Chapter 3

3

TALLULAH

I burst through the doors of the guest house on the sprawling Carmichael property, inhaling the dusty air and grinning. According to some quick research I’d done on the internet last night, this so-called guest house was not only two stories, but it also had four bedrooms, two and a half baths, a study, three living areas, and a parlor, and it was all freaking mine.

I still couldn’t believe it.

I also couldn’t remember a happier moment in my entire life than when I walked into that guest house. Niall Morrison had seemed so shocked when I’d accepted his offer of living here, and I had a feeling he’d been trying to scare me with the ghost thing, but I was more than pleased with the arrangement.

For months now, I’d been sharing a single bedroom apartment with three roommates, sleeping on a futon with all my belongings in a suitcase held together with duct tape. So ghosts or no, this was the high life. If nothing else, the spirits wouldn’t keep stealing my granola bars like that inconsiderate bitch Amanda.

I carried my broken suitcase into the foyer and dropped it with a dull thud on the hardwood floor. I ignored the tiny puff of dust it kicked up when it landed. Cleaning wasn’t a problem for me. I’d dust for a whole year if it meant getting to live here.

Grinning even wider, I looked around the house and wondered if I should be waiting for the other shoe to drop. He’d said I could live here and he definitely owned the property—I’d checked, just to make sure I wasn’t being scammed before giving up my futon—but this seemed too good to be true.

The ceilings were high and beautifully pressed, a few cobwebs visible here and there, but that didn’t bother me. Spiders ate other bugs. Beneath my feet, gorgeous, original wooden flooring stretched as far as the eye could see, and as I moved from the foyer, to the living areas, kitchen, and up the stairs, I almost forgot how to breathe, I was so excited.

This place was incredible, filled with antique furniture and old-world charm, with tons of dark, creepy corners and closets. I hadn’t seen the main house yet, but I couldn’t quite get my head wrapped around that this was a guest house . A secondary house.

It was amazing, and I suddenly couldn’t wait to see what the actual Carmichael place looked like. The place wasn’t as familiar to me as the Rampart Mansion. I was supposed to meet Niall there in a few hours after I’d gotten settled in, though, so I’d be seeing it soon enough.

Niall .

At the thought of his name, I slowed down on the sweeping staircase, my hand lingering on the smooth wood of the banister. In my excitement to become a tour guide after our first meeting, I’d neglected to look up the enigmatic man who’d inspired my new career path.

Having been summoned to his office on no notice at all, I hadn’t had the opportunity to Google my prospective employer prior to our meeting either. I’d had no idea I’d be interviewing with him until I’d walked in.

I had, however, finally done a search on him last night—after I’d already accepted his offer. Frankly, nothing I learned about the man made me want to back out, but I’d been curious.

As it turned out, Niall Morrison was an honest-to-God real estate mogul. At only thirty-two, he was a mere four years older than me, but he’d achieved a heck of a lot more. Known for being cold, a little mean, and iron-fisted, he’d gained a reputation for getting what he wanted, and as far as I could tell, no one messed with him.

Strangely, he’d been quoted in one of the articles I’d read as not being particularly fond of Halloween and yet he’d proudly hosted the Hallow’s Eve Festival for the last several years. He also lived in a haunted house, which made it pretty difficult to get a read on the guy.

According to every source I’d been able to find, it was about preservation, restoration, and rejuvenation rather than ghosts for him. Which was fair. He clearly had a lot of respect for the city and its history, and I respected that in turn.

I finally continued up the stairs. The four bedrooms were split evenly on either side of the staircase. Each pair of bedrooms shared a bathroom, and there was a guest toilet downstairs. I was looking forward to trying all of them at some point.

After checking them all out, I chose a cozy bedroom on top of the kitchen as my own and plopped my suitcase on top of the bed. Niall had told me that the house had been modernized, at least in terms of the plumbing and electrical. Aside from the dust and spiderwebs, the place was neat and ready for a new occupant. I smiled as I gathered a load of dirty laundry from the top of my suitcase to take downstairs with me.

“To any ghosts who might be listening to me right now,” I said out loud. “I’m a friend and I’m excited to meet you.”

The doors of the intricately carved wardrobe didn’t move, nor did I see the eyes in any of the paintings on the walls flick toward me. The queen-sized, four-post bed didn’t suddenly shift an inch, and the white drapes in the windows didn’t ripple in an inexplicable breeze. No drawers in the dresser rattled and no chains clanked.

Absolutely nothing happened. It was mildly disappointing, but I shrugged. “It’s okay if you’re shy. Or scared. We’ll get to know each other soon enough.”

After that, I headed downstairs and found the scullery situated off the kitchen. I dumped my dirty laundry in there to do later and practically skipped from the house to explore the outside. Every nook and cranny of the sprawling grounds fascinated me.

Eventually, I had to tear myself away from the beautiful, landscaped gardens and the grand old trees for my meeting with Niall.

The plantation was stunning, though. An absolute paradise as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t stop smiling as I popped back to the guest house— my house—to grab my laptop before I headed over to the main house.

When I arrived, a group of tourists was on their way in as a huge bus pulled away from the top of the long drive. A guy about my own age welcomed them warmly, waiting until everyone had gathered around him on the porch before he ushered them inside.

“I have three guides on rotation here,” Niall suddenly spoke up behind me.

I whirled around and grinned as I found myself looking at the man responsible for giving me the best home ever.

“Three?” I asked. “Does that include me?”

Those bright blue eyes narrowed the tiniest bit on mine. “I thought I made it clear that your role here is as a project manager. Do you know what that entails?”

I shrugged, refusing to let him crush my vibe. Not today, Glacier. Not today.

“I know what it entails,” I said happily. “I was just wondering if I would also be showing people around. Cool your jets. Okay, so three guides on rotation. Got it.”

“One of the tours is at night,” he continued, lifting a hand to run it through his blond hair. “It’s a ‘haunted mansion’ theme. People seem to love it, but don’t ask me why. The point is that you shouldn’t be scared when you hear guests coming and going at night. Or the occasional scream.”

“I won’t be, but thanks.” I looked back at him. “What do you mean you don’t know why people love it? Of course, they love it. You live in a haunted mansion. I thought you’d know exactly why they love coming to places like this.”

“No, I live in an historic home in the Garden District, which just so happens to be rumored to be haunted. It’s been ghost-free so far, thankfully.”

I frowned, my eyebrow arching just a little bit. “An historic haunted home.”

He sighed, and his strong jaw clenched as he shook his head. “Have you seen the architecture of that place? Heard its history? It’s one of the finest examples of the gothic style in town and its history is rich and long. It may be checkered as well, but show me a place that old that doesn’t have a few blights on its record.”

“Wait,” I said as I frowned at him. “Hang on. You’re telling me that you bought it in spite of the rumors and not because of them?”

“Of course.” He waved for me to precede him into the main house. “I’m not into the lore and the scary things. Why would I buy a house to voluntarily have ghosts bothering me, moving around all my stuff? No thank you.”

I almost laughed, but I held it back. The man was my new boss and we were on shaky ground as it was. I already loved my new home and I was determined to impress him enough to be his long-term project manager. Making fun of him on my first day might not be the wisest idea.

For the moment, I zipped my lips shut and let him show me into a room that had been set up as an office. He slid his hands into his pockets and glanced at me. “You’re free to use this as yours. We’ve also set up an office for you on the first floor of the guest house. It’s up to you which one you use, but I’m going to need you to come into town at least twice a week to meet with me.”

“Sure,” I agreed easily. “I can do that.”

“As long as the Uber drivers are still willing to bring you back out here after our meetings,” he mused as if he was confused by the notion. “Why don’t you have a car?”

I shrugged. “I guess I just never really needed one, but I do have a bike. If push comes to shove, I’ll just pedal into town.”

He gave me one of those ice-lord looks, dripping with skepticism. It was a look he’d definitely perfected, and I very much doubted this would be the last time he’d be aiming it at me. “Let’s try to avoid biking down any highways. I’ll send a car for you if need be. For the occasions on which we might run late.”

I brushed off that last comment, striding across the room to sit behind the fancy desk overlooking the gardens. “So, what exactly do you want me to do for the festival? I’ve got a lot of ideas. Do you know where I can source about a dozen goats?”

His phone rang and he glanced at me. “No live animals. Too messy. Now I’ve got to take this. Get settled in. We’ll talk later.”

He walked out of the room after completely shooting down my goat idea without properly hearing it. Some people had no vision. I set up my laptop and waited for him to get back, but when he didn’t reappear, I shook my head.

It looked like I would have to figure things out by myself, which was just fine. I worked better without restrictions, and so far, my only limitation was no living creatures. That left me plenty of room to work with.

I wonder what Niall thinks about fake blood.