Page 66 of The Fangirl and the Grump

“My BingBang account has shot up from about six thousand to over a million followers, Keegan,” Pressley says, and I look up from the screen to meet her excited gaze.

“Wow,” I say. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

She shakes her head violently. “I got an email this morning from Planter’s Vodka.”

“What?” I chirp as I hand her phone back to her.

“They offered us a contract.”

“What?” I repeat, then shake my head. “What are you talking about? What kind of contract?”

Her knee bounces nervously as she shoots me a beatific smile. “They want us to make another video like this one using onlytheirvodka flavors. And they’ll pay us for it.”

“Seriously?” I ask, my voice rising in pitch as some of her excitement rushes through me.

She nods. “They’re offering us ten thousand dollars for three videos, plus a five-thousand-dollar bonus if any of them hit a million views.”

I shake my head. “This can’t be real. Are you sure it isn’t some kind of internet scam?”

“I checked the address and the name on the email. It’s legit. They want to schedule a video chat with us to discuss the terms and what they expect.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe, then look up to lock gazes with her. “We’re influencers?”

Pressley squeals and wiggles in her chair. “We’re influencers!”

I reach over to grab her free hand, squeezing it tightly. Pressley laughs and shouts toward the ceiling before meeting my eyes.

“Keegan Carpenter, our lives are about to change. Forever.”

* * *

As dusk approaches,Trace picks me up and drives me back out to the lake. He lays out a blanket picnic, and we talk and munch on bacon sandwiches and potato chips.

I decided not to tell him about the influencer thing with Pressley. Not yet. We have a video call scheduled with Planter’s Vodka tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to jinx it. Pressley and I decided not to tell anyone until it’s a done deal.

And though it feels wrong keeping anything from Trace, I manage to hold the news inside. I can tell him tomorrow, after the call.

After we finish eating, we lay on our backs and look up at the stars.

“Is this where you thought you’d be when you were growing up? Still living in this small town, running your Grandad’s businesses?”

“I never wanted to leave Evening Shade,” he says. “At least I didn’t until Curse blew up and changed everything. But, I have to say, I’m feeling a little differently about all that these days.”

He turns his head and kisses my temple, making me smile.

“What about you?” he asks when he turns his face back to the night sky.

I sigh. “I certainly never thought I’d be dumped, jobless, homeless, and hiding out in the town where my favorite movies were filmed at twenty-six, but I’m feeling a little differently about all that these days, too.”

Trace rolls onto his side, and I turn toward him before scooting closer. His hand tangles in my hair, holding me still so he can kiss me slowly. Tenderly. A kiss not filled with our usual heated lust, but something else. Somethingmore.

He flops over onto his back, pulling me with him until my legs straddle his hips. We kiss for an eternity, then I rest my cheek on his chest while he softly strokes my hair.

I could get used to this.

If this whole influencer thing is legitimate, and Pressley and I can make it work, I won’t have to go back to Seattle. I could stay here, and we could drive back and forth to meet each other to film the required videos. It wouldn’t be easy, but we could make it work.

I grit my teeth and try to expel the hope trickling through me. That’s not what Trace and I agreed on when we made our deal. He expects this arrangement to expire in a few short weeks, then he’ll go back to his normal life.

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