River had been staring intently at the wall, but she turned her head.

Bree stepped into the room, giving her a once-over. “You look terrible.”

River waited for Bree to cross the room, hugging her. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“I feel like you’re going to break my already broken ribs. Don’t squeeze so hard.”

“How are you? How’s Jessie?”

Pulling a stool to the side of River’s bed, Bree watched River’s foot in fascination. “Better than you. Your toe is—”

“Nope, nope, nope. Do not tell me. I don’t want to know.”

Bree chuckled. “Trust me, I should be taking stock footage on this. It’s a hundred times worse than the torture barn.”

“Nothing is worse than the torture barn,” River disagreed, relaxing back against her pillows. The nurse finished with her foot, rewrapped it, and gave her a dose of painkillers in a small cup before leaving. Despite being in a significant amount of pain from the procedure, River set the cup aside.

“I’d be popping those and chasing them with hard liquor if I were you,” Bree said. “That looked like it hurt.”

“It’s weird, but I like the pain. If I can feel it, I know my foot is going to be fine. Hey, how’s Easton? I think he’s been putting on the tough guy front for me.”

“Oh, that man is a nightmare. It’s not a front; he’s really that tough. His sister is worse. Since Easton’s been busy driving the hospital staff up the wall over you, she decided to ‘take charge’ of us.” Bree made air quotes with her fingers. “I have never felt so micromanaged in my life. If she hadn’t rescued me off a mountain or kept stuffing us full of scrambled eggs and coffee, I might hate her.”

“You love her.”

“Probably.” Bree made a playful face. “The Locketts are lovable people. Strange, pushy, and occasionally off-putting, but lovable.”

There was something River couldn’t quite put her finger on about Bree. Her friend sounded relaxed, but so much time with her had taught River the tension in Bree’s shoulders was too tight. Her fingernails kept drumming against the railing of the hospital bed. Bree was determinedly not looking at anything but River, when she normally watched everything around her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Who says anything’s wrong?”

River narrowed her eyes. “Literally every part of you but your lips.”

“I have your phone,” Bree said randomly. “I should probably give it to you, but I really don’t want to. The last thing you need right now is the stress of dealing with everyone.”

River frowned, sitting up higher. “Define everyone.”

Bree sighed. “Someone at the hospital leaked the story.”

“How do you know it was someone at the hospital?”

“There’s a picture of you in a hospital bed on every entertainment website and TV show right now.” Picking up the remote control connected to her bed, Bree turned on the television. “Someone caught a picture of you and Easton kissing.”

She increased the volume, then went to the most popular entertainment and celebrity gossip station. Two women sat perched on stools in a studio with an oversized picture of…yep. That was a grainy photo of River and Easton, on her hospital bed, entwined and kissing right between the two television hosts.

The host on the left spoke brightly. “While River has been unavailable for comment, sources close to the actress say she’s in good spirits despite her ordeal. More to come soon. Rill, can you imagine being stuck on a mountain in the freezing cold? I can’t even leave the house if it dips into the seventies—”

As they began to talk about sweater weather, Bree paused the screen.

“The internet is worse,” she said. “It’s everywhere. You need to get someone on this. Your agent and your publicist, maybe? Someone will have to put out a statement.”

“Will they?” Sighing, River leaned her head back against her pillow. “Bree, do you remember what it was like to not have anyone care about all this crap? What we eat, what we wear, what we make faces at because it’s stupid?”

Crossing her legs beneath her, Bree winced, then changed positions. “No one ever cares what Jessie and I do. River, do you mind if I speak honestly with you?”

“It would be preferable to lying to me and letting me bop along clueless to the truth.”

“When we first got here, and even when we got to Mount Veil, you were playing a part.” Bree shrugged. “Like every other movie we’ve made together, you were acting. The scenery was different, and the drama on set was far scarier—”

“Except for the torture barn.”

“Yes, that was horrifying. Anyway, you were playing the role of actress number one, director and coproducer number two. At times, it didn’t feel like a documentary. It felt like you were going through the motions.”

River tried hard not to be insulted by that. “I care about this project, Bree.”

“I know, but it’s like muscle memory. You’re so used to going through the motions, you didn’t know how not to do so. But when we started to climb, you stopped playing a part. You were you. The footage we got then was better than anything I’ve ever filmed before.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

“We’ve been keeping this documentary close to the cuff. No one knew we were up here. But that picture of you and him…it’s getting attention. People didn’t even know you and Sweeny had broken up. And now you’re with some sexy Alaskan hunk in a hospital bed? This could drum up the kind of publicity that would really help the documentary be a success.”

River couldn’t see her own face, but she must have not looked happy.

Bree set the remote down next to River’s hand. “Or not. It was just an idea. Either way, someone is going to have to say or do something. Jessie’s talking to the hospital staff on how to manage things, but I think you need some backup.”

Bree handed River her cell phone.

“Why?” But River already knew the answer.

“Because the paparazzi love a great story. And there’s a shit ton of them outside.”

Chapter 19

   “I’m going to kill them.”

“You can’t kill them, buddy. With that many cameras, someone would catch us, and you know what would happen then. I’m too pretty for jail. It wouldn’t go well for me.”