CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
R OBERT
I had plenty to do at my store: order fixtures and artwork for the bathrooms, choose the latte machines, decide on the marketing fonts, and clean.
After leaving Anya’s house, I went home, showered, changed, grabbed a granola bar, and headed to the store with the intention of tackling some of it. Keeping busy would do me good, and winning the float contest meant buzz about the Tomes and Tumblers had ramped up overnight.. When we finally opened, I wanted to make sure we had everything in place.
But when I got to the store, I worked for about twenty minutes before my curiosity got the best of me, before I couldn’t ignore my phone any longer. All the tile patterns, inventory, and latte machine brands in the world couldn’t hold back the itch that came from knowing that whatever was happening on the internet, I was somehow in the middle of it.
And when Brianna showed up about ten minutes later, I wasn’t surprised either.
“I hoped you’d be here,” she said, stepping through the temporary front door and into the planned coffee bar space. “I thought about texting, but...”
“There was no way I’d see it. Not with how overloaded my phone is.”
“So, you know about the video.” She crossed the space and sat atop an overturned paint can. “Like, you’ve seen it.”
“Of course, I have.”
She braced her elbows on her knees, bowing her head so her faded red Cincinnati baseball cap obscured her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” I sat on the opposite paint can. She sounded so upset, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why.
“I was the one who uploaded the video on TikTok. I started this.” She raised her head. “I shouldn’t have done it.”
I frowned. “That was your account?”
“Yep.”
“But it had some kind of AI-looking image for the profile photo.”
She gulped, the skin around her eyes tightening.
“You can tell me,” I said.
“My parents didn’t want me to have an account when I was younger, so I started it on the sly. And it got a decent following, so I kept it. But most people don’t know it’s me since I post, like, remixes and stuff like that.”
“Considering what it was, I figured it was someone in the crowd.” I studied her for a moment, taking in her drawn eyes and the slight crease on her forehead. She was just a kid, and kids made mistakes. And was uploading it even really a mistake? “I’m not mad at you.”
She sat up straighter. “Really? You’re not?”
“There’s nothing in that video to be embarrassed about.” I laughed as I replayed it in my mind. “Except for the fact that I outright kissed Anya to shut her up.”
“That was the best part.”
“I’m sure the trolls are having a field day with it.”
Brianna nodded as she pursed her lips, and her expression told me everything I needed to know about that issue. Still, I wasn’t ashamed about that part, no matter what other people’s opinion of it was. Anya certainly didn’t mind it, and that mattered the most.
Besides, sometimes, moments like that required a bold move. And it had worked out. It fucking worked out beautifully.
“I didn’t think it was going to go this far,” Brianna said. “And I hope Anya isn’t upset. She’s kind of sweet in that dorky, bookish way.” She smiled then grimaced. “Do you want me to take it down?”
I shook my head. “No point in that now since it already has legs.”
“I’m still sorry. The internet is crazy, and I feel so bad about this.”
I stood. “You had no idea how this was going to play out, and I know with your generation, you’re always online.”
She stood too.
I glanced at my watch. I’d been at the store for exactly forty-three minutes, far less than I’d imagined. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?”
“No,” she said sheepishly. “I just appreciated the chance to work on the float. I know I said that yesterday at the pizza party, but I wanted to say it again, considering all this insanity. It meant more to me than you probably realize.” Brianna took a few steps toward the front door, and I followed her. “My dad said he was proud of me.” She grabbed the door handle and opened it. “He’s never said that about my art.”
“Never?”
“He always said it was a waste of time.” She propped open the door with her side. “But maybe now he’ll start thinking about it differently.”
We said goodbye, and as she left, I kept thinking about all the effects the last twenty-four hours had brought. Yes, in some ways, I was in a total tailspin, having crossed into new territory overnight after winning the contest and starring in a viral video. But things also felt clearer than ever—I knew what my future entailed.
Anya.
After a few moments, I locked up at the store and drove the short distance to The Green Frog. Yes, we made plans to see each other that night, but I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to handle this together, and the widespread nature of this video was making the necessity of that clearer with each passing second.
I parked my BMW in an on-street spot outside the front and bounded up the steps. When I walked in, Morgan and Anya were in the main showroom, sitting in a pair of cozy chairs adjacent to the cash wrap desk. They stood when I stepped foot onto the polished hardwood flooring.
“I hope it’s okay that I didn’t call before I came over.”
“Actually, I was just thinking about how we probably shouldn’t wait to see each other again until this evening,” Anya replied. “This whole thing is out of control.”
I sank into the open chair in the group, and when I did, they followed my lead. “I found out who posted it. Brianna runs an anonymous TikTok account.”
“Brianna? The art student?” Morgan asked.
“She came by the shop and wanted to know if I was upset with her.” I paused. “I’m not.”
“Me neither,” Anya replied. “She’s a good kid. Worked with me on the float last year.”
I started. “Last year?”
“Yep. I hired her and several of her friends, but when I tried to do the same thing this year, they were already taken.”
I pulled a face. “Sorry about that.”
“One more reason to be mad at you.” Anya replied, but she looked like she biting back a smile.
Ah, now that makes sense. The day she stormed off after pizza.
Morgan laughed. “And now as we can see, things changed quite drastically yesterday.”
I took my phone from my pocket and unlocked the screen. Since walking in The Green Frog, a few dozen messages had hit my social media, along with one promising-looking email from a woman who said she was a producer with Good Morning USA. “You know, I’ve been thinking; if we play this right, we can make this newfound fame benefit us.”
Anya sank farther into her chair, clicking her teeth as she studied me. She’d pulled her hair into a French twist, her body draped in a casual camel-colored slip dress. She looked gorgeous, and my thoughts turned to how much I wanted to see her naked again.
“What do you think we should do?” she asked.
“This is a pretty good offer from Good Morning USA to appear on the show tomorrow morning.” I held up my phone so she and Morgan would see the email on the screen.
Anya recoiled. “No.”
“Why not?”
She made a sweeping gesture. “I don’t want to be on TV. The internet is bad enough.”
“But just a few minutes ago, you said you’d be open to the idea of capitalizing on this.” Morgan nudged her friend’s shoulder.
“Yes, but I meant maybe we could—I don’t know—do an interview via email, take out a Facebook ad, something like that. Not go on TV.” Anya blanched.
“But you’d be perfect for it,” Morgan said.
“I might have worked in the theater, but I was backstage, remember? Behind the scenes.”
I scanned the email again. “They say it will be about a five-minute segment. A couple of questions, probably some banter with the hosts.”
“Maybe Gretchen will interview you guys,” Morgan said, and I knew by her comment that she was totally on board with this idea. “I love her. The other day she had on this great silver dress. I hope I look like that when I’m fifty.”
“She is beautiful. I still can’t remember the last time I watched one of the shows,” Anya replied.
“We’re talking about national news,” I said. “It will bring people to our stores.”
Anya took a deep breath but didn’t say anything.
“I don’t think we should take all the offers we’re getting,” I added. “Most of them are total bullshit, but this is a good offer from a serious network.”
“You sound like you’ve been giving this a lot of thought,” Anya said.
“When I was driving over here, I was thinking a lot about the potential of the video.” I leaned forward, locking my gaze with Anya. “Look, I know you’ve been struggling with getting new customers to the store.”
“ Pfft ,” Morgan said. “That’s an understatement.”
I ignored her comment and stayed focused on Anya. I’d learned a valuable lesson since I stepped foot back into New Burlington. There was something special that small towns had over larger cities. Invested people. Anya’s mugging ordeal, sadly, wasn’t the only of its kind. People get so...self-focused when part of a large crowd. Here, in New Burlington, people cared. Got alongside one another. “It’s not easy for anyone to run a small business these days. Honestly, we can’t buy this kind of publicity.”
“He’s right,” Morgan said.
Anya regarded me and her friend, and I could almost see the gears turning in her head, knew she was working out the pros and cons of accepting an offer like this, of taking a leap of faith that might make her uncomfortable.
“Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll do it. Let’s email her back and ask what we need to do to be on the show.”
She didn’t sound thrilled, but it was enough.
“You’re not going to regret this,” I promised.
“If it’s a disaster, I’m blaming you,” she said.
I grinned. That was fine with me. This was going to be a good thing. Already was a good thing. At least we had that.