone on it. Since when are you interested in local history?”
“Hey, I love this town. You know that. I’ve always meant to go on your tour, just haven’t gotten around to it.” He shot Cassie a look. “Like, how many times did you go to Disney when you lived in Orlando?”
“Not enough to justify the annual pass.” Okay, that was a lie. She made her money back on her trips to the Food & Wine Festival alone. And then she spent it all again on the food and wine. Cassie got what he meant, though. When you had a tourist attraction in your backyard, it was easy to forget it was there.
But Sophie wasn’t fooled. Her smirk was subtle but it was there. “Sure.” She tore the top page off before handing the notepad back to Nick. “See you tonight.”
The sound of the bell chiming followed her out the door, and Cassie turned her attention to Nick. “All this ghost stuff. It’s really a thing?” It was getting to be a lot. She was okay with cutesy names of various shops, and the iconography almost everywhere she looked. That was touristy, and it was fun. But serious questions about ghosts in her house, and a haunted history textbook as part of the local school’s curriculum? That…that was a lot of ghosts.
She desperately wanted Nick to make a joke. He was good at those, and she could really use some snark right now to counteract the shiver that was building at the top of her spine. But his nod, while friendly, was serious. Not a stitch of snark in sight. “It’s really a thing.” He straightened up then, moving to clear away her empty dishes that he’d left on the counter. “I know it all seems gimmicky, something to bring in tourists. And in some ways, it is. But…” He paused, staring hard at the rag in his hand before tossing it in the sink behind him. “It’s a thing,” he said again. “I’m sure Sophie’ll explain it tonight better than I can.”
Cassie didn’t want to end the conversation there, but Nick seemed done. Which was probably for the best. She had a lot of work to do. Especially if she was spending tonight on a walking tour of Boneyard Key instead of catching up on work. She turned back to her laptop, waking it up.
The bell above the door chimed again, and a dark-haired man walked in, raising a hand in greeting to Nick as he headed straight back to the kitchen. “What the hell, man! Nothing’s been set up back here!”
“Sorry!” Nick called. “Been a busy morning.” He rolled his eyes at Cassie, and she stifled a giggle. “I gotta get back there.” He pointed to the kitchen.
She nodded. “See you tonight, then?”
“It’s a date.”
Cassie’s eyes flew to his, taking in the hesitant smile that flashed across his face before he turned to go. She couldn’t keep an answering smile from her face as she pulled up an email to respond to. Maybe she’d stay for lunch after all.