And despite everything, I manage to successfully avoid Porter Garrison the entire time.
Which takes skill.
Because the man has an uncanny way of just popping up out of thin air.
But after he caught me sunbathing on my lunch break earlier this week, it feels safer to walk the other way when I see him coming.
Especially since Diana has been watching me like a hawk ever since she saw us walking into that restaurant together.
I noticed it immediately the following Monday morning.
The way her eyes tracked me across the lobby when I arrived. The way her questions suddenly turned sharp and pointed.
“Did you enjoy dinner the other night?”
“Did you and Mr. Garrison have anything interesting to discuss?”
“Oh, how nice that he is taking an interest in your performance.”
That tone. Sweet on the surface.
But underneath?
Pure cat.
And the last thing I need is a jealous coworker sniffing around me. Because I know myself. If someone comes at me with claws out, I will undoubtedly bite back.
Harder.
And that won’t end well for anyone.
So, I keep my head down. Focus on work. And avoid Porter whenever possible.
Which is surprisingly easy during a convention week because I’ve been buried in hospitality logistics.
Today, I saw the last of the teenagers and chaperones off and made my way home a little early.
When I finally make it to my bedroom, I quickly shower, washing the day’s stress away, crawl into bed, and open my book. The one I ordered online last week.
The Lady in Red: The Haunting of the Belicourt Hotel.
Despite Porter’s very firm warning that the whole story is ridiculous folklore and his stern order for me to drop the subject, I’m halfway through it now.
And honestly?
It’s even more fascinating than I expected.
The author did serious research. Actual interviews.
She tracked down former employees who worked at the hotel back in the day—bellmen, housekeepers, kitchen staff.
Even a few elderly guests who claimed they’d seen and heard things themselves.
According to the book, the rumors started sometime in the late 1930s.
The story goes that a young woman accidentally fell—or was pushed—from one of the balconies of the main inn onto Cottonwood Court below.
No official records exist.
