Page 88 of Stolen for Keeps
Claire shook her head. “Don’t. You know those sites push back hard before they’ll take anything down.”
“Not if it’s fake,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I know exactly who’s behind it.”
She rubbed her face with both hands. “Please, Noah. I know you probably could handle it. But I’m too beat to deal with the backlash.”
I hadn’t seen her look this done before. “Okay. But if it spirals, let me know.”
She tried for a smile. “So what’s this got to do with you anyway? No one’s complained about your dancing.”
I chuckled, but she knew I wasn’t joking around.
“Napoleon is behind this,” I said. “Maya ran into him a few days ago while he was scouting venues. Up by the trail fork, on the way to the falls.”
“Shit,” Elia muttered. “The Powder Keg?”
Claire gave him a look.
“It’s what Dad used to call it,” Elia explained. “Pretty place, but the earth’s looser than it looks. It shifts easily if you step wrong.”
I nodded. “He started taking photos of her without asking, so she chucked his phone into the ravine. And he blew up.”
Claire’s eyebrows shot up.
“There was a landslide,” I said. “She saved him, but she fell doing it. And he just left her there.”
Claire winced. “That’s awful!”
“Please, keep this just between us,” I said. “Napoleon’s the wedding planner for Maya’s cousin, Annamaria. And Maya and Annamaria have a complicated past.” I glanced at Elia.
“I’ll fill you in,” he told Claire.
“I promised Maya we wouldn’t report the incident. Let us handle it.”
Elia nodded without hesitation. “You have my word.” Claire gave a quiet nod too.
“Thank you,” I said. “And again, I’m so sorry.”
Claire touched my arm. “You don’t need to apologize. We’re family.”
Then she turned to Elia, rubbing her eyes. “I think I’ll go back to bed.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I’ll be there soon.”
I dragged a hand down my face. “Geez, El. I feel like crap.”
He shook his head. “We’ve been through worse. Claire’s tough. No need to tell Maya about those reviews. She’d just feel bad.”
Bless my brother. But I said, “I will. I don’t want to keep things from her.”
He smiled. “That’s a Lucas.” Then he gave me that classic big-brother shrug. “All right, I’ll leave you to handle what needs handling.”
With a nod, I patted his shoulder while he pushed himself upright.
He paused, just for a second. This wasn’t about Napoleon or those fake reviews. It was about me leaving the Lazy Moose. Moving next door shouldn’t have felt like a goodbye, but somehow, it did. And in that brief hesitation, I felt a different kind of homecoming, even though it was time for me to step away.
“Hey,” I called over my shoulder. “Whiskey & Barrel sometime? My shout.”
He kept it cool, almost. “’Course.”
