An arm dropped around her shoulders, startling her so much that some of the drink sloshed onto her hand.
“Hey, Carter! Whatcha doin’?”
She looked at her phone screen, wide-eyed. Her avatar would have squealed like an anime schoolgirl, but Carter couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Fitzy! Hi! Um. You know, recording a little behind-the-scenes footage for our favorite fandom. Do you want to say hello?”
“Heck yeah, I want to say hello!” To Carter’s surprise, he took the phone away from her so he could speak directly into the camera. Doubly to her surprise, he didn’t take his arm off her shoulders. “What’s happening, Clue Masters? You’re hearing it here first—the other teams need to bring their A game if they have any hope of beating this genius right here.” He tipped his head closer to Carter’s, framing them both in the video. “I’m contractually obligated not to show bias toward our contestants, but . . .” He made a humorously pained face. “I amso biased. All right, I better not say any more, or I’m going to be in breach of, like, a really scary contract. Point is, I can’t wait to watch this superstar do her thing in the next round.”
Warmth flooded Carter from her curly red hair all the way to the tips of her fingers.
“Th-thanks, Fitzy. I guess we’ll see.”
“This girl is way too humble,” he said into the camera, clicking his tongue. “Now, if your doting fans don’t mind . . . could I borrow you for a minute? Off the record?”
Gloriously relieved to have a reason to stop filming, Carter attempted to look apologetic. “I can’t say no to that. This is Kick It Carter, and I’ll be bringing you more behind-the-scenes looks throughout the season. As long as I don’t get eliminated.” With one last half-panicked smile that she hoped came off as more silly than legitimately terrified, she stopped the recording and put her phone away.
“Thanks,” she said. “I guarantee that’s going to be my most-viewed video of all time.” She started to lick her spilled drink from the back of her hand before realizing that it was probably a weird thing to do in public.
If Fitzy was judging her lack of swanky-bar etiquette, it didn’t show. “Happy to be of service. Sorry for startling you earlier. Can I get you another drink? What are you having—screwdriver?”
She flushed, not entirely sure what that was, but it definitely sounded alcoholic. And strangely euphemistic. “It’s pineapple juice. I’m underage.”
His dimples appeared, and she realized with a grimace—
“Right. We all are. Obviously.”
“Yeah, I was joking. Ranielle’s pretty strict with the no-drinking policy.”
She smiled, more than a little distracted by the warmth of his hand on her upper arm, the clean scent of his shirt, like laundry detergent but . . . sexier?
Ohgod.
Nope. No way was she going to be one of those girls crushing on the dopey surfer-boy host. Carter was into the intellectual aspects ofThe Escape Game. The clues, the puzzles, the red herrings. She was a Solve Specialist, not some groupie.
“So . . . one pineapple juice? Coming up?” Fitzy prompted, and Carter realized she’d been staring awkwardly.
“Oh! Yeah. Sure. That’d be great. Thanks.”
She lingered behind while he took her empty glass to the bar and placed a new order. He reappeared minutes later, holding Carter’s drink and an orange soda for himself. “Look, I wanted to apologize,” he said, handing her the drink. “I heard what happened in Louis’s office the other day.”
At the reminder, Carter shrank back and took another gulp.
“I really didn’t think Ranielle would flip out like that,” he continued. “I thought she’d see it as a good thing. Why did she pick you as a contestant if she didn’t want fan videos, right? But—whatever. The point is, I messed up, and as soon as I heard, I went straight to Ranielle’s office and told her it was my idea.” He hesitated. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“It’s okay. I signed the NDA. I knew I wasn’t supposed to interview the Game Master without permission.”
“So . . . am I forgiven?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
Fitzy let out a relieved breath, then clinked their glasses together. “Here’s to Team Helsing.”
“You reallyarebiased.”
She meant it as a joke, but Fitzy appeared troubled by the comment. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t joking about that scary contract.” He hastily pulled his arm off Carter’s shoulder. “We’re not supposed to canoodle with the contestants, either.”
Canoodle.Funny choice of word. Carter would’ve teased him for it if he hadn’t looked so uneasy.
