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She huffed. “No, Ryker. It’s not great. She wants to write about us.” She pointed back to the living area. “As in swingers on the trail, or orgy in the mountains.” She shook her head. “She wants to write salacious gossip about us, about me, about you and your brothers.”

I glanced over at Brock and Owen. They hadn’t moved from their posts at the doorways, and judging by their facial expressions, they, like me, didn’t see what the fuss was about.

“My friends and family are going to read that,” she said, now less angry and more hurt.

I put my arm around her.

“I don’t want my life, my private life, on display for others to gawk at, let alone my own family.”

“Did you tell her that? Did you ask her not to write about us?” I asked.

She looked at me like I was crazy. “Of course, I did. She doesn’t care. She’s selfish and only cares about the attention her sensationalist articles will get her.”

A moment ago, I hadn’t cared if articles were written about us, but seeing how hurt Holly was suddenly made me very angry, angry at myself mostly. This is all my fault. I invited Wendy here. What was I thinking? Why was I so foolish?

Brock came over to us, followed by Owen. “Now, now,” said Brock, and he put his arm around her. “We’ll figure this out. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Holly lifted her head from my shoulder and wiped her eyes.

A wave of rage passed through me. How dare she hurt my girl!

“Let’s go in the other room,” said Owen. “Let’s talk this out. We’ll find a solution. Everything’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”

We convened a meeting. Holly explained who Wendy was—a sensationalist journalist who never portrayed her subjects in a good light. She explained how much she valued her privacy and how badly she did not want Wendy publishing anything about her.

“That’s why you never mentioned us in your blog?” said Will.

Holly nodded.

“I get it now,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Holly asked.

“At first,” said Will, “to be honest, I was a little hurt that you were writing about all the people you’d met on the trail and here and around Franklin with no mention of us. But now I get it.”

Holly gritted her teeth and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. Pretty soon, the whole country’s going to be reading about us.” She paced and stomped angrily, shaking her head.

“I don’t think she’ll write anything,” said Lawson, who’d been sitting quietly in the back up until then.

All heads turned to him.

He took out his phone, looked at the screen then put it back in his pocket. “It’s too late now,” he said, “but I’ll call her first thing in the morning.”

“Call whom?” asked Gannon.

“I’ve got a friend who works for ‘Mirror, Mirror.’”

“You do?” said Shaun.

“Yeah. So, do you. Sasha.”

“Sasha works for ‘Mirror, Mirror?’” said Ted, surprised.

“Yeah. She’s one of their top scientists.”

I looked at Holly, confused. She didn’t seem to be understanding how this was helpful, either.

“I told Wendy I would get her an interview with one of ‘Mirror, Mirror’s’ top scientists,” Shaun said to Holly. “I told her I’d call Sasha tomorrow and set it up.” He stopped as if he’d answered all our questions and solved everything.

“And?” I said.

“And now we’ve got leverage,” he said with a smile. “I’ll ask Sasha to grant an interview solely on the condition that Wendy does not write about us.”

Holly shook her head. “She won’t care. She told me she’d rather write about us than write about ‘Mirror, Mirror’ anyway.”

Shaun seemed unphased. “I’m sure she was just bluffing. ‘Mirror, Mirror’ is a big story, and it’s hers as long as she respects our privacy.”

“I don’t know,” said Holly, not entirely convinced but less angry and upset than she’d been a minute ago.

“It’s a great deal,” said Shaun. “She’ll take it. You don’t need to worry. We’ve got your back. We won’t let anything happen to you that you don’t want to happen.”

I could tell from Holly’s facial expression that she was relieved. Shaun had such a calm, cool way of speaking, it was difficult not to believe him. It was difficult to stay worried when he said that everything was going to be all right.

Holly chuckled. “Thank you, Shaun.” She laughed. “God, I was so angry I could have strangled her.”

“You don’t need to strangle anyone,” said Shaun matter-of-factly. “That’s not how we handle things here.”

Holly shook her head. “I know. It was just an expression.”

“Here, everybody knows everybody,” said Shaun, “and we look after our own. Nothing’s going to be written about you that you don’t want to be written. I promise.”

There was a beat of silence, then Holly rushed over to him, grabbed him by the cheeks, and planted a big kiss on the lips. We all cheered. Miles went back to his guitar, and the party started up again, instantly in full swing.


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