Willow shrugged and readjusted her stack of towels Me I guess Really Molly sounded skeptical again Don’t you already have enough to do With school and every I’ve got everything under control Willow assured her The hotel is doing great We’re full all twelve rooms We’re booked up for dinner Plus our Zagged rating is through the roof I checked it first thing this morning and we’re up to four and three-quarters stars And Dad was wearing shoes yesterday Willow added silently to herself Real shoes The ones with the ugly tassels The ones he used to wear when he had been the one worrying about the linens busted toilets and towels Willow opened her mouth to tell Molly this but she was interrupted by a soft chime from the back of the hotel That’ll be the linen delivery Right on time Willow said swinging around to grin triumphantly at Molly See what I mean Under control If you say so Molly said still sounding unconvinced Willow Pierce the Hotel Ivan’s concierge appeared in the doorway Francisco Pierce was everything a concierge at a haunted hotel should be polite efficient and just snobby enough to lend the place an air of quality His pasty face was usually fixed in a mild frown and he was inevitably dressed every bit as sharply as he had been on the day he died more than three hundred years ago The Fosters are checking out Now Willow squeaked checking her phone It was six thirty in the morning I thought they were leaving tomorrow Why
I don’t know But they’re demanding to speak to someone Living Pierce rolled his eyes at the outrageousness of such a request as the back door chime rang for a second time Bree Willow called catching sight of the Hotel Ivan’s office manager social media director Would you mind Wi-Fi’s down again Bree muttered as she speed-walked through the lobby toward the cabinet where they kept the router I do not have time for this if I’m going to get today’s Instagram post up Bree a pretty black woman in her mid-twenties was one of the youngest ghosts at the Ivan both because she’d died so young and because her death era the 1960s was so recent Her hair was almost always styled in the same large Afro she’d worn in life and she was never without her Nikon camera which hung from her neck on a sparkly purple strap Besides Bree continued reaching into the depths of the cabinet you know the linen service won’t accept a ghost signature Not liking her options Willow walked resolutely to an office door marked HOTEL IVAN STAFF ONLY and flung it open Dad The office was cluttered and cramped and Willow’s father sat hunched over a desk in the corner His face was bathed in the light of an ancient computer monitor Willow realized with a start that her father’s pale complexion was starting to look every bit as pasty as Pierce’s Busy he said Could you help for a sec The linens are here and I also have guests checking out I need somebody Living Willow stumbled to a stop Her father’s eyes hadn’t left the computer screen And there were slippers on his feet today Fuzzy worn cotton slippers The ones with a hole in the left heel Did you go to your appointment with Dr Strode yesterday Willow asked knowing the answer even before her father shook his head
I was busy I’ll go to the next one OK Willow muttered and closed the door The door chime rang a third time Pierce started tapping his foot and Willow stared at the pattern of the wood grain above the door handle wondering what to do Finally she heard her mother’s voice inside her head Guests always come first Right Willow dumped the towels into Pierce’s arms ran a distracted hand over her curls and headed to the front desk Can I help you she said to the impatient couple waiting there The Fosters isn’t it Yes Are you in charge here Mr Foster asked He was tall and mostly bald He and his wife were both blinking uncertainly at Willow Yes I am Willow answered and paused giving them a moment to adjust to the idea of a twelve-year-old in a position of authority Most adults needed a moment for that she had found What can I do for you We’re checking out Mr Foster barked Immediately Is there a problem with your room Willow asked in her most patient voice If it’s about the toilet I’ve been meaning to It isn’t the toilet Mr Foster said snippily It’s more the general atmosphere The atmosphere We thought it would be scarier Mrs Foster cut in looking a tad embarrassed to have said that out loud Scarier Willow repeated Yes Mr Foster pulled a crumpled Hotel Ivan brochure out of his pocket We were under the impression that this was a real haunted hotel
