Billionaire Ghost Tour - Stephanie Fowers Page 0,10

“The ‘Don’t talk to me, you’ll look like you’re crazy because I’m a ghost’ T-shirts came in,” she told Mollie. “Receipts are on the bug case.”

The glass case making up the counter to the side housed a massive insect collection that likely had been someone’s high school biology project. “Eureka Springs Ghost Tour” magnets and Tim Burton figurines were sold at the register for half price. Other novelties covered the walls with pirate flags, newspaper clippings of alien sightings, and “we are watching YOU” memorabilia glowing under black lights.

“They overcharged us three dollars,” her mother continued, “so don’t put the T-shirts out yet until I take care of the bill.” The hard lines of her mother’s face were often put to good use scaring patrons on their ghost tours, frightening teenagers from the premises, and bluffing in a card game, but when Mother Renee glanced over and caught sight of Mollie, she easily broke the spell with laugh lines cutting across the corner of her eyes. “What’d you do to yourself, kid?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” Mollie should’ve known that her mother would notice. “Don’t look at me.” She tried to cover her face.

Her mother’s red lips stretched across her face as she snapped her compact shut. She’d often joked that Mollie had inherited her red hair so she’d wear some color, so of course, her mother would approve of the makeover. “Did you get into a box of crayons?”

Mollie dropped her hands, letting her mother get the last laugh. “Don’t get used to it. Lily decided to test out her new cosmetic line on me.”

“Hmm, give Lily O a room in the back. She can do your makeup every time you come in to work. Maybe then you’d date more.”

“Mother Renee!” Mollie cried out. Her mother preferred Mollie call her by her first name—she’d always thought it would be good practice if Mollie ever got lost in a crowd, but now that Mollie was older, Renee still insisted on going by her first name. Mollie played along, though “Mother Renee” was their compromise. She fixed her mother with a stern look. “Stop reminding me about my horrible dating life.”

“I’m just trying to help. What mom doesn’t want her daughter to be happy?”

Well, none of Renee’s failed relationships made her all that happy. Mollie didn’t say anything, because she wanted her mother to find love one of these days, even if she accidentally fell into it. Strangely, Mollie was still a romantic, even after watching what her mother went through with her own love life. Maybe that made Mollie into one of those starry-eyed boxers cornered against the ropes—bloodied, black-and-blue yet still determined to fight against the fates. No way would Mollie want anyone to know what she wanted most in this world—a good, solid relationship—especially when it seemed so impossible. It was why she hid her heart from everyone.

Mother Renee patted Mollie’s cheeks. “Stop trying to hide that lovely face of yours. This is perfect timing. Cassie was going to take the shift tonight, and I told her to get lost. You should be thanking me.”

Suspicion immediately flooded Mollie. “For what?”

“Your private tour.”

Mollie’s brows shot up. “Say what? The night before Halloween? This is our biggest night!”

“Yup, with one of those billionaires taking up residence in that fancy mountain habitat. He bought your tour out. Honestly, if Brooklyn and Charlize can snag one of those fat cats, there’s no reason my girl can’t. You need to strut your stuff tonight.” Mother Renee lifted her finger just as Mollie’s throat tightened. “Hey, a mother can dream.” Her sharp gaze roved critically over Mollie’s topknot. “No, no, that’ll never do.” She reached over and tugged Mollie’s red hair from the floppy bun and the thick strands fell all over her shoulders to rest against her back. Too late, Mollie noticed the gargantuan curling iron resting to the side. The oversized barrel was still hot after being used on her mother’s hair, and the plug went right back into the green wall.

“Mother Renee!”

“For goodness sake! Just have a little bit of fun for once.” Yes, but whose idea of fun was this? Her mother snatched at a brush and ran it through Mollie’s hair first. Mollie immediately relaxed—she always enjoyed when her mother played with her hair, never caring what it looked like afterwards; Renee’s fingers had the same taming effect as they would on an unruly cat. Mollie stopped just short of purring and instead smiled serenely up as her mother pursed her lips