Page 159 of While You Were Trending

“No, I can see it,” Cricket says. “He was really bad when we were faking our meeting in the cellar, but he’s a natural when he can be himself and roll with things. Some people are like that.”

I straighten. “Really bad? I was bad but notreally bad.”

The cat shakes her head like she’s laughing, and the light catches something sparkly in the fur on her face that I haven’t noticed before.

“Reality bed?” Pip says. “I didn’t know it was that kind of documentary.”

“No, he’sreally badat acting, Aunt Pip,” Mabel says.

Cricket grins. “Truth’s the truth,” she parrots back to me. “And it’s actually good that you were bad. People will wonder what was wrong with you that day and talk about the show more. Mysteries are fantastic for ratings.”

My heart’s still sprinting. “What’s going on? What’s with the…accusations?”

“We found a new envelope of cash,” Cricket tells me. “And most of us think it’s you.”

I hold my hands up. “If you want money, make me a business proposition. I don’t play games.”

“Does Shade have money?” Ginny asks me.

“Shade has a high-maintenance boyfriend who doesn’t like when he’s traveling. He’s not leaving anonymous cash donations. He’s spending all of his money on appeasement gifts.”

Everyone looks at Mabel.

She frowns at me. “I didn’t discover that in my research.”

“You wouldn’t,” I tell her.

“Why not?”

“None of your business.”

If word got back to Eddie that Shade’s dating a producer at a rival company, there’d be hell to pay.

I only found out by accident, and only because we’ve spent so much time together filming.

“Point is, he wouldn’t do it,” I say.

Mabel’s eyes pinch, then relax. “They want the chardonnay named after them.”

“I don’t know what to tell you about that. You didn’t ask for the money, and if they insist on being anonymous, then it doesn’t matter what they want, does it?”

She studies me like she’s looking for what I’m not saying.

“Cricket deserves the chardonnay. And Cheeky Beaver Chardonnay is epic,” I argue. “It’d be stupid to change it.”

Mabel slides a look at Ginny.

“I told you he didn’t do it,” Ginny says again.

I lock eyes with Ginny, and her smile does me in.

My pulse slows, my muscles unclench, and I draw a full breath.

“The anonymous donor wants the zinfandel named after them, not the chardonnay,” she tells me.

Fucking test.

I scowl at Mabel, which makes Ginny laugh.