Page 79 of Seale the Deal

Not if she was murdered by the stalker, Remi says, and then her eyes widen. Oh! That’s good.

Before I can ask what she’s talking about, she disappears back into her office.

I follow and step into the small room, which is littered with scraps of paper and a corkboard overflowing with Post-it notes and piles of her books in various languages piled all around the room haphazardly. I wonder how she focuses in here.

Don’t you owe your publisher another book in your Alaska series? I say as I pick up one of the collector’s editions of her first book.

Yeah, yeah. She waves me off. This is just creative porn. I’m trying to keep my brain active while I figure out how I’m going to convince readers that a corporate woman from Miami would absolutely gut a moose.

That’s a very specific problem.

Writer life, she replies dryly. There. Done. God, this stalker is so unhinged. I’m kind of falling for him. She looks at me. Do you think I should write dark romance under a brand-new pen name?

Uh— I don’t know how to answer that. I love my sister and that she found her calling writing, but I’m not exactly a reader. And a book about a stalker doesn’t sound romantic to me, but to each their own.

She waves a hand before I can answer. What am I saying? Between writing and this Netflix deal, I don’t have time.

I smile at that. I’m proud of her for finally getting the TV deal she’s been on the edge of for a while. She says it’s normal for networks to show interest and then drop it, but I could see it was painful for her each time.

Anyway, she says, facing me, what brings you here?

I was thinking about heading up to Anchorage this weekend, I say. Let Wrenley see the sights, you know, outside the airport.

Remi furrows her brows. Anchorage? Yeah, I mean, I guess that makes sense. We do need some things for the wedding, and Wrenley mentioned only having a cotton dress, but maybe taking her to a wedding dress shop would inspire her to go thrifting for a dress she can alter.

Oh… yeah…

Actually, that’s a great idea. Remi beams. When are we leaving?

My stomach drops.

How do I backpedal out of this without saying, Actually, I want to go alone with Wrenley so I can figure out if this attraction is just proximity or the start of something? This whole thing has been the three of us, and there’s no way to break up the group without raising suspicion.

I point at her laptop. Don’t you need to write?

Laptops are portable, she says. I’m sure I can make deadline if you guys are cool doing a few things alone.

That somewhat solves my Remi problem. If she’s working, I can get Wrenley on her own without getting questions from my sister about why I want her on her own.

Should I book a hotel, then? I ask.

She tilts her head back and forth. Talk to Wrenley, and then we can go from there.

I nod. Okay, sounds good. I’ll let you get back to your stalker killing people.

Cool.

I start for the door, and then my sister speaks again. Hey, Ruger?

I turn. Yeah?

She looks at me with a smile. Wrenley. Everything is going good there?

Of course, I reply, maybe a little too quickly. Why would you ask?

You went camping last night, and Wrenley stayed here with me, she says. She made it sound like it was out of nowhere.

Remi’s tone makes me worry that I upset Wrenley, which I didn’t mean to do. All I wanted was a little space for perspective. I didn’t get it, but at least I tried.