“Trixie, darling!” Val calls out with the enthusiasm of someone greeting a long-lost friend rather than a woman she met yesterday. “Come join us at the edge! The view is simply divine.”
“The edge?” I say, but the words come out in barely a whisper.
I make my way over cautiously, suddenly aware that I’m now part of a scene involving three women with possible homicidal tendencies and the aforementioned two-thousand-foot drop.
“Isn’t it magnificent?” Beth sighs, gesturing to the blue-ribbon fjord below. “Madison would have loved this. She always did appreciate a good backdrop for her social media.”
“Madison loved social media.” On cue, Beth’s eyes well up with tears that somehow don’t disturb her mascara.
“Statistically speaking,” Harper interjects while adjusting herglasses, “tourist attractions with dangerous cliff sides experience a much higher incident rate of so-called accidents than other landmarks. Fascinating, isn’t it?”
I resist the urge to take three large steps backward.
“Andcut!” Boomer yells. “Val, can you move two steps to the right? The sun is creating a halo effect that’s washing you out.”
“Are you saying I look heavenly?” Val purrs.
“I’m saying you look invisible,” Boomer replies, and his eye starts twitching. The caffeine overload is strong with this one.
While the crew adjusts lighting equipment, a commotion breaks out near the craft services table. We look over to see a tall man with dark hair, good cheekbones, and a better body, causing the trophy wives to swivel their heads so quickly I’m surprised they don’t get whiplash.
“Is that Ryker Stone?” Val whispers, suddenly forgetting her lighting crisis.
Beth smooths her strawberry-blonde mane. “FromTempest Bay? The one who plays Dr. Thorne?”
“The very same,” Harper confirms, her usual icy demeanor thawing slightly. “He joined the cast last year after his character was presumed dead in that avalanche onPassion’s Embrace.”
The new soap hunk strolls toward us with the confident gait of a man who knows his face is insured for more than most people’s homes. And it better be, because it’s one heck of a face—even as far as soap stars go. The trophy wives immediately begin a subtle choreography of positioning themselves to look casual yet camera-ready.
“Ladies,” he greets them with a smile that turns the charm up to top volume. “Lovely view, isn’t it?”
His arrival creates such a distraction that Boomer has to physically snap his fingers to regain everyone’s attention. Ransom stands beside me, looking thoroughly unimpressed by the newcomer’s effect on the female population.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper to him. “You’re still the most handsome man on this mountain.”
“Comforting,” he mutters back.
These women might be fawning over soap stars, but my husband has basically been starring in a cozy mystery about a cruise ship for as long as I’ve known him. The plot involves a security officer, his accident-prone wife, and a statistically improbable number of homicides at sea. Have I mentioned he’s a great kisser?
We resume filming, this time with Ryker awkwardly inserted into the scene. The script has been hastily rewritten to include him asking the trophy wives about the tragic loss of their friend, which seems tactless given the circumstances, but I suppose perfect for reality television.
“Such a shocking accident,” he says with faux concern.
“It wasn’t an accident,” I blurt out, going off-script.
Boomer dances with glee at this unplanned moment of drama. “Keep rolling!” he hisses to the cameramen.
Val takes a daring step toward the edge before turning to face the group. “Madison had many secrets,” she says cryptically, also deviating from the script. “Some of them were dangerous to know.”
As she speaks, Beth shifts her position, accidentally bumping into Val, who wobbles precariously near the edge of the cliff. For one heart-stopping moment, Val teeters on the brink of a drop so steep she might as well be falling off the planet. Ransom lunges forward, grabs her arm, and plucks her back to safety before we have two dead housewives to contend with.
“Oh my stars!” Val gasps, clutching her chest. “I nearly fell to my death!”
“I’m so sorry!” Beth shouts, looking genuinely horrified. “It was an accident! I swear!”
“CUT!” Boomer shouts, but not before the cameras capture thelook of suspicion Val shoots at Beth. And honestly, I’m doing the same.
“That was PERFECT!” Boomer crows once the cameras stop rolling. “The tension! The near-death experience! Thedrama!This is why we film on location, people!”
