Chapter Sixteen An Intrusion
Kitty
I should have known something was wrong the moment Lydia said the words quick interview .
She said it from the kitchen doorway, a cup of coffee in her hand, phone in her other hand, with cheeks pink with excitement.
I was sitting at the table surrounded by papers.
Vendor forms, the layout for the market, and the tentative lineup for the upcoming talent show.
I had three tabs open on my laptop and a mug of tea I had reheated twice because I had forgotten to drink it.
“It’s just a little social media thing,” Lydia said. “Ten minutes. Maybe less. I told them I was busy.”
I didn’t look up. That was my first mistake. My second was only half listening to my younger sister.
“Busy with what?” I asked, already typing a response to an email marked URGENT.
“Life,” Lydia said cheerfully. “The inn. Christmas. Me.”
That tracked.
“Who is it for?” I questioned, not because I was interested, more because I was trying to be somewhat polite.
She waved her phone vaguely. “Some online holiday channel . They found us through the Winter Carnival posts. I think they want decorating tips or something. Maybe a behind-the-scenes vibe.”
I hummed noncommittally and shuffled a stack of forms into a neater pile. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad about it? The last time you made social media posts we were swamped with bookings before we even had rooms renovated.”
Lydia laughed. “We are still renovating rooms. People don’t seem to care as long as they can be involved in the next new thing. I think we should capitalize on being trending while we can.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Maybe Lydia had a point. While we hadn’t been really ready to be open, let alone booking guests, somehow it had all turned out okay.
“I’m just saying,” I said carefully. “A little caution isn’t a bad thing.”
She rolled her eyes affectionately. “Kitty, relax. It’s not a real interview. It’s just a livestream.”
That got my attention.
I looked up. “A livestream?”
“Yes,” she said brightly. “But the poster said they would keep the interview up for a while on their blog.”
“Hopefully you make a good impression,” I murmured.
She grinned. “You worry too much..”
I shrugged. Someone should be worrying because Lydia certainly wasn’t.
I kept working at my list of things to do and finalize, unconcerned until I realized that Lydia was setting up her phone right here at the kitchen table, propping it up against a sugar canister to get the right angle.
She adjusted it until the light caught her just right.
“You aren’t going to get me on screen, are you?” I asked, conscious of the fact that I hadn’t brushed my hair this morning, simply opting to put it in a messy bun. Nor had I put on any makeup.
“No. They just asked to talk to me. I didn’t think you would want to be on camera wearing that top. Really Kitty, it’s time for that old shirt to be made into cleaning rags,” Lydia offhandedly commented.
I touched my hoodie. “I like this shirt.”
“It has a sauce stain,” Lydia remarked.
“Where?” I looked down, trying to find the offending stain among the faded print on the shirt that advertised for a hardware store I once worked at during high school.
Lydia’s phone screen lit up with a cheerful face and a countdown. Three. Two. One.
“We’re live ,” the interviewer said brightly. “Hi everyone. I’m here today in Maple Ridge with Kitty Bennet.”
My stomach dropped as I froze in place.
Lydia smiled and waved. “Hi.”
The interviewer continued, unfazed. “You’ve had such an exciting winter season already. Between the inn, the Winter Carnival, and your relationship with Caleb Green, things must be busy.”
I turned slowly to Lydia. Her smile wavered, just slightly, as she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.
I shook my head. Once. Sharp. Clear.
She nodded, then leaned closer to the phone. “Yes, it’s been very busy. We’ve always loved the holidays.”
I mouthed that’s not your name as I pointed to myself.
The interviewer beamed. “You’ve been so supportive of Caleb’s return to the public eye. How does it feel being in the spotlight yourself?”
My heart started pounding. Loud enough that I was certain it could be heard through the phone.
Lydia laughed, a little too brightly. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I just help where I can. I thought we were going to be discussing the SnowDrop Inn?”
“Caleb Green is trending and my fans have given me a list of questions to ask you,” the interviewer held up a paper. “Like how did you meet? Is he really as cute in person as his pictures? Does Caleb intend to start touring again? When is his new song coming out?”
“Hi,” I said, forcing a polite smile as I leaned in, just enough for my shoulder to enter the frame. “I think there’s been a mix-up.”
The interviewer’s eyes flicked toward me. “Oh. Are you—”
“I’m Kitty,” I said. “She’s my sister Lydia.”
Lydia nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. I’m Lydia. I really don’t know how you could get us mixed up.”
“Oh,” the interviewer said, blinking. “I’m so sorry. You look so similar.”
“Not really. I have much better fashion sense and Kitty is so much more practical than me,” Lydia compared.
I tried again. “And I’m not speaking for Caleb’s career.”
The interviewer laughed lightly. “Of course. But you must have thoughts about what’s next for him. Fans are very curious whether he’ll tour again. Will you be going on tour with him?”
I felt heat crawl up my neck. “I don’t think we should discuss this any further.”
Lydia cleared her throat. “What Kitty means is—”
I reached for the phone, intending to lower it, maybe end the stream entirely. Lydia misunderstood and gently pushed my hand away, smiling at the camera.
“She’s shy,” Lydia said fondly. “She doesn’t love interviews.”
“I am not shy,” I said. “I don’t want to speak for Caleb. It’s not okay. I didn’t agree to be interviewed.”
The interviewer’s smile faltered, just a touch, but the live stream kept rolling. “So just to clarify, you’re not involved in any decisions regarding Caleb Green’s future? You are his girlfriend. Surely you know what’s next for Caleb?”
“I’m not discussing this,” I said firmly.
“How about telling the audience how the both of you met? What’s your story? Just what kind of guy is Caleb in person? We’re all here for the tea and I hope it’s piping hot,” she commented.
There was a pause. The kind that stretches too long when you know people are watching.
Lydia laughed again, nerves creeping in now. “This is getting serious for a holiday chat.”
“Lydia, turn it off,” I told her.
“If you’ll excuse us for just a moment,” Lydia hit the mute button and turned the camera angle away before frowning at me.
“There are at least fifty thousand people on that live stream. You need to be nicer or they are going to say mean things about you. I know this wasn’t what we originally thought it was going to be, but Kitty, we don’t want bad publicity for the inn. ”
I exhaled, frustrated by the situation. “This isn’t okay.”
“I know it’s not. Look, it’s different than I was promised too. But we need to figure out how to make the best of it before shutting it down,” Lydia explained.
“Fine.” I watched as she unmuted the phone and put both of us back in the frame again.
“Sorry about that. We just needed a moment to get on the same page,” Lydia mentioned with a charming smile.
“I just want to clear something up. I will say that Caleb is a wonderful person but I would like everyone to respect his privacy. I’m happy to answer any questions about the SnowDrop Inn,” I tried to redirect the conversation.
For a few minutes we discussed our family adventure of opening an old inn, renovating, and becoming part of the local business community. The comments on them were already scrolling faster than I could read them. Hearts. Question marks. Personal remarks that I wasn’t certain I was comfortable with.
She’s cute.
Is that Caleb’s girlfriend?
I love her sweater.
Tell us about Caleb.
Why are we listening to her? I want Caleb news!
Her hair is weird. She’s not that good looking.
What does he see in her?
I sat back, jaw tight, and told myself to breathe. I admitted to myself that I had been jealous of Lydia’s fanbase, her social media success, but now that I was in the spotlight, I wasn’t sure I liked it at all.
The interviewer glanced down at her screen, then back up, curiosity sharpening. “What is it like being Caleb Green’s girlfriend? Is he as nice as everyone says he is? What do the two of you like to do together? What is it like to date a country star?”
“It’s been private,” I said. “And we’re keeping it that way.”
Lydia inhaled sharply beside me, then recovered. “What Kitty means is—”
“What I mean,” I said, still smiling, “is that Caleb and I want to enjoy our relationship without outside pressure. I would appreciate it if we didn’t speak about it.”
There was another pause. The interviewer nodded, clearly deciding not to push further.
“Well,” she said brightly, “that sounds wonderful. Thank you both for taking the time to chat with us.”
The screen filled with waving hands and holiday emojis, and then the LIVE indicator disappeared.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Lydia turned to me slowly. “I’m so sorry.”
I closed my eyes and pressed my fingertips to my temples. “It’s okay.”
“It isn’t okay,” she said quickly. “I honestly thought she wanted to interview me. I didn’t realize she was going to just continually ask you about Caleb.”
“I know,” I said. “It was an honest mistake.”
She reached for my arm. “I really am sorry.”
I looked at her then, truly looked at her, and the tension eased. Lydia was contrite in a way that mattered. She had not been intentionally trying to hurt anyone, she had been Lydia.
“I believe you,” I said. “We’ll deal with it.”
Lydia’s phone buzzed and she tapped the screen before grimacing. “You’re not going to like this.”
“What now?” I asked in resignation.
“They think you’re hiding something. Some people said you were rude. Others are protesting that you’re merely protecting your relationship,” Lydia said. “It’s creating more interest than ever.”
“Oh boy,” I put my hands in my head. I wasn’t sure Caleb was going to like this. He didn’t want any more hype at the moment.
Lydia turned to me, tilting her head. “So how come you didn’t tell us that the two of you are dating?”
Was I supposed to tell Lydia Caleb and I were fake dating? Was I allowed to? My mind scrambled. I chose deflection. “You didn’t announce that you and Ephram are a couple.”
“Yeah but everyone knows,” Lydia told me. “I thought we were close and you would tell me these things.”
“It’s all new. I’m still processing it,” I replied. That was at least truthful.
My phone buzzed.
Then buzzed again.
I glanced down and felt my stomach drop. Messages from numbers I didn’t recognize were flooding in. Notifications of direct message requests. A voice message.
“What is going on?” I murmured.
“I think you’re about to become famous. You’re going to have to block most of those numbers or get an unlisted phone number,” Lydia mentioned as she looked over my screen.
I thumbed through notifications on my social media that suddenly numbered in the hundreds. Some people asking personal questions about Caleb, others saying I wasn’t good enough for him, others asking if I could get them in touch with Caleb because they wanted to be his band.
I shut my phone off.
“I think we should talk about this later,” Lydia said quietly.
“Yes,” I said. “Later.”
She hovered for a moment, then squeezed my shoulder and slipped out of the kitchen.
Footsteps sounded in the hall, brisk and purposeful.
“Kitty,” Great Aunt Cathy said, sweeping into the kitchen. “I just saw that interview.”
Of course she had. I straightened instinctively. “There was a misunderstanding.”
“There was an embarrassment ,” she corrected. “And one that could have been avoided.”
“It was live,” I said evenly. “That isn’t something I control.”
Her lips thinned. “Anne would never have allowed herself to be put in that position.”
Something in me stilled.
“Anne wasn’t in the position. I was,” I told her.
“It’s preposterous, Caleb Green choosing a nobody like you when my daughter is a far better catch,” Great Aunt Cathy complained.
I tried not to take her insult personally. “I would appreciate it if you would speak about Caleb with more respect. Just because you want something to be different doesn’t change the facts.”
Cathy studied me, narrowing her eyes. “You should be more careful of what you say to me, young missie. I’m the only one with any sort of financial influence in this family and I can choose who I leave my wealth to.”
“I don’t need your money. I’m fine,” I tightly replied.
“I heard the music shop was in financial straits. Maybe I can make your boyfriend see sense and choose Anne,” Great Aunt Cathy mused.
I stood up. I might be short, but I was angry, and I stretched as tall as I could to get my message across. “Caleb Green is a decent man who isn’t going to be bribed to date Anne. Not only is he above that, but it’s disrespectful to your granddaughter.”
I grabbed my paperwork and swept out of the kitchen, ignoring her sputtering reply.
The worst part was deep down I wasn’t so sure my words were true.