All That Really Matters, Nicole Deese [best detective novels of all time .TXT] 📗

“too cute for even asking” and “of course not.” I captioned the story Surprise Summer Shoot . . . TBA! Within minutes, my notifications blew up and the heaviness pressing down on my shoulders began to melt.

See? I told the unsettled feeling inside me. This is fine. Everything is just fine.

Turned out, going full glam in Malibu was an intense process. I was quite certain I’d have to scrape this foundation off later with a spatula. But I’d definitely have to circle back to the highlighter stick Danny used on my cheekbones. I wanted to buy a few for the upcoming sleepover in Lavender Cottage.

Just as I was putting my phone away after getting dressed in the one-piece swimsuit and sarong ensemble that had been waiting for me in my dressing room—thank you for that, Ethan!—my text chirped another time.

Clara

Hi, Molly! We prayed for your big shoot today during our Saturday morning pancake feed (Jake never wants to miss Glo’s pancakes). The girls just watched your IG story, and they’re currently texting all their friends to like your pages and to watch for your updates. You have quite the fan club here now. Pretty sure you’ll win the popular vote for Mentor of the Year! Haha. ? Good luck today! P.S. You look radiant!

For some odd reason, the kindness of Clara’s text message—a woman who had known me for no more than two weeks—caused the tip of my nose to tingle. The Bridge girls had seen me just now? They’d shared me with their friends? Somehow the idea was as flattering as it was terrifying.

“Molly?” Truella called out. “We’re getting everything set up at the pool for you. Our producers thought it might be fun to do the whole kit reveal on camera—though I know you already saw the items. Just do your best to act surprised at everything.” She laughed at herself.

“Of course.” I stuck the phone in my purse and followed after her again, tightening the sarong knot at my hip. The fabric was itchy, woven with metallic ribbon that scratched my skin, but hey, I was grateful for the coverage.

The crew positioned me directly behind a table, commenting several times on my Malibu Barbie hair. With the pool water shimmering behind me and my sarong blowing in the warm breeze, I couldn’t help but contrast this tropical reality with the one from yesterday: sitting at a picnic table with all six of my mentor girls as we zipped up our sweatshirts in the cool shade up north. I touched the pink-and-white box in the middle of the tabletop surface, thinking about how much they’d love one of these summer kits and how none of the sparkly items inside would be something their limited budgets could afford. Maybe I could ask for twelve boxes to be shipped to The Bridge for the girls after we were through here today.

“We’re just about ready here, Molly,” Truella purred. “Just making final adjustments to the lighting.”

I glanced at the cheat sheet she’d taped between me and the box, just in case I needed more than what I could ad-lib on my own. It was a nice but likely unnecessary gesture. From the email exchange I’d read on the plane between Ethan and the marketing director, I’d learned more about their Anniversary Campaign. It was an honor they’d asked me to influence their products and company, even if I was on their B list.

Truella primped my hair and tucked the tail of my sarong behind me. “We’re gonna try to do this video in two takes so we can get the most authentic reactions from you when you open the collection for the first time. Since you’re used to doing lives, I’m figuring that won’t be an issue. The first one will be an intro where you’ll make sure to mention your love for Sophia and her company, as well as to remind viewers about the twenty-dollar discount code when they request their first subscription month.”

“Sounds good.” Though wasn’t it strange for me to talk up a woman I’d never interacted with before? Although, I supposed many of my followers did the same thing with me every day. How many of them did I know in real life? How many had I spoken to or shared time with? I didn’t need to be a math whiz like Clara to know the number was far closer to zero than I cared to admit.

As the cameraman made some last-minute adjustments, I posed with my most practiced of smiles, the one I used on all my video openers. The one that wouldn’t create a weird still frame once the segment became a minimized icon on someone’s phone screen. This post, however, would be a sponsored promotional ad that would run on all major social media platforms, be emailed directly to customer leads, and be played throughout binge-worthy TV shows that matched the keyword algorithms of the viewers who watched. Viewers like the girls I mentored at The Bridge.

Truella pulled my tousled hair forward to cascade over my shoulders and down my chest. The producer signaled, and Truella gave me a we’re-ready-when-you-are nod and finger point.

“Hello, everyone! I’m Molly McKenzie with Makeup Matters with Molly. And I’m absolutely delighted to be at Sophia Richards’s gorgeous Malibu home to celebrate with her and the entire Fit Glam squad on their five-year anniversary! So many of you have enjoyed this incredible box subscription over the years, and I’m telling you right now, they have saved the best of the best for this summer’s glamorous collection!” I leaned forward to pretend whisper to the camera. “And a little birdie told me this July box holds over two hundred dollars more in value than usual.”

Truella gave me a thumbs-up followed by a wrap-up sign, which was my cue to drop in the promo code commercial.

“And cut. Wow!” Truella exchanged impressed glances with her camera crew. “I think that might be our best first take ever. You’re such a natural at this, girl!”

“Thanks.”