Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“Ah, and people on the internet are always right,” he retorted, but the corner of his mouth twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile.
“Where’s Maya?” I asked, changing the subject. “I thought she was helping with the camera work.”
“AP Calculus test,” he replied, taking a bite of toast. “Just you, me, and the tripod today.”
The implications of being alone together hung in the air between us. Yesterday, Maya had been our buffer, the third presence that kept things professional and distanced.
Sort of.
I tucked into my meal, not particularly worried that we’d have to manage the filming on our own, but something about it must have concerned Maddox because he seemed to feel like he needed to reassure me.
“Don’t worry. I can handle it on my own as long as you’re willing to get creative with me on the angles and shots. I’ll walk you through it.”
“Gee, thanks, oh Wise One. Show me the ways of shooting video without a cameraman,” I said, unable to avoid sarcasm. “You do know I’ve been creating content on my own for five years, right?”
“Content,” he said with a sniff of disdain. “Well, today we’re creating footage with actual substance.”
“Right. As opposed to my usual empty, soulless nonsense?” I leaned forward slightly in challenge.
Maddox met my gaze steadily. “Your words, not mine.”
“You know, for someone who claims to value authenticity, you’re awfully quick to judge work you haven’t even seen.”
“I’ve seen your social media,” he countered. “Rooftop pools. Celebrity chef openings. Designer outfits in perfectly lit settings. It’s well executed, yes. But it’s also…”
“What?” I pressed when he hesitated.
His eyes darted away, then back to mine. “Safe. Controlled. Everything in its perfect place. No real moments.” He shrugged and took another bite of food.
The assessment stung, partly because it echoed my own doubts in quiet, late-night moments.
But it was one thing for me to think it and another for him to judge. “And you’re an expert on real moments?”
“I know them when I see them.” His voice softened unexpectedly. “Like when you laughed yesterday. Not the perfect Instagram laugh—the real one, when you forgot you were being filmed.”
As we finished up the remaining bites of breakfast, I suddenly felt exposed, as if he’d seen something I’d worked hard to keep hidden. The careful construction of Adrian Hayes, Luxury Lifestyle Influencer, had cracks—and somehow, in less than two days, Maddox Sullivan had found them.
“We should go,” I said, signing the receipt Sadie had brought and reaching for my coat. “Don’t want to be late for our tree date.”
“Not a date,” he corrected, standing while taking a final sip of coffee.
“Right,” I agreed, trying to ignore the inexplicable disappointment that flared at his insistence. “Just work. Rule Three—you and me… not a thing. I get it.”
As we headed for the door, I noticed several patrons watching us, whispering behind menus and coffee mugs. Maddox noticed, too, his shoulders tensing as he pushed through the exit.
Outside, the morning air was crisp and cold, biting at my cheeks and nose. Maddox’s truck was parked nearby—an older-model Ford that somehow suited him perfectly: practical, sturdy, no-nonsense.
The inside of his truck was surprisingly clean, with worn but well-maintained leather seats. A small photo was tucked into the visor—Maddox, a younger Maya, and two smiling adults who had to be their parents. They looked happy, the kind of genuine happiness that hadn’t been a part of my own family life.
“That’s a great photo,” I said softly as Maddox started the engine.
He glanced up, and his expression turned wistful for an instant when he realized what I was looking at. “Thanks,” he said gruffly and left it at that.
We drove in silence for a while, the town giving way to snow-dusted fields and then dense pine forest. I watched out the window as the landscape transformed, more beautiful and wilder than any backdrop I’d used for content before.
“Oh, wow! It’s snowing!” I said excitedly as delicate flakes began to drift down. I traveled to cold-weather destinations plenty, but snow was one of the few things I missed from my childhood in Connecticut.
“Just flurries,” Maddox said, but his tone had lost some of its edge. “Supposed to pick up later.”
I pressed my face closer to the window, watching the snowflakes dance in the morning light. “It’s beautiful.”
“You act like you’ve never seen snow before,” he remarked, glancing at me curiously.
“Not much since I was a kid,” I admitted. “LA snow is just sad rain that got ambitious.”
A sound escaped him—something between a snort and a chuckle. When I looked over, his face had gone soft again, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He shook his head, but the almost-smile lingered. “Just… sad rain that got ambitious. That’s actually pretty funny.”
“I have my moments,” I replied, unreasonably pleased at having made him laugh. “I’m not just a pretty face in expensive pants.”