Chapter Eight
I sat in the TrendCon chartered party bus as we hurtled toward Kart World and tried not to feel sick.
When I’d agreed to Ethan’s proposal, I’d been peak desperate.
Now, with a few hours and one absolute disaster of a panel behind me, I was starting to second-guess our plan.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want the money; I just wasn’t entirely sure how I was going to pull this off.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Nittha said, turning around in her seat to grin at me as the bus’s party lights twinkled above her head.
“I was so sad Cricket wasn’t allowed to come, but then you surprised us, and BamBam clearly needed an emotional-support pup after this morning’s ‘incident,’ so this all worked out perfectly. ”
Nittha put air quotes around the word incident as if that would somehow soften the blow of mentioning what the internet was already calling #GrannieGate.
What Nittha didn’t know—and I had no intention of telling her—was that while BamBam was upstairs with a cold compress on her forehead and Cricket snuggled at her side, drafting a rage email to the con organizers about including Buzzy without telling her, I was preparing to go behind her back with Ethan.
I glanced in Ethan’s direction. He was sitting a few rows up from us, crammed between the window and Sterling James, who was chatting with him a mile a minute.
It struck me as strange that Sterling wasn’t sitting next to Emmie, but then again, if Sterling was as savvy as Ethan said, he was probably trying to avoid being in too many pictures with Emmie while hoping to be seen supporting her jilted ex.
Empathy was good for brands. Messy friend drama, less so.
“We’re here,” Gabby sing-songed, an uncharacteristically large grin spreading across her face as we pulled up outside a small, tired-looking purple-and-red building labeled Kart World.
Next to the building stood a zigzagging racetrack with a few karts already running around it.
Nittha and I exchanged surprised glances as Gabby popped out of her seat, nearly knocking other people out of the aisle.
Briefly looking over her shoulder at us, she waved. “Hurry up. Fun awaits.”
“It’s only fun if you know how to drive.” Nittha sighed and pushed herself out of her seat.
“I’m not sure it is that fun for anyone other than Gabby, even if you do know how to drive,” I whispered.
Nittha stifled a giggle as the two of us stepped off the bus.
Unlike literally everyone else who lived in Los Angeles, Nittha didn’t drive, which meant she was here strictly as moral support for me and Gabby.
Okay, Gabby mostly. I wasn’t planning on doing much driving.
Catching sight of Gabby at a coffee cart, she perked up and pointed. “I’m gonna get one. You want?”
“I’m good, but thanks.” I smiled and waited until Nittha had bounced off in Gabby’s direction, then scanned the crowd of people for Ethan and Sterling.
I spotted Sterling almost immediately, his bright-red shirt billowing as he gestured emphatically at a group of people, including Emmie.
Like the last time I’d seen her, she was perfectly made-up.
Even sitting on the edge of a picnic table in the parking lot of a fun complex, she looked stylish.
She didn’t seem upset this time, though.
If anything, she appeared to be in her element, surrounded by people who looked equally flawless.
Not that Emmie’s feelings were any of my business.
Hell, Ethan’s business wasn’t even my business if it didn’t have to do with this video.
I shook my head to clear my mind, then spotted him.
He was alone in a quieter corner of the outdoor complex, leaning against the go-kart track railing with his back to the party.
He was standing mostly in the shadows, wearing a tie-dye gym tank top that had big armholes, white shorts, and sneakers with bright-green high socks.
This was what he wore when it was hot outside?
His outfit looked ridiculous, but with the dappled sunlight filtering through the racetrack’s shade overhang playing across his face, he was cast in the kind of glow that was typically reserved for people in art house films. His jaw and cheekbones took on a harder edge while the breeze tossed his hair around carelessly.
Watching him from this distance felt different.
Less like he was the boy next door and more like he was the kind of forbidden fruit that you were desperate to taste.
Then he turned, and recognition crossed his face as he aimed that casual smile at me.
A thousand butterflies in my stomach tried to make me sick.
Taking a deep breath, I waved at him in a weird, jerky little burst, then immediately stopped.
Why was I waving? It wasn’t like I was on a ship going out to sea. Ethan could clearly see me.
Exhaling, I started walking toward him, weaving my hands together in front of me and demanding that the butterflies in my system pull it together. I didn’t need to be nervous. This was a business deal, nothing more.
“Hey,” he said as soon as I approached him.
“Hey.” I did my best to lean against the railing, careful to keep enough distance between us that it could seem like an accident if someone snapped a picture that BamBam happened to see.
I waited for Ethan to say something, but instead he just looked around as if the parking lot of a fun complex in the middle of a Vegas strip mall was the most fascinating place on earth.
Finally, I broke down and asked, “Before we officially do this, something’s been bugging me. Why did you offer to work with me?”
“I think you’re cute.”
My brain malfunctioned a bit before I came to my senses. I snorted. “Sure. What’s the real reason?”
Ethan took in a sharp breath, then exhaled slowly.
The expression on his face said he hoped I’d be distracted by that joke, even as he prepared to answer the question.
Checking over his shoulder, he turned his attention back to me.
“I don’t really want to hang out with the group I used to go to these things with.
You and your friends aren’t close to my old circle. ”
He paused, moving his head from side to side as if debating how much more he should share. If what Gabby and Nittha said about his breakup was true, it made a lot more sense that he was hanging around us. “You need help, and I need new friends.”
I nodded, deciding not to pry any further. “So, we’re a match made in desperate-people heaven?”
“Pretty much.” Half of Ethan’s mouth turned up in an ironic smile.
I sighed. “So, how do you want to do this?”
“Do what?”
“Make our video.”
“I guess we should figure out our idea before we do anything else.” Ethan’s forehead wrinkled as if he was surprised that I hadn’t tried to backtrack on our agreement. “How do you usually work with people? Any deal-breakers?”
My brain went fuzzy with nerves as Ethan kept asking questions. I had absolutely no experience directing anyone other than myself and BamBam. Worse, I didn’t know if I could describe what I did to anyone else. For someone who wanted to be a director, this seemed like a massive oversight.
“Truthfully? I have no idea how I like to collaborate. The only person I’ve ever worked with is BamBam.” Ethan’s eyebrows disappeared underneath his hair, and heat flooded my cheeks. “Don’t judge. I don’t have my own social media, remember?”
“Not judging.” Ethan held his hands up in a pacifying gesture. “Just surprised. At the pool, you seemed so serious about editing that I assumed you had a bunch of partnerships and projects going.”
“I wish. I want to study to be a director someday.” I watched him for a moment, trying to decide if he was being sincere.
Nothing about his expression felt like he was waiting to spring a mean joke on me.
“Anyway. I don’t actually know what I’m doing—I mean, I know what I’m doing with a camera, but not with other people and…
” I paused as Ethan’s expression shifted from surprised to confused.
Taking a steadying breath, I tried again.
“What I’m trying to say is, I’m new to working with people, so you might have to tell me stuff sometimes. ”
“Communication. Got it.” The corner of Ethan’s mouth twisted into a small smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t done much collaboration either. We can teach each other.”
“Thanks.” For a minute, we stared at each other, an unspoken understanding passing between us.
I wasn’t sure how or when, but something had changed.
Ethan’s eye contact felt more deliberate as our quiet understanding turned into a low hum of electricity.
Ethan licked his lips and narrowed his eyes at me.
My pulse sped up. The urge to reach out and trace the skin along the hem of his tank top crossed my mind, and I was suddenly very grateful for the space between us.
The screech of tires on cement disrupted whatever was happening to us.
Ethan blinked and cleared his throat. I pushed my sudden and inexplicable interest in his collarbone out of my mind and continued.
“So, I was thinking, and you can say no, but I did some internet sleuthing, and Kelly Sparkles is from Las Vegas. It’s why he has at least one big event here every year.
What if we made the theme of our video a love letter to Las Vegas? ”
“Okay.” Ethan nodded slowly, his face drawn in concentration. “Tell me more.”
“Like, we’ll take all the establishing shots of TrendCon, smiling, happy people, flashy product demos, and all that, but then we can film you doing Vegas-y stuff—not only the tourist activities, but some things off the beaten path, too.”
“Make all of Vegas the star of the show since Sparkles loves it. I like it.” Ethan smiled briefly. Then his expression changed. “Wait. Why wouldn’t we film you, too?”