Back To The Lake Breeze Hotel. Amie Denman

were only lip syncing. He had their attention and relished it for a moment. Reporters, he thought, were a necessary evil. “It’s the squirrels. They’re cute, but they seem to believe we’ve set out a banquet of autumn produce for them. We’ve already had to replace dozens of pumpkins when squirrels chewed holes in the top. We may have to hire a teenager to be full-time squirrel patrol.”

      “Lousy resume builder,” the photographer commented. “I’d hate to see that on a job application.”

      As they stood on the platform with a full view of the midway, Nate saw Alice leave the corporate office with two men. He knew it was her, even from a distance, because her auburn hair caught the autumn sunshine. She also wore a pink dress he’d seen her wear at least once before. A memory of her wearing a pink prom dress while her parents snapped dozens of pictures of them raced, unwelcome, through his mind. He was glad he’d never seen her in her wedding dress because an image like that would be harder to suppress.

      Where was she going with those two men? Nate tried to remember what was on the special events and weddings calendar. He controlled the company website, blog and calendars. Making himself indispensable and forging a permanent career—no matter what happened with his father—had been his goal when he’d first returned home. And then he’d found Alice right in the middle of his nice neat plan.

      Aside from making sure news of Starlight Point got reported on social media, news outlets and the corporate website, he tried not to overlap or get involved with Alice. It was better that way, for both of them. Not that he owed her any favors. His goal was to protect himself, not spare her. He knew she was capable of taking care of herself.

      “Ready to see the food stands and their fall theming?” Nate asked, anxious to shift his thoughts back to his job.

      “Sure.” The photographer put the lens cap on his camera and both men followed Nate down the steps of the cable car platform. They spent the next half hour checking out the menu boards for the food vendors, which included pumpkin pie and ghost-shaped cookies at Augusta’s Midway Bakery, and spiced apple cider at Hank’s Hot Dogs. At Tosha’s Ice Cream stand, the reporter looked skeptically at the fall offerings. “Cinnamon squash ice cream?” he asked.

      “I haven’t tried it yet,” Nate confessed. “I may stick with the pumpkin pie and apple fritters at the bakery.”

      He led the reporter and photographer down the midway, past the Sea Devil roller coaster and the new double coaster that had opened at the beginning of the season. The Shooting Star and Super Star combined a kiddie coaster track winding through and alongside a wild coaster for brave riders meeting the taller height requirement.

      Nate had been out of the area when it opened, but he’d seen the media reports. Although it was a risk for the park to invest so much money in an unusual coaster, it had paid off in rider numbers and increased daily ticket sales—even though those numbers stayed in the corporate office building.

      Starlight Point was on a roll, and remaining open throughout the fall weekends and then again for Christmas weekends was one sign of their fiscal bravery. Alice had talked them into the bold plan, information Jack had shared with Nate in his first week on the job.

      Funny how a woman who wouldn’t go through with her own life-altering event managed to talk the three Hamilton siblings into taking a massive risk with their family legacy. It wasn’t his decision what the Hamiltons chose to do, but the fall and winter weekends were the reason he had something to tell the media. Public relations, he thought, were a whole lot less complicated than private ones.

      Near the Wonderful West Railroad Station, Nate had set up a family and friends picture zone. It was an idea he’d borrowed from his last job, at a large amusement park a thousand miles away. Even though he’d never thought he’d come home and work locally, he wasn’t coming home empty-handed.

      Seeing the photo spot set up with hay bales for families to sit on surrounded by bright orange pumpkins reminded him of a family photo taken when he was eight, his sister was eleven and his mother was alive. His family had sat on hay bales at a local apple farm and had their picture taken. Nate had a copy of that picture on his desk in his office. If only I could go back in time.

      As Nate and his group crossed the train tracks and entered the Western Trail, the decorations shifted from cheerful pumpkins and mazes made of straw bales to spiderwebs and glaring scarecrows. The haunted houses and spooky trails were planned for the back of the park so parents of young children would have no trouble avoiding the scary parts if they chose. Teenagers and adults who wanted to appear brave in front of their friends could bypass children’s games and experience the fall celebration with a much higher thrill rating.

      Bats swung from trees, spiderwebs covered the buildings on the Western Trail, and an arch with a creepy skull with red glowing eyes welcomed them to the Dark Trail of the Undead. Eerie music played even though the park wasn’t open.

      “Not sure I like this,” Bob said.

      “I know what you mean. It’s going to be blood-chilling and definitely not for everyone,” Nate said. He shuddered.

      “Are you kidding?” the photographer asked. “This is the best part. I’m getting a babysitter and coming back here with my wife as soon as the haunted houses open for real.”

      “You won’t be disappointed.” Nate led them down the trail, pausing when the photographer lagged behind to take pictures. “You’ll see the carousel in the Wonderful West is in the process of being transformed, and I’ll give you a sneak preview outside the shooting gallery, which will be a haunted house.”

      “Slow down so I can get a candid picture of you showing us around. It would be great if you’d look scared,” Jason said.

      Nate controlled his expression and managed a smile. No way.

      “It’s not about me. It’s about our guests,” he said. He turned and resolved to keep his face out of the photographer’s lens. He’d rather be the one controlling the news.

      As they passed over a small bridge in the Wonderful West and approached the old-fashioned western-themed carousel, Nate saw a flash of pink among the carousel horses. He herded his group that way, not sure if it was the best or worst plan. Maybe Alice would take Mr. Camera-Happy off his hands. No matter his feelings about her, she was clearly a far more attractive subject than he was.

      She stood between two carousel horses, chatting easily with a couple of men who must be from the haunted house production company. Not exactly corporate types, the men wore faded jeans and company T-shirts. One had a demented clown tattoo on his arm and the other had a week’s worth of beard.

      Starlight Point was hiring them for their talent, not their personal image.

      Alice looked up and saw Nate, and her smile faltered for a moment. Then it flashed back. Nate considered making an excuse and racing in the other direction, but he had to be around her sometime. Might as well take this opportunity to practice appearing to have a cordial relationship.

      Appearances, as any PR specialist knew, were a powerful moderator of behavior. And he needed all the help he could get.

      * * *

      “NATE,” ALICE SAID, stepping down from the platform of the carousel. “I’m glad your group ran into mine this morning.”

      She juggled her bag and a pile of papers and extended a hand to the reporter and photographer from the Bayside Times. “Alice Birmingham, special events coordinator for Starlight Point,” she said. “I believe we’ve met before, but it’s always nice to welcome the local press.” Why hadn’t Nate told her he was bringing in reporters? She would have prepared statements for them with details about the special fall events she’d spent the early half of the year planning.

      She smiled toward Nate with raised eyebrows as if to say, You can try shutting me out, but we work for the same team.

      “We’re getting a tour of the decorations and games for the fall festival,” Bob said.

      “Well then, you haven’t