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Then a thought hit her. “You’re not filming, right?” This didn’t exactly set the tone she wanted for her episodes.
“Of course not. You don’t have a mic on.”
“So wait, otherwise, youwouldbe filming?”
He groaned. “Just take this.”
He jiggled the door handle until she flipped the lock and opened it a crack. His hand and part of that muscular forearm slid into her vision, another strap hanging from his fingers. When she peeked at him on the other side of the door, his eyes were closed. As if she might be indecent.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you privacy.”
“You think I’d open the door naked?”
“Who knows? You were yanking up your dress in the middle of the driveway a minute ago.”
“Oh my god, you’re dramatic. I lifted it like two inches.”
His eyes flicked open, and Everly’s heart leapt a little when they caught on hers. Lethal. Those things were lethal.
She grabbed the strap and shut the door again.
It took a little ingenuity, but she managed to secure the two belts together and get the battery pack strung around her waist beneath her loose navy-and-white-striped dress. She snaked the wire up through the V-neck collar and hooked the mic near her shoulder, which was closest to her mouth, and, she assumed, the best place to pick up sound.
The wire tickled her skin as she moved, and it was going to be an uphill battle not to fuss with the battery pack every time she sat down. Between this and a camera in her face, she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to act like today was a regular day.
Logan was leaning against the garage when she opened the door, his fingers jabbing at his phone. “All good?” he asked.
Everly flashed him a thumbs-up.
As it turned out, her car needed a host of equipment, too. Logan fixed two GoPros around the driver’s seat—one under the rearview mirror, the other mounted beside her window—and put a third in the same place on the passenger side.
“Do you have people in the back a lot?” He tilted the small camera this way and that, checking it on his phone to see how the angle looked.
Everly skimmed her hand along the steering wheel. “You overestimate the amount of people I know.”
He let out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. “You probably won’t be driving that much anyway. Jazzy and Stanton have a tricked-out SUV for your retreats. This is mostly to catch the quiet thoughts you might have when you’re alone.”
Her head whipped in his direction. “I hope you’re suggesting that your camera can read my mind.”
Logan stared at her long and hard, as if determining how much she was joking. “You’re going to have to talk out loud. Narrate things. Tell us how you’re feeling.”
Everly groaned. “Isn’t there usually a producer there to prompt me?”
“Yeah, but Sady—”
“Wants the realism.”
“Yup.”
Great. Half the thoughts that popped into Everly’s head weren’t appropriate for public consumption.
Logan settled into the passenger side and snapped his seat belt on. His gaze shifted to her, but she continued to look out the windshield at the dew gathering on the garage door.
“You’re going to be fine. Just be yourself.”
“Except I don’t normally talk out loud in the car. Or walk around with a gaggle of cameras in my wake.”
