“Freddie!” The crew of people all said in unison as he approached. Baskets of croissants, tarts, and muffins sat on a folding table next to three industrial-sized coffee pots. “Is there anything left at the cafe?” Freddie joked as he grabbed a mug.

  “Megan just wants this done,” Josh smiled. “She would’ve put on a twelve-course dinner if it meant she wouldn’t have to listen to a leaky roof for one more night.” Megan co-owned the Sugar Peaks Café and clearly knew how to cater to a group of hungry workers.

  “Don’t worry, the beer keg is coming out at noon,” Josh grinned and elbowed Freddie, “Although you’re looking pretty rough.” Josh looked Freddie up and down.

  “And smelling pretty ripe.” Freddie turned to see his older brother, Logan. “How was your big date?” Logan asked. He was carrying two bundles of shingles on his shoulder and headed to the ladder.

  “Let’s just say there isn’t going to be a date number two,” Freddie grumbled.

  “That’s probably a good thing,” Logan said, then leaned in to whisper, “Those models are lazy in bed,” he said before ambling up the ladder like a billy goat.

  “Is Mike coming over today?” Freddie asked Josh. Mike was the lone tow truck driver in town, and also a friend of theirs.

  “He’s already up on the roof.” Josh pointed into the bright eye-piercing sky.

  “Thanks,” Freddie said and squinted. He buckled his well-worn leather tool belt around his canvas work pants and set to climbing the ladder. He got a good whiff of his body odor and recoiled as a combination of alcohol and onions met his nose.

  Freddie wasn’t in the mood for working, or for answering questions about his date with Serena. The only thing on his mind was his truck and his couch.

  His attitude lifted as the day progressed. Sweating in the hot summer sun was likely detoxing him faster than a lazy day watching movies. When the coffee carafes were traded in for beer kegs, it turned out that the hair of the dog was the key to what ailed him. He could feel the life coming back to his body, and with it, the stress of his impending truck repairs seemed to lift as well. He would figure it out. He always figured it out.

  With the large crew, Josh’s roof was completed early in the afternoon. The Search and Rescue Volunteers were hard workers, and most of Josh’s other friends were local contractors. Megan had picked red shingles, and while most of the crew muttered about the color, when it was done, the little white bungalow with the red roof looked like something out of a magazine. The group of men sat tired and dirty at a picnic table in the back yard, admiring their work.

  Mike, the tow truck driver, had a young family; he stuck around for one drink then brushed his hands and stood up to leave. “Where do you want your truck towed?” he asked Freddie.

  “I was thinking about the G-Spot, give Hank some business.”

  Mike nodded. “Let me give him a call, see if he can fit you in.” Mike proceeded to make the call, told Hank what was going on, nodded a couple of times and then set down his phone. “If we go now, Hank will be at the shop and can give you an estimate.”

  Freddie looked around, his friends were laughing and having fun, the last thing he wanted was to leave the party when it was just getting started, but his truck was his business, and as much as he hated to admit it, right now he needed to be a grownup. “Alright, let’s go.”

  * * *

  Bang. Bang. Bang. The sharp raps on the door startled Freddie out of sleep. His eyes snapped open and the notepad on his chest slipped to the floor as he bolted upright. The sun had set, and the blue glow of twilight barely lit his living room enough for him to make his way to the door.

  “Hey,” he said as he opened the door for his brother. He turned and shuffled back to the couch. Logan followed and sat in the leather armchair.

  “What, you’re not going to offer me a drink?” Logan smiled.

  Freddie grunted. “You know where they are.”

  “Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?” Logan reclined back in the chair and put his big feet on the coffee table.

  “I’ve just had a rough day,” Freddie replied. He clicked on a lamp and shut off the giant TV.

  “We didn’t get a chance to talk today. The model wasn’t everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” Logan stood up. “Maybe I will get a drink. Want one?”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “Now I know that there’s something wrong with you,” Logan said, as he returned to the living room, twisting the cap off a beer. “The date was that bad?”

  “Oh, fuck. That’s the least of my problems. My truck died today.”

  “Hank can’t fix it?”

  “He can, but it’s going to cost an arm and a leg,” Freddie muttered.

  “It’s just a truck. Kid, I can loan you the money.”

  “Thanks, Logan, but I don’t want to rely on my rich brother.” He rubbed his temples, “Man, I finally felt like I was getting ahead, this Windswan job is going to be huge.”

  “What are you going to do then?” Logan asked.

  Freddie pulled the yellow lined notepad off the table. Figures were scribbled across the page, added up, and crossed out. “I’m trying to figure that out. Logan, I can do it on my own.”

  “Okay, Freddie,” Logan smiled at him. “I know that your business has been doing well. Maybe you can talk to Sheila at the bank and get a loan. If not, we can work something out.”

  “I’m going to do that as soon as the bank opens tomorrow,” Freddie smiled and pointed to the notes where ‘talk to Sheila’ was circled. He hated the idea of borrowing money from his brother. Logan had been the good brother, the big hockey star, the successful one. Freddie had always been a disappointment. He was the class clown, the daredevil kid that lived on the edge, the one that never left town and lived paycheck to paycheck. Logan was taking care of their mom. It wasn’t his job to bankroll the whole family. No, Freddie was going to figure this out on his own.

  “You know what’s weird?” Freddie said.

  “What’s that?” Logan asked.

  “That girl, Serena, she’s beautiful, right? But there’s nothing else to her. It made her not so hot.”

  Logan laughed. “Are you saying you’re not as shallow as we all think?”

  Freddie tossed a cushion at Logan. “I mean, she might’ve been fun for one night in the sack, but that’s all.”

  “Our little boy is growing up.” Logan finished off his beer and stood up.

  “Shut it, Logan. Until Charlotte, all you did was bang models.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Logan said. “Too bad about Serena, but I didn’t have high hopes for you and her. You will know it when you meet the right woman.”

  Freddie grunted. He lived in Chance Rapids, where he knew every single person. All of the good women were married or moved away years ago. He thought that he didn’t care, but when he saw his best friend get married and his brother re-connect with his first love, he started to wonder if there was something missing from his life. “See ya, Logan.”

  “Bye, Fred.” Logan left the house, shutting the door quietly behind him.

  Freddie stared at his reflection in the TV, his hair was standing straight up, and even in the monotone reflection, he could see that he looked terrible. He pulled himself up off the couch, shuffled to the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as he could get it.

  Get yourself together man.

  His phone chimed with an incoming text message as he was washing his hair. By the time he finished his shower and toweled off he had totally forgotten about it. He pulled on his comfy flannel pants and crawled into bed.

  If he had looked at his phone, he would’ve seen the messages.

  Call me ASAP.

  From Serena.

  Six

  Serena’s eyes shot open and she reached under the pillow for her phone. She had sent Freddie the text messages twelve hours ago and he still hadn’t responded. She rolled her eyes and flopped back down on her pillow.

  She pulled on her yoga pants and sports bra, raked her hand through her hair to wrap it into a messy ponytail and headed out the door. She selected her running playlist and checked the time, 6:07 a.m. She would give Freddie until 8 but needed to keep her mind occupied, and running was the only thing that let her escape from her thoughts. Sadly, even the hard cardio couldn’t keep her racing brain at bay.

  The money could pay for the experimental treatment for her dad, it could change everything.

  Serena had recovered from the car crash that killed her mom and sister, but her dad hadn’t fared so well. That day on the snowy roads had changed all of their lives. Serena stopped at the shore of the river and snapped a photo of herself with the candy floss colored sunrise filtering through her blonde hair.

  Her phone rang and she jumped with a start. Nobody called her. She looked down at her screen and saw a Chance Rapids number. Freddie. Finally.

  She knew that her behavior the night of the premiere had been abysmal, so she was somewhat surprised that he had called her back. She wanted to explain to him that she had been nervous, that a perfect performance at the premiere could lead to lucrative sponsorship opportunities that could change her life and her dad’s, forever. He had done a good job. He looked cute in the photos and let her shine. She should’ve been nicer to him.

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “It’s Freddie.”

  She knew exactly who it was. “Hi, Freddie. Thanks for calling me back.”

  “Your message said that it was urgent.”

  “It is.”

  “Well, I’m heading to a job right now--”

  “It sounds like you’re walking,” she said.

  The was a slight pause, “I am. It’s a long story. Look, Serena. I’m going to cut to the chase. What do you want?”

  “Did you see the entertainment channel’s picture of us?”

  “No.”

  His voice was cold and flat. This wasn’t going well. “I’m going to send it to you.” She pulled up the photo and texted it to Freddie. She heard the buzz from his phone as he received the text. She wanted to see the look on his face when he saw the picture because the photo was absolutely stunning. His steely model-like gaze penetrated the lens while he shielded Serena from the cameraman. Her dress whipped in the wind, revealing her perfectly toned legs while the skirt snaked around Freddie’s legs, and the ‘Get Electrified,’ slogan glowed vibrantly in the background. The caption read, “Serena Cruise steps out with unidentified electrician.”

  Freddie grunted. “That’s a nice picture. How did they know I’m an electrician?”

  Serena bit her lip. “I’m not sure.” She wasn’t sure if he was being facetious, the truck and logo practically stole the show in the shot.

  “Is this the big emergency? A picture?”

  “Freddie, this picture has gone viral and the right people have seen it.”

  “That’s nice.”

  She was losing him.

  “Freddie. The right people saw the photo and I’ve been offered an amazing deal.”

  “Well, congratulations.”

  “No, Freddie. It involves you. I need you.”

  Serena’s running shoes crunched on the gravel pathway as she walked alongside the river.

  “You need me? For what? To hold your purse and stand in the background all night?”

  Shit. She hadn’t thought about it like that and needed to get to the point. There was no way he was going to agree to her scheme if he didn’t know the enormity of the offer.

  “Have you heard of the diamond company, Sidney’s?”

  “Nope.”

  She pursed her lips, then continued, “They saw our picture and want us to represent their brand.”

  “Diamonds? I think you’re on your own with that one.”

  Serena sighed. He didn’t get it. “Freddie. Sidney’s is looking for couples about to get engaged. They may have assumed that you and I are, um, more serious than we are.”

  She thought that she heard Freddie choke on the other end. “That’s the understatement of the century. We’re not getting engaged, we’re not even dating.”

  “Well… This was where Serena’s sales pitch came in, and it needed to be good. “They’ve offered to give us a 3-carat diamond ring, and two hundred thousand dollars.”

  She heard it again, but this time was sure. Freddie choking on whatever he was drinking. “For what?”

  “Freddie, I’ll split it with you. All we have to do is pretend to be engaged for a bit. You know, go pick out cakes and dresses, take some pictures together.”

  “Do we get to keep the money if we fake break up after before we fake get married?”

  “Yes,” Serena gushed. “We are committed to two months of content, photos, videos. You know, that kind of stuff.”

  Serena’s heart was racing, her words tumbling out of her mouth almost faster than she could speak.

  “Thanks for the offer, Serena, but I’m going to pass. I’m sure you’ll be able to find some other guy to play dress-up for you.”

  Serena halted her speed walking as the phone clicked off and the screen went black. Had he just hung up on her? How could he turn down an offer like that?

  She headed back to her loft, peeled off her sweaty clothes and stepped into the piping hot shower. She let the water rush over her shoulders. It had to be him. The viral photo was what attracted Sidney’s diamond company. People love an opposites attract story. Serena had been so embarrassed by Freddie’s truck, but by showing up at a fancy premiere with a gorgeous electrician, she had stepped outside the lines and people were eating it up. It had to be him.

  She got dressed and headed to the hospital to see her dad. She visited him every day, but that’s one thing that she kept private. The world didn’t need to see her comatose father. The doctors told her that her dad, Paul, didn’t know that she was there and that she didn’t need to come and visit for hours a day. But Serena could feel it deep in her bones. He knew she was there.

  Her dad’s body was a shell of what it used to be. He once owned a landscaping company and had been in fantastic shape for his age. After the insurance money petered out, Serena had worked two jobs to pay for Paul’s care. She stumbled onto her social media stardom almost by accident, but now she had several sponsors and was making more money than she ever dreamed possible. She knew that she wasn’t being true to herself, but she didn’t care. Her real self was a daughter, and if that meant selling her soul on social media to get the best care for her dad, she’d do it over and over again in a heartbeat. This money could change everything. She needed to get Freddie on board. But how?

  Seven

  Freddie shivered and felt ridiculous standing on the side of the road with his toolbox. He stuck his thumb out as a transport truck whizzed by, his hair whipping around in the tornado of passing wind. He had done the calculations, if he hitch-hiked to work and only ate noodles, he should be able to scrape up a deposit for his truck repairs.

  Then he felt it, the first fat drop plopped so heavily he thought a bird had shit on his head, then the sky opened up and the rest of the raindrops poured down on him, beating and battering his canvas work coat.

  For fuck’s sake, Freddie cursed to himself as a car passed by, spraying a tidal wave of water from the giant puddle at him. He dodged and dropped his toolbox. “Shit.” The metal latch popped open and his tools scattered along the shoulder of the highway. Freddie looked up to the sky and held his breath to stop from cursing a blue streak. He exhaled slowly, his eyes closed, and then knelt down to gather everything up. He heard a car slow down and pull off the road behind him. It’s about time, he thought. Hitchhiking as a teenager had been much easier, but back then he had been heading to parties, or over to his friend’s houses, not trying to get somewhere on time for work.

  He turned and saw a beat-up sedan, its wipers swiping madly, battling the rain. He jogged up to the steamy passenger side window and as the window rolled down, he was almost overtaken by cigarette smoke. “Need a ride,” Stacy grinned.

  Stacy had gone to high school with his older brother, Logan. She had been the head cheerleader, and Logan’s girlfriend at one point. Now, she looked haggard, textbook smoker’s lines worn deep into her leathery skin.

  “Thanks,” Freddie smiled. Beggars can’t be choosers, he thought to himself as he settled into the passenger seat, his toolbox on his lap.

  “Where are you headed?” Stacy asked, lighting up another cigarette. Freddie waited for her to crack her window, but she didn’t. He reached to crank his window down for a little fresh air.

  “Windswan,” Freddie replied.

  “Cigarette?” Stacy pointed to the pack in the console.

  “I’m good,” Freddie replied. As a teenager, he was an Olympic hopeful, the town’s best skier, so had never taken up smoking. Not even weed.

  “Suit yourself,” she said and pulled the sedan back onto the highway. The classic rock station was playing, and Stacy sang along as she sped along the highway. “Are you working in Windswan?” she asked.

  “What gave it away?” Freddie smiled. He didn’t think that Stacy was a bad person. She had just been dealt a bad hand, a single mother in a small town. When she was sober, she was actually a decent person, but when she was drinking, which was pretty damn often, she turned into someone else altogether, and that person was a total bitch. But this morning, sober Stacy was giving him a ride to work and he was thankful.

  She cackled. “I guess it was the toolbox or the fact that it’s before eight. And you don’t look like you were up all night partying.”

  “I wish I was,” Freddie murmured.

  “You and me both.”

  Freddie caught Stacy giving him sidelong glances, and it wasn’t lost on him when she took off her raincoat and puffed out her cleavage. Freddie’s friendliness was often confused as flirtation. He needed to dial back his smiles before Stacy tackled him and dragged him into the back seat of her Tercel.