“Nah, it happens. I’ll take that over some of the weird shit Lucy’s dealt with.”
“Even with you in the shop, making your scary face and grunt-growling at them?” She grabs toast from the toaster, butters the pieces, stacks them on a small plate and sets them on the table.
I chuckle and scrape the eggs out of the pan onto two plates. “Yeah, I think they expect me to high-five them or something. I usually double the fee as an asshole tax.”
Emery nods slowly. “Lucy’s lucky she works with you.”
“I’m lucky to haveher. She’s really good with clients. All her antics usually put them at ease. I usually send the first timers to her.”
“She does tattoos too?”
“Simpler pieces.” I side-eye her. “Don’t get any ideas. If you ever want some ink,I’mthe one doing it.”
“Yes, sir.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me, then grabs her plate and saunters to the table.
Fuck me, I can’t get through breakfast without wanting to ravage this woman.
I drop into the chair across from her and dig into my eggs.
“Sorry I interrupted you about theSlayride,” Emery says, setting down her fork and picking up her coffee mug. “Tell me more.”
“The town hasn’t been doing it long, but it’s gotten more elaborate each year. You ever done one of those Halloween hayride things?”
“Where they go through the woods and have all sorts of spooky attractions and actors jumping out from behind trees to scare you? Heck, yes. I love those. Wren and I have been to a bunch of them up and down the East Coast.”
“Which one was your favorite?” I ask.
She wrinkles her nose, thoughtful. “It’s actually an hour north of here, I think. But we have a few in Mass that are really good too.”
“Well, besides the haunted hayride we have a ‘lights in the park’ event with Santa and all that stuff for kids.”
“But the crap-your-pants scary events are adults only?”
“I don’t know if they’rethatscary. But they try. Haunted houses, evil elves, rabid reindeer, ice-skating with zombies.”
“All the appropriate holiday horror genres, nice.” She nods with teasing approval. “I’d love to hear more aboutyourpart in all this merry mayhem.”
“I narrate the ‘hayride’ tour. They dress the hayride up like a spooky black sleigh and I share all the scary town folklore with the tourists.”
She raises her eyebrows. “All of it?”
“No.” I snort. “No talk of the Rider. I won’t give him that kind of audience or power.” I set my fork down and lean back in my chair. “This year, it’s a tale of the patients who escaped the haunted asylum up on the hill.”
“There’s a haunted asylum in Crowsbridge Hollow?” Emery’s eyes widen with excitement, and she picks up her phone.
“Slow down, Nancy Drew.”
“Joke’s on you, Nancy Drew books were my favorite when I was a kid.” Her expression melts into something wistful. “When I had book fair money, that’s always where I spent it.”
A faint smile ghosts her lips as she says it, but it’s fast. Like good fortune didn’t come often.
“That absolutely tracks,” I say. “You have a certain vibe.”
“What, curious girl with a notebook and bad timing?” she teases.
“Exactly that.”
She laughs and reaches for the plate in the middle of the table, snagging a piece of toast. “So. What’s the costume situation? Do people go all out?”
