LITMIR.BIZ

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      He grinned right back at her, fully aware that he was acting less than the perfect hotelier. “Where do you want these?”

      She looked past him, stopping with a nod. “There’s Erin. Follow me.”

      He did so, gladly. Stepping around legs and arms and sometimes whole people as they made their way to what looked like a quiet spot on the left side of the room, not too close to the stage. Erin was sitting with three … no, four young men. The only surprise was that it was only four. Just as he’d suspected, the boys were buzzing around her like bees after honey. He doubted even one of them expected to score, but they would all have plenty of fantasy material for the next time they were alone. He remembered exactly what that was like, and it worried him that it was a little too close to what he was feeling about Carrie as he dropped her comforter on the carpet.

      “What are you doing here?” Erin said.

      “Shhh.” That from about six different people.

      Carrie bent to spread her comforter and Sam stepped right in to help. He wasn’t feeling tired any longer, even though he knew he was being a fool.

      “I’m here to find ghosts,” Carrie whispered. “What are you doing here? Hi, Elton.”

      Sam found Elton via his name tag and his little wave. He was one of the throng surrounding Erin and he fit the bill. Young, thin, ghost T-shirt, long hair. Besotted, but not just with Erin. Sam saw the way Elton looked at Carrie. He stepped in between the two of them, reminding himself that it wouldn’t do to threaten a guest.

      The other boys were excited about the new female, and damn, he wished he had his camera. They were like a pack of beta wolves, preening and scuffling, even as they sat on the floor with their power drinks, candy wrappers and electronic devices, which were primed for texting. They were all probably trying to figure out how to announce Carrie’s arrival in one hundred and forty characters or less.

      “So, anything happen?” Carrie asked.

      “A temperature anomaly, but nothing significant,” Erin said.

      It was odd hearing their whispered voices, along with all the other whispers. It made him think of a room full of moths.

      “Well, it’s early yet,” Carrie said, then she turned to him. “Are you going to hang out for a while?”

      He nodded. “For a while.”

      “Great. I’m going to get coffee. I have the feeling it will be necessary.”

      “I’ll go with you.”

      She led him back across the patchwork quilt of bodies. No one seemed to think it was odd that he was here, and a few even smiled in recognition. Why should they care? Most of them probably thought he was just another guy who worked here. Which was good.

      Being with Carrie was better. She poured them each a hot coffee. She put stuff in her cup, then eyed the remaining food.

      “Never let this chef go,” she said, her low voice causing her to step close to him. “She’s unbelievable. I’ve eaten so much I should be shot for even thinking about taking more.”

      “It’s good to indulge yourself once in a while. You’re on vacation. You’re supposed to be bad.”

      The way she looked at him let him know he’d been about as subtle as an eighteen-wheeler. “Even vacations have consequences,” she said. But she chose two pink petits fours, both on one plate. “How bad can these be, right?” she asked. “These little things barely count.”

      He grabbed a big old éclair, more to keep himself busy than because he was hungry. “I have no self-control when it comes to Jody’s food. She knows it, too. Once, when she was visiting from Paris, she forced me to eat an entire Bûche de Noël.”

      “At gunpoint, I assume?”

      “No, dammit. Worse. She left it on the counter.”

      Her laugh wasn’t as quiet as it should have been, and she was reprimanded immediately. She glared at the crowd, unsure who’d done the deed. “I mean, come on. If we can’t laugh, what’s the point?”

      He almost laughed, too, but he didn’t dare give off even a hint of disrespect.

      She handed him a fork and a small napkin. “You say she’s going to be here all week?”

      “Jody? Yep. All week.”

      “That is just great. Although I’ll pay for it with exercise when I get back home.”

      “That’s what hiking’s for. I could show you the prime sights.”

      “Wow. If I were a person who hiked, I’d jump all over that offer. But with these hours, I intend to sleep through most of the day. I still have to work, too.” She closed her mouth quickly, pressing her lips together, as if she’d said something she hadn’t meant to.

      Of course he wanted to ask her about it, but again, discretion won out. “Then you can take advantage of the sunsets. You can see those from your room. Also, don’t worry about having to get up and eat dinner. We’re serving late for the rest of the conference, from noon to midnight, breakfast until six p.m.”

      “Everyone in the hotel is with the con?”

      He had just taken a bite of his éclair so he nodded. After he swallowed, he said, “We’ve only got thirty-six rooms.”

      “Ah. Lot’s of doubles and triples. Been there, done that.”

      “Really?”

      “Sure. I went to college in Kentucky, and we used to go to Daytona Beach for spring break. I mean a whole flock of us. I’ve slept on couches and floors. A bathtub once. That sucked.”

      “I know the feeling. I have a very small apartment in Brooklyn. Ever been to New York?”

      “So you probably sleep in the bathtub every night.”

      “Couch. Not a fold-out couch. A short couch. With lumps.”

      “You must really love Brooklyn.”

      He ate a bit, as did she, then sipped his coffee before answering. “It’s either New York or L.A. Although the options are changing as more of the film business spreads across the country. I use a lot of students for my crew, and it’s always last-minute stuff.”

      “I searched you on Google,” she whispered.

      “You did?” Dammit, why hadn’t he thought of doing that? “And you’re still speaking to me?”

      “I must not have looked hard enough. Everything I read sang your praises.”

      He rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t feeling quite so blasé. She’d looked him up. He tried to remember everything on his Web site, what pictures she’d seen, but he couldn’t think. That happened a lot when he was near her. “Hype,” he said. “But I am proud of my films. Some more than others.”

      “Doesn’t it just depress the shit out of you?”

      Now he laughed, loudly enough to get his own rebuke. “Not doing something would depress me more. Not that I’m some massive humanitarian. I just find the real issues to be the most vital. I thought about going into the movie side, but my heart wouldn’t be in it. I want to tell stories that matter.”

      Carrie frowned up at him, although he didn’t think she disapproved. More that she was thinking about what he’d said. “How does that work out with you running this place?”

      He put his empty plate down, but kept his coffee. “It doesn’t.”

      “There needs to be more of that sentence.”

      “Right. As much as I’m fond of the inn, it’s not my life.” He lowered his voice further. “I’m selling it.”

      “Really?”

      “Shhh.”

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