Georgie suddenly knocked back the rest of her champagne, then held the glass out, feigning surprise. “Welp, I’m going to go hunt down a drink, okay? You two have fun,” she said, and I watched with latent horror as she hurried straight past a server carrying a tray of sparkling flutes, disappearing behind a group of women who could’ve been supermodels.Judas.
My poor heart fluttered erratically at the idea of being alone with Teddy. I had to stay strong.
He reached for my hand, and I took a step backward. His shoulders drooped as his arm fell to his side. “What did I do, Margot?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, swallowing the obnoxious urge to reassure him. The string quartet swelled beside us, all tragic and comically well-timed.
By the end of the night, any future with Teddy Bowman would be extinguished, and I could finally move on.
Right?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Don’t,” I said finally, my voice quiet but sharp enough to make him furrow his brows. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
“Idon’t. That’s the problem.”
“Teddy—”
He cut me off, “No, really. You’ve been ignoring me since yesterday, and I have no idea what I did. If this is about the kiss—”
My head snapped up. “It’s not about the kiss.”
That was a lie. Or at least a half-truth.
He blinked, clearly thrown off balance. “Then what is it about?”
I crossed my arms, the movement slow, deliberate, defensive. “It’s about you. About this—” I gestured between us, then to his camera slung across his chest. “And about the fact that you’re back here under false pretenses.”
“False preten—what?”
I almost admired his ability to look genuinely baffled. “Don’t pretend you’re surprised. I know why you’re really here, Teddy.”
“Enlighten me.”
A faint thread of amusement surfaced in his voice—a smirk threatening the corner of his mouth—and it made my blood boil.
“I know the truth aboutTravel and Taste,” I said. “About the exposé. The one on small towns and image management. The ‘Heart of America’ thing?”
His face went still. The amusement vanished.
“Oh,” he said softly.
“Oh,” I repeated, bitterness curdling in my throat. “That’s all you have to say?”
“Margot, it’s not what you think.”
“Really? Because it sounds exactly like what I think. You came back here, stirred everything up again, and for what? A story about howsadandsimplewe all are?”
He rubbed a hand over his jaw, exhaling. “You really think I’d do that to you?”
“I think you’ve made a career out of turning your life into content. Why wouldn’t you do the same to us?”
“That’s not fair,” he said quietly.
“Neither is you stepping on Bluebell Cove to get to your nextadventure,” I hissed.
“I didn’t pitch it!” Teddy’s voice rose, not loud but enough to draw the attention of a passing waiter. He lowered it again. “I didn’t pitch it, Margot. I got assigned. My editor saw my photos of the Summer’s End Festival from 2018 and thought it’d be a good fit. I didn’t even know until I got here that they planned to spin it that way.”
