Chapter 41
Grayson
T
he storm is a pretty bad one, but it has nothing on the persuasive power of Princess Lyra.
I keep the contract on the table between us. It clearly states that she owes us six weeks of footage, plus promotional material, and yet…
It’s hard to deny when someone is fighting for true love.
She talks about Spencer. A lot.
I admit, it’s a love story. We could play it with missed opportunities and Spencer’s legitimate fear of losing her.
We’ll get the viewers—but what to do with the other month left in her contract?
We can’t stretch five dates into a six-week season, regardless of how good the editing is, and how much filler we include.
We’re locked down at Camille and Odin’s for twenty-four hours while the rain comes down in sheets and the wind whips the treetops into a frenzy. Camille isn’t fussed about the severity, but then again, she grew up here.
We have fierce storms in Toronto, but the city isn’t on an island—or an archipelago, as Ria corrects me—with the closest mainland twenty-five kilometres away.
Ria and I are at Camille’s, leaving Rue with the cameras and the men at the hotel. Luckily, we have cell service throughout, so I can check in, as well as get her insight about what to do with Lyra.
Rue has one opinion, with Ria taking the opposite, which leaves me as the deciding vote.
I hate being in this position.
But as the storm breaks around nine o’clock on the second night, I finally agree to Lyra’s idea.
With a few concessions.