The Guest Book Novels & Stories

one of the event hosts asked, taking a brief look at her. Niya nodded, reaching into her purse. “Yes, of course.” She handed over the invitation. He smiled. “And your business card?” Her pulse spiked just slightly. “I –” “We don’t seem to have you registered,” the woman beside him added, flipping through a really huge tab. “You are...?” “I’m with a guest,” Niya’s voice was calm, but inside, she felt her ribs had just locked her lungs inside. “Sorry?” the woman pressed.

She’s full of surprises. “Look at this Ash,” Lyall says, ushering me over to a guest book lying open on a small table in the corner of the room. “See any names yer recognize?” Oh my god. I take in name after name, feeling my heart beat faster with every one. “Bea and Immy – it was magic. We’ll be back soon.” - Janis, 1st October 1968 “Thanks for everything.” - Kurt, 22nd February 1991

The guest house is along the north fence. The driveway from the road runs straight up through a lane of trees to a parking area in front of the main house, and the parking area has direct lines of sight from the main house's three principal rooms. It’s not Marlborough. The forty-six guests there gave us an excuse to be in the building. Woodside is six very specific guests, a private compound, and a host who’s not going to let any unknown person past the gate. "We're going in over the wall." Chana nods like she was already expecting me to say that.

Brenda was taken aback and quickly shut up. The atmosphere in the room grew tense. Everyone was waiting for Logan's secretary to retrieve the data and find the phone number left by the guest. "There are two guests in total. One booked ten shows, and the other booked thirty," the secretary reported. Logan nodded. "Let's call the one who booked more." Charlotte placed her hand on the armrest of her chair, feeling nervous. Two guests. The answer was already evident. The phone connected, and her heart raced in tandem. However, no one picked up.

Dana nudged me with her elbow. "Told you. You’re trending." The event was more elegant than I expected. Polished white floors, linen-covered tables, soft jazz playing in the background. Waiters moved around offering champagne and tiny hors d'oeuvres on silver trays. "Miss Evans?" a voice called out. I turned to see a tall woman approaching. Late thirties, perfect posture, red lips. "I’m Gabrielle Keene. I handle guest relations for the Circle. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you."

Just movement. Expression. She didn’t hum. Didn’t speak. Just let her body talk where words couldn’t. When she was done, she turned to me and said, “Do you think you can miss someone you’ve never met?” “Yes,” I said. She looked back at the wall. “Then I miss her.” James – POV Skye asked for the guestbook. The old one. The one we started when Rachel first opened the doors to strangers with stories. “Why?” I asked.

I walk up casually, well casually-ish and I lean one elbow on the counter and immediately knock over a stack of brochures. “Oops,” I whisper. “Sorry, my bad. Just, clumsy. Anyway. Hi.” She blinks. “Good evening.” “I’m looking for a guest,” I say, in what I hope is my best elegant heiress with secrets voice. “Mr. Rowe.” “Unfortunately, I can’t give out guest information,” she replies in that sing-song customer service tone that makes me want to scream into my velvet pillow. I nod slowly. “Right. Of course. Privacy. Totally understand.”

If he had not promised to book them a hotel yesterday, he would have just left them and gone off with Etiennette and Paula. "Ametrine Guest House?" Ruby asked Gerald if he knew it, and the latter shook his head. The most famous state guest house in the country was Central Minos Guest House. The other state guest houses scattered across the country were lesser known, and there was only one Ametrine Guest House. Because the place was not open to regular people, civilians like Ruby and Gerald rarely heard about it.

I glared at him, wrinkling my forehead at his know-it-all behavior. "You must be looking for my boss?" came the question that had me staring at him. “You sound so sure, mister,” I scoffed. He grinned and said, “We don’t accept walk-in clients, ma’am, and bookings are closed until eleven. However, all of those who have booked are here, so we're expecting only one at this hour.” “And he asks me to bring him the guest he is expecting at nine,” he adds. I guessed he was telling the truth, so I nodded. He saved me anyway from the hassle of finding the person I wanted to see.

" William looked at my sudden seriousness, confused, but he nodded anyway and left. By the time Shane arrived carrying bags of supplies, all of the Baker family's relatives had shown up, too. The moment they got out of the cars, they started touring the villa on their own, like they already owned it. Rhett stood at the entrance, grinning as he greeted everyone, telling them to sit wherever they liked, as if that place were already his. Watching the greedy looks in their eyes, I actually felt relieved. 'I'm not afraid that you want it. I'm only afraid that you won't stay,' I thought.