Page 76 of Lucky in Love
“Alex?”
“I heard you,” she said, sobering instantly. “I, um, I’m not sure what to say to that.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he blurted quickly. “I just wanted to put it out there.”
“Okay, well, um. Thank you.”
“We don’t have to talk about it.” Why had he brought it up now? He’d gotten caught up in the fun, festive atmosphere. And after watching her all night—laughing, winning, teasing—his amorous feelings had solidified. Though he felt like his heartmight burst if he didn’t say his piece, he should have kept it for another time.
“Good,” she said, letting him go. “Because I think I’m gonna be sick.” With that, she ran to the bathroom and slammed the door. He sat on the couch and waited for her to come out.
“I hope that was from too much wine and not revulsion at my declaration of love,” he deadpanned.
She chuckled. “Too much wine. Too much sugar. Not you.” She walked to the fridge, grabbed a water bottle, and brought it back to the couch. Plopping down beside him, she chugged half of it and then curled up next to him.
Now what? He’d dug his hole and wasn’t sure where to go from here. Before he could worry any more about what to say or how to fix it, she fell asleep in his arms.
Once she was good and out, he carried her to the bed, removed her shoes, and placed her under the blankets. Then crawled in next to her and dozed off listening to her soft breathing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Two days later, Alex was still reeling from Brody’s proclamation of love. She was desperate to dissect it with her team, but playing hostess and helping Brody entertain Violet had occupied her weekend.
The second Brody left to take Violet to the airport, Alex reached for her phone to text her friends. She had only a couple of hours before he’d be back. When she touched the screen, an alert popped up on Whispering Pines. Her search engine was set to notify her whenever it was mentioned online.
Clicking the link, she saw it was the Wanderlust article—Brody’s review. It only took the first sentence to know he’d betrayed her.
She dressed quickly and walked to the office to help Lauren deal with any fallout.
“I can’t believe it,” Lauren said. “I thought he said he wrote a good review.”
“He did,” Alex said.
The article kicked off with a blistering take on the service and the facility, then continued with a malicious list of amenities—loud construction noise, leaky roof, surly cabin manager with no boundaries. It concluded by saying the concept of internet-free camping was noble, just poorly executed at this particular campground.
“Maybe it won’t be that bad,” Lauren said. “Who still reads travel magazines anyway?”
“I don’t know, but it’s possible we might get some cancellations over this. If that happens and they seem receptive, you can try to refute some of the accusations. Otherwise, just be polite.”
“What if we reached out to some past campers to ask if they would counteract his review with their own? The writers’ group maybe?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Alex said. “People might actually read the reviews on our website before they ever see the Wanderlust garbage. I’ll send some emails.”
They spent the morning anticipating possible consequences and how to mitigate them, batting around ideas of preventive incentives—offer a nightly discount, a free pizza, a ride from the airport?
A few hours later, Alex left the office glum but also furious. Sure, it was Brody’s right to review the place anyway he wanted, but why did he lie to her? That’s what was intolerable.
She stalked up the steps to her cabin. Only to find Brody sitting in a chair on the porch.
“This isnotthe article I submitted,” he said preemptively, holding up his phone.
Alex’s anger quelled a little. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, someone at the magazine overrode my submission. They took bits and pieces of my original notes, amplified the bad stuff, and totally manufactured a new review.”
“Explain.” She put a hand on her hip.
“We use a system where multiple people can collaborate on a project at once. It’s where I enter all my info—notes, pictures, drafts, any random thoughts I might use. My initial impressions, which admittedly weren’t so great, were saved there.” He paused to run his fingers through his hair. “But later, I changed all thatand wrote the article I wanted printed. I talked with one of my coworkers who told me management thought the negative stuff would get more clicks and published it without my sign-off.”
