Before the first words could leave her mouth, Rupert swooped into the room.
She fought a scowl.
“There you all are!” He gripped a clipboard in his hands. “SafeStride is waiting by their booth for the post-show photo.”
SafeStride was a personal safety app designed to help users feel secure while traveling, walking alone, or navigating unfamiliar environments. With one-tap activation, it instantly alerted a chosen safety circle and shared live GPS tracking, while also offering features like timed check-ins, virtual companion mode, and automatic alerts if movement suddenly stopped or a phone was dropped.
She’d been over the information so many times she could say it in her sleep. They were also one of the advertisers for their podcast, so their commercials interrupted their episodes every ten minutes or so.
SafeStride—You’re Never Alonewas their motto.
Personally, Andi thought the slogan was a little creepy.
“Andi, darling—here.” Rupert thrust a neon can of Yukon Yeti Energy into her hand. “You’re the only one I haven’t gotten a candid picture with yet—you with your drink of choice.”
Yukon Energy drinks was another sponsor, and the company had come out with special edition flavors just for this tour. Andi still had a hard time wrapping her mind around that one.
Andi’s was Yukon Yeti: Arctic Focus. Icy Mint + Glacier Citrus.“Cold clarity. Killer focus.”
Mariella’s was Blush Rush: Strawberry Rosé Splash.“Sweet energy with dramatic flair.”
Duke—Midnight Blackout: Black Cherry + Dark Espresso.“Silent power. Lasting drive.”
Ranger—Trailbreaker Surge: Pineapple Lime + Electrolytes.“Built for the wild.”
Simmy—Silver Calm: Vanilla Almond + Honey.“Smooth power. Gentle strength.”
Matthew—Overclock Charge: Blue Raspberry + Ginseng.“Fuel your brain. Dominate the data.”
And then there was the overall Tour Exclusive—Cold Case Citrus: Blood Orange + Arctic Lemon.“Once you start . . . you can't stop.”
“Please take one quick sip so I can snap a picture for their social media feeds.” Rupert raised his phone camera. “Just one. They specifically asked for a ‘candid moment of enjoyment.’”
Andi stared at the can.
It stared back—glowing an unnatural shade of electric-blue acid.
“Rupert, I am not drinking melted gummy bear battery fluid right now.” She had to keep her boundaries with the man or he’d trample her. She wasn’t going to let that happen.
His eyes bulged at her rebuttal. “But the sponsor?—”
“No.” Andi shoved the can back in his hand as if it were radioactive. “Absolutely not.”
She hadn’t been in favor of those stupid energy drinks, but she’d been vetoed by the rest of the group. She couldn’t deny that the exposure was great. But how could she support a product she didn’t actually like? To be fair, she didn’t likeanyenergy drinks.
However, all the proceeds from their sales would go to the Alaska’s Missing Person Initiative program. It was a great cause that desperately needed more funding. Andi figured she could suck it up for a good cause.
But she still had her limits.
Rupert looked personally victimized as he stared at the drink. “Come on, Andi. Just a tiny?—”
“Rupert,” Duke warned.
Rupert deflated with a sigh and slunk toward the doorway, muttering something about “branding crises” and “the death of subtlety.”
When he was gone, Ranger dropped onto the couch with a grunt. “He’s a piece of work.”
“But brilliant,” Mariella added before looking at Andi. “You were about to say something? Maybe about that woman you were meeting with?”
