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“Don’t just stand there, get in here.” Mia’s warm grip wraps around my outstretched wrist.
“Oof,” I grunt.
“I thought you were never going to get here.” Slamming the door, she pulls me into her living room.
“Hi, Garrett,” Evie says distractedly. She doesn’t spare me a glance as she types furiously on her computer.
“Hi?” My attention pings between her and Mia, who is currently pacing in front of me.
Reaching out, I halt her progress.
“Ames, slow down. What’s going on?”
“Evie was being kind when she said her phone was ringing off the hook. It literally has not stopped ringing,” she complains.
I stare at the phone that is currently silent on the coffee table.
“Ugh, I finally had her turn it off.”
“What about your phone?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “On DND. You, my parents, and Evie are the only ones who can get through.”
“When did all the reporters show up at the gate?” I thumb toward the door.
“About five minutes after you left.”
“They want a statement,” Evie chimes in. “Same as they’ve wanted all morning.”
“What have you come up with so far?” I ask.
Evie hands me her laptop. “It’s rough, but what do you think?”
Scanning the few sentences, it’s okay—better than okay since Evie pulled this together so quickly considering that neither Mia nor I remember much from the night before—but it’s like every other statement Mia has released lately. It’s missing Mia. Her personality. Her voice. And we need to change that.
“What if, instead of releasing yet another statement to get lost in the algorithms,” I say, “we do a recorded statement instead?”
“Recorded?” Mia asks.
I nod. “It’s not something you’ve done before, Ames.”
I would know—I’ve followed her career almost as if it were my own.
“It’ll definitely give it a more personal touch.” Evie nods, coming on board with my plan.
Mia’s gaze searches my face. I can see the stress of the last couple of hours trapped in the furrow of her brows, and I reach up, rubbing at one of the lines softly.
“It won’t be a live stream,” I reassure her.
“It’s different.” She captures her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbles on it slightly.
“It’s you, Ames,” I tell her. “It’s more you than any words on a paper. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think that.”
“New husband, new Mia?” Her smile is tentative, a little shaky around the edges.
“Something like that. Think of it this way. It’s the beginning of a new chapter in your life, right? This time, you’re the one with the pen.”
“Ev?” She turns to Evie, who has been overtly ignoring us while eavesdropping at the same time. “You ready to record my new husband and me?”
