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She gestures at our clothes. “We haven’t been fitted for mics on this trip, but I know that equipment is sensitive.” She sits back and looks at the crew through narrowed eyes. “I think I’m in over my head,” she confesses in a rush of breath. “I don’t think I should have done this.”
Blinking in surprise, I also glance at the nearby cameramen and then back at Stella, sensing her mounting anxiety. “Did something happen?”
A small pang of dread twinges at me.Or is she just stressed about hanging out with me?
“No… yes. I don’t know. All these cameras in my face all the time. It’s not like working on a commercial or normal TV shows. I can’t just go home at the end of the day, you know? It’s way more than I expected. And coming all the way out here? To Montana?”
“Oh, yeah, I get that,” I say. “That’s unnerving, all right.”
“It doesn’t help my anxiety at all.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Do you suffer from anxiety?”
She clamps her lips closed as if she’s said too much, but I suddenly feel very close to her—and not just because we’re sharing a kayak.
“I get bouts of anxiety, too,” I confess.
Her jaw drops as she sits forward. “You?!”
I begin to paddle harder, peering at her with some defensiveness.
“Is that so hard to believe?” I ask, gesturing at her to begin paddling. I lean in, my voice barely a whisper now. “I need youto follow my lead, Stella. We’re going to lose these guys for the day.”
She blinks again. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll see. But you need to paddle. Quickly now.”
What Stella doesn’t know is that I’ve done my homework about this pretty, crystalline lake on the outskirts of Rosewater. Studying an online map, I learned about the inlets and hiding spots before leaving the cabin that day.
The camera crew is no match for me.
My arms work furiously, and the kayak picks up speed, coasting through a small cove that wouldn’t be visible to anyone who had not thoroughly researched—like me. I hear Stella gasp as she dips her paddle inside the water, but she exhales just as quickly, exclamations of surprise following our abrupt disappearance against the coastline.
“How did you just manage that?” Stella asks.
I press my finger to my lips, shaking my head. “Shh! We have to keep our voices down while they chase their tails for a few minutes.”
Slowly, I continue to paddle, the afternoon sun settling over the rocky pine beaches in a brilliant array of colors as we draw closer to the shore. Stella’s shoulders relax now, the crew lost to us in the aftermath of my stunt.
“We’re going to be in trouble,” she sighs, but there’s an unmistakable gleam of amusement in her dark eyes.
“Do you really care that much?” I ask, leaning forward to stare directly into her face.
“A little,” she admits, surprising me. “I really need this gig. I know you don’t, but this is a lot of money for me—not to mention the doors it will open for me in the business.”
The boat drifts against the edge of the water between the breaks and the shore, gulls cawing around us as I pull the oars back onto the vessel.
“It’s a competitive business,” I offer gently. “And competition sucks.”
She casts me a curious look. “Is there a lot of competition in what you do, making beer?”
She’s not being trite. She’s genuinely asking me, and I find myself endeared by the question. “Nothing I can’t handle on that front,” I reply. “It’s the family rivalry that makes things difficult.”
She cocks her head curiously, as if she doesn’t understand.
“Do you have siblings?” I ask, attempting to explain myself.
“I don’t,” Stella replies.
