Page 73 of Axe-Rated Lumberjack

For a moment, I remembered the way he’d welcomed me into his home the evening before. We’d cooked dinner together, laughed over our work, and talked about seeing each other after I returned to Minneapolis.

I’d been looking forward to another morning with him.

Instead, I was leaving before breakfast.

I glanced toward the kitchen one last time.

The paper bag of maple-pecan scones sat beside the coffee maker, still folded closed.

We’d bought them because we were planning to spend Sunday morning together.

I tightened my grip on my keys, stepped onto the porch, and closed the door behind me.

Chapter 6

Oliver answered on the third ring.

“Hudson! I was just about to check whether you and Peyton were ready for the final recording.”

“We’ve got a problem, Oliver. Somebody at Folio put my photograph and full name on a public advertisement for the audiobook. My brother sent me a screenshot this morning, and I want to know who authorized it.”

There was a brief silence, followed by the sound of something being moved across a desk.

“What advertisement? Hudson, I haven’t approved anything like that. Can you send me the screenshot?”

I forwarded the image while he waited.

“I signed a contract that specifically prohibited this,” I reminded him. “You and I went over those terms twice. I don’t want an apology from somebody who hasn’t even looked into it yet. I want to know how it happened and what you’re doing to fix it.”

“That’s completely fair. Give me a moment to pull up the image.”

I heard him typing, then muttering something I couldn’t make out.

“Good Lord. That’s an internal campaign concept. It was never cleared for publication.” His voice had lost its usual easy professionalism. “Hudson, I’m looking at it now, and I can assure you that neither Bridget nor I approved this.”

“Then somebody needs to explain why it’s on your company’s account.”

“They certainly do. I’m contacting our publicity department immediately, and Bridget needs to know about this. She’s working today because of the production deadline.”

Oliver was already taking the problem seriously. I wished I’d called him before Peyton had packed her bag.

“I’ll stay available,” I said. “But I want answers, Oliver. And I want that photograph taken down.”

“You’ll have both. Let me get Bridget involved, and we’ll find out exactly what happened.”

I ended the call and opened the screenshot again.

The photograph showed me outside in a flannel shirt, looking like somebody had decided a real lumberjack would make an excellent advertisement for a filthy romance novel. I didn’t know where they’d found the picture, but it was certainly me, and my full name was right there for anyone to see.

I thought about my brother sending it around to the rest of the family. He’d probably get a laugh out of the situation once he understood what was happening. My crew might have a few things to say about it too.

I could live with some teasing from people who knew me. What bothered me was that a company I’d trusted with my personal information had put it out there without asking.

And I’d taken my anger out on the woman who’d spent the last three days making sure nobody recorded so much as a private conversation without permission.

I put the phone down and went into the kitchen.

The scones were still beside the coffee maker. I opened the bag, took one out, and ate it standing at the counter. Stormi had done a hell of a job with them, but I couldn’t remember tasting much by the time I finished.