“Places!” Hillary shouts.
If not for Irene grabbing my bicep and pulling me into position, I’d be hightailing it to my Mustang.
You have to see this through, for Jake, Hank, and Ali. You owe them that much.
Brett and Rose take spots opposite us, putting Hillary in the middle. Eva stands off to the side.
“I still can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mutter under my breath.
Irene elbows my ribs and cuts me a glare.
“Alright, everybody,” Hillary shouts. “Remember the talking points. I wanna see real emotion. Focus on how scared you were. And, oh, see those gentlemen over there.” Hillary points to a group of suited men. “Those guys are Chatter Entertainment’s attorneys. One wrong word, and not only do you not get paid, but you get sued.”
Before, I was anxious, but now, I’m afraid.
Irene rolls her eyes. “Don’t be chicken shit. What are they gonna sue ya for?”
I glance over at a smug Brett, who looks like he’s gonna hit up a Vegas casino.
“Who the hell told you to buy knockoff Armani?” Eva snaps, swiping the sunglasses off of Brett’s and Rose’s faces. “You’re supposed to be hillbillies, not some middle-class imposters.”
“Ouch,” Irene whispers.
It’s obvious by the look on his face that Brett’s pride has been wounded. Rose doesn’t seem too bothered, keeping her eyes on the prize, I guess.
Which, to her, seems to be money.
“Huddle now,” Hillary instructs, and we gather close. “Garrett and Irene, you two focus on the history. Brett and Rose, you two focus on the wedge that Ali drove between you two. Don’t be afraid to bark at each other. Rose, I expect to see tears. Brett, remorse. Garrett, plead into the camera how much you miss her and want her to get help. I wanna see puppy dog love. Irene, you’re going to give us a special history of what Ali was like in her childhood. Does everyone remember their talking points?”
We nod, murmur, and take our positions.
As the crew is equipping us with mics, Hillary points down the road leading to Bons. “Who the hell is that?”
Coming down the dirt path are two large vans and a black Cadillac, Escalade.
Hillary looks around. “Are we missing crew members?”
The vehicles pull to a stop. Jake Carter steps out of the driver’s seat of a van and slides open the back door.
Hank, Norma, Alistair Whent, Might Be Meghan, an assistant of some sort, Prim, and Ali Kat Carter herself exit the vehicle.
What the hell is going on here?
The other van opens, and a camera crew spills out while a bunch of suited men exit the Cadillac.
“What the hell is all this?” Hillary gestures around wildly.
Might Be Meghan approaches, a wide grin spread across her photogenic face. “Oh, we’re going live for my client’s docuseries.” She holds out a hand for Hillary to shake. “Ali Kat Carter retained me and my crew.”
Eva lights a cigarette, taking a frustrated puff. “Well, you’re gonna have to come back, because we’re about to film.”
“I don’t think so.” She turns to the Carters. “Places!”
Hillary’s eyes light in fury. “The nerve!”
A cop car comes careening down the path, pulls to a stop, and Sherif Dewey steps out.
“Oh, police officer!” Hillary marches over to my long-time friend. “I’m with Chatter Entertainment, and we were here filming when these people interrupted.”
