Page 129 of The Beekeeper

“What?” His brows pinched together.

“How long will they be filming?”

He shrugged. “A few months.”

“Okay, so you’re going to put your dream on hold for what, a few years? Because you can’t stomach a few months in front of the camera?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “I don’t like it.”

“What would you do if you weren’t afraid?”

He glowered. “I’m not afraid.”

“Great, then it won’t hurt to hear the man out.”

Nox grunted, shifting his weight. “I guess I should at least get a drink with him. For information.”

“I think so, too.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be right back. I have to piss.”

I fought hard not to smile, watching my brother slowly warm to the idea as he walked away.

Nox was very much like the glass he worked with: hard and cold most of the time, until something got him fired up enough to make him malleable.

I returned to packing up Nox’s display, distracting myself with the image of my brother on a reality TV show, when voices burst my bubble.

“Oh my god, it is her.”

A chill scratched along my spine, but I ignored it. No one could be talking about me. Not here. No one could even recognize me here⁠—

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Why would she be here though? Why wouldn’t she be with Blaze?”

I fumbled the bubble wrap, sending up a silent prayer I wasn’t holding any of Nox’s pieces.

“Excuse me.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and wished I could melt right into the floor. But I couldn’t. I had to face them. I had to face this. I turned as every muscle in my body braced for whatever was about to happen.

Was it the photos from the beach? Had they come over to gawk at one of Blaze Stevens’s confirmed and discarded flings? Was I going to be some kind of spectacle of Blaze’s heartbreak circus?

The two women stared at me like not only was I supposed to know what they wanted to ask, but I was supposed to offer up an answer without prompt.

“Can I help you?”

Their mouths opened and closed like hungry guppies.

“I’m so sorry, but are you…are you Harper Hamilton?” They crowded closer to the table, and my eyes desperately scanned for Nox. Crap.

“Yes, why?” My hands tightened, popping a bubble on the bubble wrap that wasn’t really that loud but I was so on edge I jumped. I have no comment, I repeated the answer in my mind, preparing to let the words run from my mouth as soon as they asked whatever it was they wanted about Blaze.

“Oh my god!” they both exclaimed in unison, looking to each other and then to me. “I can’t believe it’s you⁠—”

“I’m sorry, I really have to get back to work. We have to be out of here⁠—”