Page 48 of Sweatpants & Sweet Tea

I briefly considered the exposure that appearing on the show could bring to Farm Strong. I’d seen firsthand what being featured on a television program could do for a small business after Southern Comfort was the backdrop of the Comfort brothers in theWhat Is Love?doc and how much tourism increases whenever Abernathy Manor is on a paranormal show.

That in itself should have been enough for me to say yes. It wasn’t. The sole reason I’d agreed to go on a televised date with Daphne Moore was because of good ol’ fashioned jealousy. The green-eyed monster had been the one to say yes to the date. It was that simple.

For one thing, I knew that Dawson, Elias, Mark, and Jerry were going out with her regardless, and if I said no, there would be a line of guys ready to take my place. There was no way in hell I was going to let that happen. It was bad enough that four of my friends were going on a date with her; I didn’t need to make it five.

Behind me, I heard the screen door squeak as it was opening. I turned as Weston walked inside, careful not to let the screen slam in his wake, which was a particular pet peeve of Grandad’s.

“Mornin’,” I greeted him with a nod, then checked the time, wondering if he’d come to find me because I was running late.

I’d barely slept, so I’d showered and dressed thirty minutes before I typically did. But I had no clue how long I’d been standing and daydreaming in the kitchen. When I saw the time, I was happy to see that there were still fifteen minutes before our first class started.

“Hey, there’s some people here with a camera.”

“Camera?” Since my TikTok had blown up, there’d been quite a few social media influencers who took the class for content. I assumed that’s what he was referring to.

“Yeah, from the dating show.”

“Really?”

I knew that my date wasn’t scheduled for another week and a half. Was Daphne going to my class on a date? Talk about salt in the wound. I knew that we’d only shared one night together, and since I thought she was going to be gone the following day, we hadn’t made any promises to each other, but still… it wouldn’t be fun to watch her on a date with one of my friends.

When I walked outside, I saw three people beside a black SUV. I recognized two of them from the group I’d seen arrive next door earlier this week. The tall, bald man with a handlebar mustache and a woman with short brown hair and black glasses. Then there was a younger man who looked like he belonged in a boy band.

“Hi, Harlan, Lydia, I spoke to you on the phone.” Lydia shook my hand and then motioned to the two men beside her. “And this is Phil, our director of photography, and Ernie, our production assistant.”

I held out my hand and shook Phil and Ernie’s hands. “Hi.”

When I turned my attention back to Lydia, the confusion must have shown on my face.

“Did you not get my message? I called last night.”

“You did?” I pulled out my phone and saw that I’d missed a call from an unknown number. I’d thought it was just Gus calling with more bad news. “Sorry. I didn’t see it.”

“We’re just here to get B-roll for your segment.”

“Bee roll?” Weston questioned.

“Basically, just some footage of the class that we can play during Harlan’s introduction.” Lydia looked back at me. “And then after your class, if we could grab you for a talking head, that would be great.”

Would it? I had no clue what a talking head was. “I have another class right after this one.”

“It should only take about fifteen minutes.”

I glanced over at Weston, who gave me the nod that he would cover the start of the second session.

“Okay,” I agreed.

Lydia handed me an iPad that had a waiver needing my electronic signature for the use of my image and also Farm Strong. Typically, I didn’t sign anything without having a lawyer look it over, but it was fairly straight forward, and I did want the exposure for the class.

When I handed it back to her, she explained the shots they wanted to get and instructed both Weston and me to completely ignore them and act like they weren’t there.

As the class arrived, Ernie made sure everyone signed the paper waivers. Several of the participants ran back to their cars and put on makeup. I did my best to ignore the cameras, but I found it easier said than done. I’d always had exceptional peripheral vision, which had helped in sports but made it nearly impossible not to notice movement out of the corner of my eye.

The fifty-five-minute class felt like it took an eternity before I finally blew the whistle. Weston took over running the next class as Ernie mic’d me, and Lydia gave me the rundown of what the interview would entail. I was trying to pay attention to what she was saying, but I was a little distracted because I spotted Daphne sitting in the sunroom with her aunt having coffee.

Lydia directed me to stand in the center of the field in front of the camera, which was now on a stand. Phil was behind it, and Lydia was beside it.

“Okay, just look at me; don’t look at the camera. I’ll ask you questions, and you answer them. It’s that simple,” Lydia explained.

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