Page 14 of A Very Happy Thanksgiving
“We will. We’ll need you to talk to your fans.”
Ah, the infomercial. Marc’s mind went into overdrive. If they wanted him to make a speech or record a video, could he drop a hint about their location? Okay, so he didn’t quite know where they were currently—slight drawback—but the authorities must be monitoring this kind of thing, right? Maybe they’d be able to trace the upload?
Or not.
The cops hadn’t exactly covered themselves in glory when Marc had a stalker issue several years ago. In the end, he’d driven the woman to hospital himself and paid for three months of rehab. But Serena’s brother would be watching, and Serena’s brother was a private investigator. Heath was smart. He’d pick up on any clues.
“Talk to my fans, about what?” Marc asked.
“You need to convince them that Malati must be saved.”
“Isn’t the Indonesian government responsible for that decision?”
“Yes, but even governments back down in the face of fifty thousand TikTok videos. Those tourism dollars are important.”
“I don’t actually have a TikTok account.” Serena spoke up for the first time, her voice shaky. “I only have BuzzHub, and I’m on a five-day ban at the moment.”
Really? Serena was always polite online, even when people were dicks to her.
“What did you get banned for?” Marc asked.
“I told Marissa her make-up slayed, and the auto-moderator didn’t appreciate the word ‘slay,’ apparently. I mean, on the plus side, there are fewer trolls there, but on the minus side, I can’t even admire my future sister-in-law’s lipstick.”
“Did you appeal? They have human moderators too.”
“Yes, and the last time I looked, I was, like, three thousandth in the queue.”
Havana clapped his hands. “Let’s stick to the game plan. Your account doesn’t really matter, Serena.”
“Excuse me? It took me years to get thirteen thousand followers.”
The blonde tsk-tsk-tsked. “Unlucky for some, I guess, but I’m with Serena on this. We shouldn’t belittle her social media efforts.”
“Are you being snarky?” Serena asked.
“Not at this moment.”
The guy heaved out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll rephrase. In the grand scheme of things, Serena’s BuzzHub follower count is inconsequential. Marc here has one hundred and thirty million, plus more on the other platforms.”
Yes, but that was only because he used to take his shirt off in the early days. Half of those hundred and thirty million had probably moved on to younger, hotter actors who showed more than their feet. Would making a propaganda video tank his account completely? Who even cared? More than once, he’d considered deleting the whole thing, and when he finally quit Hollywood, he planned to quit social media too.
“In principle, I wouldn’t mind making a video, but there’s a problem. Two problems, actually. What happens if the Indonesian government refuses to cooperate? Will you dump us in the ocean?”
Serena tensed again. Dammit.
“They’ll cooperate. Those in charge have no morals, and their only agenda is to get as rich as possible. How do you think the resort got the go-ahead in the first place? Developers have deep pockets. But international reputation is harder to buy, and politicians also need votes if they want to stay in office.”
“So say they back down… What then?”
“Then the eastern side of Malati becomes a wildlife preserve, and a species is saved.”
“I don’t want to sound insensitive, but right now, I’m more concerned with my safety and Serena’s than a herd of lemurs.”
“A conspiracy,” the blonde said.
“Huh?”
“The collective noun for lemurs is ‘a conspiracy.’ A conspiracy of lemurs.”
