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Chapter 1
New York Sour
The darkened bar was the perfect setting for one of Avery’s last days of freedom. Knowing she wouldn’t have privacy for the next upcoming months, the anonymity of the unfamiliar watering hole wrapped around her, providing comfort in the face of change.
Her gaze again lingered over the number on her phone. The amount might not seem like much to most, but it was life-changing for her. The real kicker was she could earn more at the end of the contract—if she made it that far. The up-front money was only to reel her into the show, and damn if it didn’t work.
Even with the money sitting in her bank account, habits were hard to break, and when she walked in a half hour earlier, she had asked for the happy hour pitcher. The beer was akin to water, but Avery felt the hazy effects after two glasses. The condensation slid down her mug as she looked at her bank account again. Yup, there it was: ten thousand dollars. Gripping the slick pint, she dug her thumb into her cuticles. Hissing in pain, she checked for blood, then looked back at her phone. The number hadn’t changed.
Avery’s knee grazed her beat-up messenger bag that hung limply from the hook under the bar. It felt lighter without the twenty-page contract, or maybe it was her conscience that felt free. She’d even memorized the words a few weeks ago and could lip-sync to the articles. That was precisely what she’d done when she had a lawyer look over the contract before signing her life away for a year. The binding words included everything from the timing of the show's filming to when it would finally air months later.
You will be filmed at all times. You must stay on the property unless there is a specific outing. Every place besides the toilet and shower will have cameras. If you try to circumvent filming, the contract will be terminated.
That line made her laugh. Why would she do anything to jeopardize getting to the end? She was going on a dating show, living in a house full of strangers all vying for one person's attention to “fall in love.” Avery did not intend to fall, but she did need to do all she could to ensure she made it to the end, where she’d get to choose love or money. It might sound cold-hearted, but she didn’t intend to give up an extra fifty thousand dollars, no matter how charismatic the main contestant turned out to be.
Distracted by the number on her phone, she lifted her arm, belatedly realizing it was damp from an unknown source of alcohol that littered the counter. Having her arm wet would usually have ruined her mood, but this time Avery just shrugged with a grin. It was amazing what some financial breathing room did for her spirits. She reached for the pitcher's handle and poured a fresh glass, debating whether to order another round.
“Is anyone sitting here?”
A Southern drawl drew Avery in as she leaned into the newcomer’s arm, touching her shoulder.
“No, no, go ahead.” She waved to the empty stool, assuming the woman would drag it over to her friends. When the bodacious woman with fire-red hair pulled the chair out and slid into the seat, Avery tried to keep the surprise off her face.
That became more difficult when the woman twisted in the seat, crossing her ankles as a high-heeled shoe popped off one foot. Avery couldn’t tear her eyes away from her shapely legs as her shoe bounced off her toes. When Avery finally looked up, she found the stranger assessing her with a coy smile and a twinkle of teasing in her forest-green eyes.
Gripped with a bout of shyness that was out of character, Avery reached for the foaming beer she’d momentarily forgotten about, glad for the chilled glass to cool her overheated palms.
“What would you like, miss?” the bartender asked, assessing the ample assets the woman had on display. Avery eyed a pile of napkins, debating if she should pass some over to the drooling man.
“I’ll take a New York Sour and another round of whatever this lady is drinking. Unless you want to change your order?” The woman pulled out her credit card and handed it to the bartender. “Keep the tab open.”
The Southern accent slid over Avery, making her think of chicken fried steak and endless country roads. “I’ll try the New York Sour. I’ve never even heard of it,” she said, feeling the tingle of a new experience. It had been a while since she’d ventured out of her comfort zone.
“It can come with egg whites, just to let you know, in case you’re vegan,” she warned.
“Egg whites in a drink?” Avery’s lips turned down as her eyebrows squished together. “Why not? I’ll try it.” Apprehension trembled in her voice. What the hell, a beautiful stranger was sitting next to her; she might as well try a new drink and see where the night took them.
The woman beamed at her, making Avery sit up straighter, suddenly glad for the burst of adventure.
The bartender nodded and moved to the side. He took his loss on the chin at not even getting the beautiful woman to look his way.
“I heard about the drink from my ex-girlfriend. There was no way I was about to try some Yankee drink, but she insisted, and I fell in love with her and the cocktail. A year later, my ex left, but this beauty hung around. Go figure. I’m Stella, by the way.”
Avery blinked at the offered hand, blindsided by the amount of information freely given to a stranger. Stella’s outstretched arm was pale with a splattering of freckles.
“Avery.” She finally shook herself from the delay and held out her hand. Static electricity jolted them as their fingers touched. Both flinched and shook out their arms before tentatively reaching out again.
“I love the name Avery. Are you from around here? I don’t know if you can tell from my accent, but I didn’t grow up in California. I’m an Oklahoma girl through and through. My mama wanted to whip my butt when I told her I was moving to Cali, but she also had videos of me interviewing people since I was knee-high to a grasshopper.” Stella tucked a curly, wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “On the other hand, my nana was supportive and even drove me to the airport. She said not to return until my dreams were in my back pocket.” Stella paused for a moment, while Avery was on the edge of her seat. “Sorry, Nana always says my mouth runs away from me.” She shook her head with a rueful smile. “Are you from around here?”
This time, Stella stopped to allow Avery to respond. She was finding the whirlwind of her new companion charming if a bit disarming.
“My grandma always says I’m a still river that runs deep.” Avery scrunched her eyes together, feeling self-conscious for not having much to say. She was still trying to understand why this beautiful stranger had picked her to sit down next to.
On the other hand, why was she overthinking it? Shaking off the cobwebs of flirting, she felt a smile tug at her lips. “I’m from Minnesota but couldn’t handle the winters. What’s your favorite thing about growing up in Oklahoma?” Her head bobbed to the music playing over the system. She wasn’t sure if it was Stella’s unassuming presence or the beer finally loosening her up, but Avery felt the stress of the past few years start to melt away.
“Well, aren’t we two peas in a pod? Coming from different parts of the country to end up in this sunny state. I loved catching lightning bugs as a kid. We had a huge backyard with a tire swing, and I’d sit on the swing with a mason jar full of bugs. Don’t worry, I always let them go, but it was so peaceful. As I released them, I’d wish on the bugs, and they’d take my dreams back to the sky. I would have stayed in Oklahoma, except most opportunities are here. What about your favorite memory in Minnesota?” Stella’s face had softened as she reminisced about her past. Avery’s pulse raced at the new look.
“Here you are, ladies.” The bartender placed two drinks on the counter and slid them toward Avery and Stella. The lemon peels bobbed as the ice clinked in the glasses.
