I haven’t said anything to Luke, but I get the idea he’s feeling the same.
I glance over at him—hands on the wheel, face forward—as we drive down Olive toward the studio.
It’s been fine between us. We’ve been so focused on work, there’s been less of the flirting, less of the touching. That’s what I keep telling myself. We just need to get through today, and then maybe we can get back to the way we were.
Once at the studio, our laptop bags in tow, we go straight to the conference room, take our seats, and wait. This time, Luke sits on the other side of the table, and I try not to read into it. But of course I do. I’m chalking it up to stress again. And maybe a bit of professionalism, since that’s how we look sitting across this massive table from each other. Like professionals.
It’s quiet in the dimly lit room, except for Luke tapping his fingers on the desk.
“Did you eat breakfast?” Luke asks after a bit, and I look up from the notes I have for today that I was pretending to read, giving him a questioning look.
He gives me a devilish grin. “I just know how you get when you’re hungry. I need your full brain today, Archie.”
I smile. He hasn’t been teasing me much, which I again put down to the stress, so this feels a bit like a lifeline from him.
“I had a full breakfast of coffee and a piece of toast this morning,” I say.
He smiles knowingly. “Let’s hope that’s enough.”
I’m about to tease him back—say something about how it’s worked for me in the past—when the door opens and in walk Victoria and Paul.
Once again, they take seats at the head of the table, even though it’s just Luke and me.
Victoria puts her glasses on and holds a piece of paper up in front of her.
“Let’s get started,” she says, those three words icily calm.
Heaven help us.
“The statement barely did anything,” she begins. “And now it appears the narrative is gaining even more momentum. Two brand partners have reached out with concerns. We need a plan.”
I glance over at Luke, who’s doing the same to me. Brand partners have reached out? I know that’s something that happens—businesses might not want to partner with a show that’s getting backlash from fans. I guess I thought—or maybe I hoped—we’d never get to that point.
But that means this isn’t just about fan sentiment anymore. It’s about money. Well, it was always about money. Now it’s about more of it.
Crap.
Luke clears his throat. He volunteered to lay out the plan first.
Actually, we played rock, paper, scissors yesterday, and he lost.
“Ms. Archer and I have come up with a solid plan,” he says, his tone confident, which is impressive under the circumstances.
I feel something drop in my stomach when he says this, because it’s not exactly true. Our idea is not solid. It’s more like murky.
Every other option we considered over the weekend fell apart for the same reason—anything that looked like a response to the accusation just strengthened the crux of the accusation. And this was the least bad version we could find.
“Let’s hear it, then,” Victoria says, looking like she already hates it before we’ve even had the chance to present it.
Oh gosh, I really should have put on more deodorant today. I’m about to sweat right through this navy suit jacket.
“We want to do a coordinated response from Bailey and River together. Not a statement—but something softer. The plan is to have both of them post the same thing to social media within minutes of each other. Something simple that shows fans they’re real people in a real situation. We’re thinking maybe a throwback photo from earlier in the show—something that shows authenticity.”
The room is silent. Victoria is staring at Luke.
I sort of want to yell out,Just kidding!and then tell her the real idea—not that we have another one—because after hearing it from Luke’s mouth, it sounds like a really stupid plan.
“You think a coordinated post would combat what people think is a coordinated PR stunt?” She practically spits out the words.
