Brady chuckled and opened a cabinet on the wall, revealing a flatscreen TV that would’ve been considered large a decade or so ago.
“I stand corrected,” I said, giving him a nod. “And here I thought the microwave I saw upstairs was the most advanced tech you owned. But who needs tech when you can bring nature inside. Look at these decorations!”
On the wall above me were an assortment of wreaths made of leaves, dried flowers in old vases, and even a set of large antlers. “I may have to hire their decorator for my place. Think I should?” Maybe I was being a bit snarky, but as a wave of responses from my followers filled the screen, it reminded me of how much these guys had humiliated me a week ago in their fake Pleasure Institute.
Continuing around the room, I showed my viewers the door to the other half of the basement. “They won’t let me back there,” I said, for theatrical effect, “but I’m pretty sure that’s where they stash the bodies of people who criticize their inn.”
The silence behind me let me know that they weren’t going to dignify that with a response. I winked at my viewers. “But don’t worry, if they try anything, they might find out where I stash the bodies of people who promise me amazing massage tech and don’t deliver.”
Judging by the increase in comments, my viewers liked that. I ended my tour of the basement by pointing out more sets of antlers and wreaths made of bundles of old, dried-out sticks. “I’m pretty sure this decorating style is called Early American Twig.”
As I stopped the feed, I was pretty pleased with my last dig at the guys who were holding me hostage here all week. At least until I heard a rich, deep baritone behind me. “Just what this inn needs—a narrator.”
My stomach sank as I spotted the tall, dark, and exasperating figure standing at the base of the stairs.
Gideon was here.
9
COLE
Lila stood in the middle of her room, seemingly perfectly at ease while Brady pawed through the contents of her suitcase. She calmly tugged the spaghetti straps of a small crop top onto a hanger as Brady spotted an electric shaver.
“Ah ha,” he said, a bit unnecessarily. “This has got to go.”
Lila shrugged. “Fine, but when my legs look like a yeti’s, you might regret that decision.”
“We’ll get you a disposable razor,” I told her.
She draped the top over the back of a chair. “And how is that better? Seriously, I get that you guys are all about the low-tech lifestyle, but my shaver is better for the environment. Better than throwing all that plastic in a landfill, at any rate.”
“You’ll get it back at the end of the week,” Brady said. “We’re just trying to prove to you that you don’t have to rely on all of these devices.” He fought back a smile. “And if you look like a yeti at the end of the week, then I guess the joke’s on us.”
“Either way the joke’s on you,” Lila muttered as she folded a pair of yoga pants.
Brady started rooting through her suitcase again, and this time he emerged with a small pair of silk panties dangling from his little finger.
Good god, did she really wear panties that small?
Lila smacked Brady’s hand, and the panties fell back into her suitcase. “Keep your hands off my underwear,” she scolded. She was disciplined enough not to look over at the phone Gideon was holding to make sure he’d gotten that, but I wasn’t. My friend’s face was frozen in concentration as he panned the camera around the room.
He probably thought that Lila had been paying him a compliment by choosing him to record this scene, but I knew better. I’d seen her reaction when he’d startled her downstairs. I could practically see her hackles rise. It was obvious that she blamed Gideon the most for our stunt with the fake massage tech. Of course, she didn’t seem inclined to let Brady or me off the hook either, but she seemed the most pissed off at him.
The whole thing actually had been his idea, but she had no way of knowing that. Even with our other jobs, it was a struggle for Brady and me to keep this place afloat. The taxes on the house and the land went up every single year. Gideon had offered many times to pay for upgrades, but I wouldn’t take him up on his offer. That wasn’t what friends were for.
When we’d first gotten word that a popular online influencer had disparaged us out of the blue, I was mad. So was Brady. But not Gideon. He hatched a plan.
“And this.”
I tuned back into the conversation to see Brady holding a thick toothbrush.
“You can’t be serious,” Lila said.
“It’s electric.”
“I need to be able to brush my teeth!” She turned to me with puppy-dog eyes under those thick lashes.
“I’m sure you can keep your teeth clean without a toothbrush capable of running NASA,” I said.