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“We weren’t sure how much it would affect the renovations out back here,” I said, looking right into the camera. “We knew conditions weren’t even safe enough to drive home that night.”

“We managed to stay safe for the night,” Nathan said, “but no one knew what would happen with the deck here at the brewery.”

I swallowed, trying to think of what to say, on the spot.

What would a person on a TV show say? What would I say? I stared into the big void of the camera lens, suddenly drawing a blank. Why was talking on camera so much harder than a normal conversation?

“Uh,” I started, shifting on my feet. “The next morning, we woke up to a lot of snow.”

Certainly true, but not the most interesting thing I could have said.

Nathan nodded. “We made our way back to the brewery as soon as the roads were plowed. Nerves were high as we walked around the back after some of the snow had melted. Could we have lost everything?”

“Cut!” one of the directors yelled from the side. “That was perfect, Nathan. Really building the tension with that last sentence. That’s the good stuff.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to control my thoughts.

You are not a failure just because Nathan did this better, I told myself.

But even now, I could feel my impostor syndrome rearing its head like an angry snake. I didn’t know how to act in front of TV cameras. I didn’t know the right snappy, catchy things to say. I didn’t even know how to act around my best friend anymore, apparently.

You aren’t cut out for this, I thought silently, and then just as quickly tried to will that thought away.

Because Harlan would have hated it.

And God, all I wanted right now was to be good for him.

“Let’s take it again, and Sawyer, you can take a dinner break,” the director told me. He adjusted his earpiece, talking to some assistant over their communication system. “They’re telling me there’s someone here for you, actually.”

I furrowed my brow, confused. “Someone here for me?”

“Someone’s here for you with Carla. Find her.”

I looked around for Carla, one of the production assistants that helped with the show. I caught sight of her usual high ponytail near the edge of the back lawn by a cluster of pine trees, and when she turned to look at me, my heart didn’t just feel like it skipped a beat, it felt like it fucking froze.

Next to Carla was my mother.

Unannounced.

And not just my mother. She was standing next to a young woman, who I already knew was probably someone that Mom worked with and had brought along here to meet me.

Instantly, my whole body went rigid.

My mom saw me and gave me a quick peek over her designer sunglasses before nodding at Carla and walking over. She seemed displeased with how her high heels were landing in the soft soil of the lawn area, and came up onto the deck looking at the soles of her shoes as she spoke to me.

“Sawyer,” she said. “You didn’t tell me this place was so far up the mountain.”

“I did, actually,” I said. “And I had no clue you were coming here this afternoon. Hi, Mom.”

I went in for a hug which she returned stiffly and quickly before looking back down at her shoes again. “I knew I should have worn the patent leather today instead of the satin. Well, just another cleaning bill.”

“You could have walked inside rather than taking the side lawn, but—”

“Sawyer, I’d like you to meet Natasha DeWitt,” Mom said, gesturing to the young woman beside her. “Natasha is a junior executive in our marketing department, and she’s been assisting me with all of my meetings for the past couple of months.”

“It’s very nice to meet you,” I said, holding out my hand to Natasha. She was beautiful, with bright green eyes, blonde hair, and a warm smile.

“Nice to finally meet you too,” Natasha said. “Ever since your mother mentioned that her son was going to be on the Fixer Brothers TV show, I was intrigued about meeting you.”

“Couldn’t believe she’d heard of it,” Mom said, taking off her sunglasses and waving a hand like she was shooing a fly. “How does a young marketing professional find time to watch reality television?”

Natasha smiled politely. “I fit it in where I can in between long hours,” she said. “It’s my best relaxation material, honestly.”

Mom shrugged a shoulder. “More of a martini person, myself, when it comes to relaxing. Speaking of which, can we please head inside for some refreshments? I sure hope this place has some higher-shelf vodkas.”

“Jade Brewery has everything you could want,” I said, pushing my hair back. “Okay. Sure. Let’s head inside.”

All afternoon I’d felt like some invisible hand was turning up a knob on a flame somewhere below me, like I was boiling from within. Now it was ten times worse. An unexpected pop-in visit from my mother ranked among the worst possible things I could have on any day, let alone on a day where I was already feeling shaky enough.

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