[COMPLETED] When a handsome hotelier is accused of murder, he has no choice but to rehire the woman he fired after she claims to be a psychic who can prove his innocence.
Handsome, wealthy, and charismatic-- it's hard to believe anyone would leave p...
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Knox's eyes flashed in anger before he turned away from Nessa. "Alright, let's say you're right. Let's say you really have spirit friends who told you I was out of town at a meeting."
"An AA meeting," Nessa clarified.
Knox turned back to Nessa and eyed her suspiciously. "What makes you think I didn't kill my maid before I left? It would have been possible."
"Unlikely, but I guess you're right." Nessa shrugged. "So, are you going to give me a job? Or am I going to have to run after those detectives and tell them I'm a ditz who got her days mixed up? Should I tell them you were with me two days ago and not last night?"
"You wouldn't do that. They'd know you were lying."
Nessa smirked. "I doubt it. All they'd have to do is look at my work history and they'd definitely believe I'm a ditz."
His eyes narrowed and he sat back down behind his desk. "Fine. I'll give you a job."
"And I want business cards. I'll need them to give to my parents."
Knox frowned. He leaned forward, his elbows on his desk. "Your parents are wealthy. Why not ask them for a job?"
Nessa sighed. "You wouldn't understand. You live off your parents' legacy."
"Now wait a minute. I worked hard to-"
"I'm not saying you don't work hard. I'm saying I don't want to look back at what I did in life and think I got to where I am because of my parents."
"Is it really so wrong to get help from them?" Knox asked.
Nessa tapped her head. "Remember my ghosties? Well, my parents don't exactly believe me. The only person who ever did was my grandmother and she's not around anymore so even if I wanted their help, it comes with a cost. They've never truly been able to accept me for who I am. Do you know how lonely that is?"
Knox studied her, tapping his fingers against his mouth as she spoke.
"Okay," Nessa said. "I just told you a big personal secret. Now it's your turn, Mr. Twinkles. How long have you been sober?"
"Mr. Twinkles?"
"Do you prefer Knock Knocks? It's better than the nickname you gave me. Pants Pervert."
The corner of Knox's mouth twitched upward "It was deserving at least. Now, I'm going to have to explain my tattoo to Patrick."
"Stop avoiding the question. How long have you been sober?"
"Why should I tell you?"
Nessa grinned. "I already know the answer. I just want to hear it from you."
Nessa could've sworn she heard a growling noise from him but he answered.
"A year."
"The whole ordeal of being left at the altar really did a number on you, huh? I guess I can understand that. You're one of those rich narcissist types women usually fall for and do anything for. You're like the business tycoon in a romance novel. How dare she leave you at the altar!"
