Mansion with a notepad. He continued walking, staring up at the attic window. Finally, he examined the
Mustang, jotting down a few notes. Several minutes later, there was a knock at the door.
Sebastian fingered his dreadlocks, straightened his shirt, and opened the door.
“Alexander?” we heard Mr. Lunken say.
“No, I’m Mr. Sterling’s assistant.”
“I was just here a moment ago—speaking with an older gentleman. And I noticed a light in the upstairs window and this car…I just thought…”
“He has a very busy schedule,” Sebastian said.
“I can do the story without your help.”
Sebastian paused. “Fine. I think we can work you in. He’ll meet you at Javalicious—”
“I’d like to meet here,” the reporter insisted.
Sebastian turned to Alexander, who shook his head adamantly.
“Please come back in two days after sunset.”
“After sunset?” Giles asked.
“I mean early evening. He’ll be waiting.” Sebastian closed the door.
“What are you doing?” Alexander asked. “We already discussed that I need to remain private. It would be dire to have a reporter see the real Mansion and discover the real me.”
“Then he won’t meet the real you—or the real Mansion. But we can’t put him off. He could write anything.”
“So what is your big plan?”
“He was snooping around anyway—who knows what he might say on his own. We have to show him you’re just like everyone else. Mortal.”
“But you’ve invited him here. And why in two days? We might as well get it over with.”
“He doesn’t need to see the whole house. Just the first floor.”
“Have you seen the first floor?” I said. “It would make a ghost scream.”
Sebastian thought for a moment. “Not when it gets a Sebastian Camden makeover. It will look like everyone else’s home. And you won’t be bothered again.”
Alexander’s stern mood quickly lightened up.
“There’s a reason he’s my best friend,” he said, slapping his arm around Sebastian’s shoulder.
11
Creepy Man and Monster Girl
Mom—I need you!” I declared when Alexander dropped me off at my house. “Where are you?”
I found my parents sitting in the family room. My mom was finishing a scrapbook and my dad was channel surfing.
“I need your help—” I continued.
“I already gave you your allowance,” my mother said, gluing a border on a photograph.
“I don’t need money.”
“I’m not signing a note asking for you to be dismissed early because you want to watch Dark Shadows. I told you to DVR it.”
“Mom. This is way important.”
“Are you suspended?” she asked.
“No.”
“Expelled?”
I shook my head.
“Arrested?”
I folded my arms in disgust. “Are you finished?”
“I’m all ears,” my mom said.
“Alexander needs some new furniture for the Mansion.”
“Hmm…I suppose you want something Victorian? You never know what you might find at a yard sale.”
“We don’t have time to wait for the weekend.”
“How about Annie’s Antiques?”
“No, we’re doing a makeover. We need to make the Mansion look like our home. Or the neighbors’. Or the
Mitchells’.”
My dad came out of his TV coma. “What’s going on?”
“Raven needs some tips on making the Mansion appear more…normal. She wants it to look more like our home.”
My father was confused. “Our home? But we don’t have bats.”