Annette continued, “Our newest committee member, Jackie, is a wonderful example, and our initial volunteers have done a magnificent job building the haunted house. Now it’s time for the rest of you to do your parts. We need ticket sellers, sound and light techs, actors, and people to perform a myriad of other little tasks. I expect everyone here to step up to the plate and take one of these jobs.”
Skye scowled at the mention of Jackie’s name. What in the heck was she doing here, anyway?
Forty minutes later, after announcing that their next fund-raiser would be the Christmas House Walk, making a wish list of business donations, and bullying everyone into agreeing that the Promfest colors would be baby blue and silver, Annette ended the meeting.
As the crowd surged toward the door, Skye made her way to Jackie and tapped her on the shoulder. “Hi, I’m surprised to see you here. Usually only one faculty member attends this type of committee meeting.”
“Uh . . .” Jackie blinked. “Well . . . Homer told me you hated this assignment, and, uh, I said I’d do it.”
“He didn’t mention that to me when I saw him right before coming here.”
“Oh.” Jackie edged backward. “Maybe I misunderstood. But I can’t back out now.”
“Sure you can.”
“I’m not going to.”
“Suit yourself.” Skye shrugged, walked away, and joined the line of people trying to exit.
Kurt materialized by Skye’s side, his thigh and arm brushing hers. “So that’s the new social worker everyone’s talking about.”
“That’s her.” Skye felt an unwelcome sizzle from his touch. “What are they saying about her?”
“She seems to have made quite an impression in a short time. People think she’s charming. They say she’s ready to do anything she can for you.” Kurt craned his neck. “What’s the holdup over there?”
Skye peeked around the group in front of them. “Annette is checking everyone against some list before they’re allowed to leave.”
“Good thing I’m not in a hurry.” A mischievous gleam lit his denim blue eyes.
“Yes. You should circulate.” Skye kept her gaze focused on the woman in front of her. “I’ll bet you’d overhear a lot of good gossip.”
“The only thing everyone’s talking about is what a pain in the butt Annette is being about Promfest. Everything has to be her way or the highway.” He gave Skye a sexy little grin. “But thanks for looking out for me. I kind of thought you didn’t approve of my writing, but maybe my delightful personality has won you over.”
“That must be it.” Skye attempted to infuse her words with sarcasm, but felt her cheeks flame. She looked away and was relieved to see that only one person stood between her and the exit.
“So, what are you doing after—”
Skye stepped up to the door, and Annette’s voice cut off whatever Kurt had been about to say. “Ms. Denison, I see you haven’t signed up to help with A Ghoul’s Night Out. You were doubtlessly distracted by the
Skye narrowed her eyes. What was Annette implying? “Well, I . . . uh . . . that is—”
“It’s probably an oversight,” Annette cooed. “After all, considering how magnanimous your colleague Jackie is being with her time, I’m sure you’ll want to be equally generous.”
“Super.” Annette smiled, revealing pointy canines. “Here’s the sheet.”
At the thought of being inside a haunted house, Skye’s heart raced and her pulse pounded. She took a deep breath and told herself it would be fine. She’d just make sure she signed up for something outside the actual building. She peered at the list. Nearly all the jobs had been taken. The only places with blanks were under “Cast.” Her options were either a witch or Countess Dracula.
She knew she’d never survive being closed up in a casket—the one time she’d hidden in a real one, she’d nearly hyperventilated—which left being a witch. Her pen hesitated above the blank line. Did she really have to do this? Then she recalled Homer praising Jackie:
Skye shook her head. She was being ridiculous. It had been twenty-eight years since her bad experience in a haunted house. As she often told the kids who complained about something that had happened long ago, it was time to get over it. She was too old to be afraid of things that went bump in the night. Taking a firm grip on the pen, she resolutely signed her name on the line next to
Владимир Моргунов , Владимир Николаевич Моргунов , Николай Владимирович Лакутин , Рия Тюдор , Хайдарали Мирзоевич Усманов , Хайдарали Усманов
Фантастика / Самиздат, сетевая литература / Историческое фэнтези / Боевики / Боевик / Детективы / Любовное фэнтези, любовно-фантастические романы