Page 9
“Well, no…”
“Did you expect to sleep in my bed and stay here for free?”
“W-what?” His eyes bugged out his head and a light flush of colour bled into his cheeks. “Your bed?”
I stared at him in confusion. “That’s what I said.”
He rested his elbow on the counter and leaned closer. “Is that option on the table, or…?”
“That’ll be two hundred and fifty pounds for two nights.”
He stood up straight again. “WHAT?! Two hundred and fifty?!”
“For the late notice.” I hummed. “We’re pretty booked up already; only a couple of rooms free.”
Ryan waved an arm around. “There’s nobody here!”
A screech rang through the house and Ryan covered his ears. I smiled genially at him.
“Like I said, we’re pretty booked up. Cash or card?”
His expression of consternation was something to admire. He looked kind of attractive when he was battling annoyance. “I’ll find somewhere else.”
“Sure,” I said, dusting my hands off with another explosion of dust. “We’ll welcome you back again when you stop by tomorrow.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes as he got the threat this time. Me and the squad could come up with an even better plan to defend this place. Maybe Barth was onto something with the cannons.
A hand slammed down on the desk as Ryan said through his teeth, “Fine. Card.”
He slid it across and I picked it up in both hands like I was a video game character who’d just opened a treasure chest. Our first guest in over a month! “Eee!”
“Did you just emote out loud?” Ryan asked.
“None of your business.” I shoved the card into the reader. “And no take backs. Insert your pin please.”
He did so reluctantly and I felt a wash of accomplishment overtake me as it went through.
I turned and grabbed the key for room 108 from the rack of antique keys and slid it over, along with a pamphlet I had printed up myself.
Last Resort, where all your troubles can be put six feet under.
Ryan read it out loud. “I think the marketing needs some work.”
“Do you have any suggestions?” I asked eagerly. “No one sticks around long enough for me to workshop it.” I gathered all my old pamphlets on the desk and spread them out. “These are the old ones the squad helped me out with.”
Arrrgh-uably the best B&B on these seven seas.
Our vacancy rates are to die for!
The Welsh cakes are free—not actually free.
Hauntingly fun, you’ll think about it for years to come—therapy not included.
“I had to add that last part for legal reasons.” I pointed to the last pamphlet.
“I don’t think that was the main problem. Wait, that thing in the kitchen was a Welsh cake?”
I nodded enthusiastically. “Good, right?”
