Page 70 of It Happened in Vegas

We slumped together over the counter, breathless and tangled. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, knowing she captured my heart completely.

“I love you, Sophie,” I whispered.

“I love you, too, Keaton.” She pressed her forehead to mine.

“Still think there are cracks beneath the surface for Melanie to find?”

She shook her head, eyes heavy-lidded. Then her phone rang again.

I let her go, for now, and headed to the bathroom to clean up. When I returned, her expression was unreadable.

“Keaton, you’re not going to believe this. I got invited to an interview forBrand You Now. It’s a national marketing show where they makeover a business each week. Live taping happens in New York. And you’ll never guess who referred me. Melanie. Do you know how many doors this could open for me?”

She beamed, so proud of herself, and she deserved it. Only my stomach dropped.

I covered up my concern with a smile plastered on, and words of encouragement. But doors opening for her meant none of them led to me. Each one could take her away, right when we finally admitted we loved each other.

26

MELEE, MELEE

SOPHIE

The morning startedwith a false sense of calm on this pretty Halloween day.

I ran a damp cloth across the bar’s mahogany top, the grain cool under my fingertips, while Jessa unloaded the dishwasher nearby. Each clink of glassware sounded too loud in the hush. Keaton was holed up in his office, negotiating with the mayor. I should have been relieved—our morning had felt almost peaceful.

“So,” Jessa breezed, wiping her hands on her apron, “anything new between you two?” Her eyes danced with curiosity.

Not at all sure what she meant by that, I shrugged and leaned against the bar, sipping my coffee. I scrolled through the latest updates on our shared email with Melanie and the production team.

Then the screen blurred as a message from Melanie popped up—sent to me by mistake.

It indicated that they had apparently been quietly and sneakily in town for two days already. Which meant only one thing: she’d been gathering footage. Stirring the pot. Getting the drama she coveted.

I opened one of her teaser clips posted today on the network’s social media, and my stomach knotted. She had done street interviews in Holly Creek? Some locals voiced their frustrations about how Keaton’s popularity meant too many tourists clogged up parking. Others complained about traffic. One woman fussed about the wait times at Flora’s Diner. Petty things—but when stitched together with moody B-roll and dramatic music? It all added up to a big problem.

“Are you watching the circus?” Keaton’s voice made me jump. “That call was from the mayor who gave me an earful.”

I flipped the phone around so he could see. His jaw clenched, knuckles white on the edge of the bar. “So this is how she wants to play it,” he murmured.

“She’s framing this whole thing like we’re villains bringing the city to the country.”

He glanced sharply at Jessa nearby in earshot, then led me by the elbow to a corner booth. He narrowed his eyes at my screen. The whole time he watched again, his jaw ticked.

“I get it,” I said gently. “She’s doing what she always does. Creating drama for the sake of views. But the majority of the town supports what’s happening around here, you know that. Your restaurant plans are going to be incredible. Flora’s diner is getting a facelift, not a funeral. Rex and Richard are bringing in business and the town council hasn’t said one word about it.”

Keaton rubbed the back of his neck as if unconvinced. “I just don’t want to lose what made this small town special.” Every syllable felt like a plea.

“You won’t,” I said, stepping closer. “You, Vivian, Flora and so many others are what makes it special. One TV show isn’t going to break that.”

He studied me, lips parting as if to say more, but only squeezed my hand. His gaze lingered on my face, weighted withan emotion I couldn’t name. “Your optimism kills me,” he finally whispered.

Before I could answer, the door swung open. Melanie’s smile blasted across the room, her camera crew streaming in like vultures. “Ready to roll?” she chirped.

Keaton’s muttered “Let’s get it over with” made my stomach flip. We sat on chairs in front of our favorite Victorian fireplace backdrop. Melanie perched on her stool, tapping her clipboard.

“Today, we’re diving into what comes next for our favorite couple,” she began. “What the future looks like for Sophie and Keaton Kingston.”

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