Page 37 of The Puck Bunny

Instead of saying, ”Hello” or standing between her friend and the Big Bad Wolf—me—she holds up her phone and starts taking photos.

I immediately adopt my Hollywood persona, with the camera smile and pose like an automatic reflex, a reaction so deeply ingrained in me that it takes no thought and even though it’s totally put-on, it feels natural.

“Hey, you’re good. We should call you Hollywood Quinn,” she says.

I try to hide my flinch because she’s not the first person to call me that. My brother used the name on a number of occasions over the years, with less and less amusement until it was a nasty pejorative that cut deep. I haven’t heard it in a while mainly because I haven’t heard from him in a while, other than at Dad’s funeral. We barely acknowledged each other’s presence.

“You good?” Billie Mae asks Sara as she puts an arm around her.

“Great. All set for the crowds of kids. How about you?” Sara’s voice is extra bright and Billie Mae looks like she bit into a sour apple.

“You’re chipper this morning,” I say to Billie Mae and she nods without a scintilla of judgment or awkwardness.

Sara elbows her friend and escapes her hold, going back to work.

I want to say more to her, want to truly clear the air and make her feel at ease, but I have no idea how to be friends with this girl, but I know I better figure it out. Quick.

Jonas strides in our direction and I’m mixed on whether I’m glad or not to see him.

“I see you got a prime placement,” he says.

“Where are you?” I ask, heading him off before he reaches Sara. I don’t know if he’ll recognize her, but I don’t want to take the chance. Not here. Not now in public. I don’t want her getting in trouble with Delaney.

He tilts his head looking over my shoulder, eying Sara. Shit. “Way the hell over there in the back with a few other guys. Rookies.” He smirks, still studying Sara.

I angle my body to block his view while she and Billie Mae ignore us, moving quickly and efficiently, setting up the merchandise.

He steps around me. “Hey, don’t I know you?” Jonas asks her. Shit.

She looks up, startled.

“No,” I say at the exact same time Sara does.

She goes back to rummaging through a box.

Billie Mae says, “Maybe. We work for the Brawlers in the PR office.”

“With that ball-buster, Delaney?” Jonas says.

“That’s the one.” Delaney says. We turn.

She showed up from nowhere, her arms folded across her chest and an evil smile in place.

Sara pops up and we exchange an uneasy glance. I’m worried for her job.

“You seem to be next in line for ball-busting, Mr. Bergman.”

“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean anything by it,” Jonas says.

Just make sure you sign as many posters as you can—at least a hundred—and be very nice to the children.”

“Yes, ma’am. I like kids.”

“Sure, you do. I’m not surprised.” She walks off after a shot that is more effective than a mic drop.

“Guess that’s my cue to get to work,” Jonas says and takes off.

“Damn.” I shake my head. “She is the best of the best when it comes to busting balls.”