Chapter 2
The production team was lightning fast. In just half an hour, cameras were set up all over the farm.
Carter was given the room he used to live in as a kid.
It hadn't seen anyone for a decade, just an old wooden bed and a desk, both caked in dust.
He was joined by Nora Ellington, the most popular sweetheart actress on the scene right now.
As soon as she stepped inside, she let out a dramatic scream. "Seriously, who could live in here? Carter, want to trade rooms with me? Mine's tiny, but at least it's clean."
As she spoke, she tried to grab Carter's arm.
Carter instinctively sidestepped, his brows knitting together.
Nora's hand hung awkwardly in the air, her face falling in embarrassment.
[Nora's at it again. She's been sticking to Carter like glue ever since we got on the plane.]
[No doubt she bought her way onto the show, just here to leech off his popularity. Ugh, so annoying.]
[Guys, I just got some inside scoop. She didn't just buy her way. She's actually a plant from Carter's rival company, sent here to mess up his reputation.]
I was just about to wipe down the table when I heard that, and my hand froze mid-motion.
When I saw Carter ignore her, Nora's eyes darted around before she locked onto me.
She strutted over in her high heels, pinching her nose with a look of pure disgust.
"Tessa, this farm is seriously a mess. You knew celebrities were coming. Couldn't you at least clean up a little? Carter's basically royalty, you know. How could you expect him to stay in a dump like this?"
Her voice was just loud enough for the mics to catch every word, making sure everyone heard her.
She was obviously trying to make me look bad and paint Carter as some pampered prince for the cameras.
Back in my previous life, hearing stuff like that would've just made me think Carter really was ruined by all that outside attention, and I'd have disliked him even more.
But now, she was just plain irritating.
I ignored her and walked straight over to Carter's bed, yanked off the yellowed sheets, and flung them to the floor, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Then I grabbed a fresh set of bedding from the closet and spread it out on the bed.
The quilt had that warm, sun-dried scent.
I'd just aired it out a few days ago, thinking I'd use it myself this winter. It was funny how things turned out.
Once I was done, I glanced at Carter, who was still standing there like a statue, my voice as flat as ever.
"Bed's done. The floor and table are your problem. If it's too much for you, the door's right there," I said.
Carter acted like he hadn't heard me at all, his eyes locked onto the new blanket.
His beautiful eyes flickered with emotion like shock, confusion, and a trace of vulnerability that I just couldn't decipher.
[Holy crap. What is even happening right now? After ten years of no contact, his mom is actually fixing up his bed?]
[Wait, am I seeing this right? Isn't that bear print the same blanket Carter loved when he was little?]
[I'm losing it, everyone. His mom never stopped caring; she remembers every single thing.]
The live chat was flooding the screen.
That was when I finally noticed the adorable little brown bears printed all over the blanket.
I'd sewn this myself back when his dad was still alive. Carter treasured it so much that even after he got too big for it, he just couldn't bear to throw it away.
The day I sent him off to boarding school, he wanted to take it with him, but I wouldn't let him.
I said, "Come on, you're way too old for something this childish. It's embarrassing."
His eyes went red on the spot.
No one would've thought the blanket I grabbed without a second thought was packed with memories I'd almost forgotten.
That familiar ache tightened in my chest all over again.
Nora saw that both Carter and I were ignoring her, so she stomped her foot, huffed, and turned to leave.
Carter finally came back to himself. He picked up the broom from the corner and quietly started sweeping.
His movements were a bit awkward, but he was totally focused on the task.
Later that afternoon, the production team announced the first task, and that was fixing up the collapsed fence on the west side of the farm.
That was hands down the toughest job on the whole farm.
Carter didn't hesitate. He just grabbed the tools and headed out.
Nora, tottering along in her high heels and shading herself with a parasol, trailed after him, her voice sugary sweet. "Carter, why should you be stuck with this kind of grunt work? Just let the crew hire some workers, problem solved."
Carter ignored her, walked straight up to the fence, and started hefting those heavy wooden stakes like it was nothing.
The way he moved, so practiced and sure, it was obvious he'd done this kind of work a hundred times before.
Sunlight glinted off the sweat rolling down his chiseled jawline, each drop falling straight into the dirt below.
I caught a glimpse of his hands.
Those were long, slender hands with defined knuckles, hands that looked like they belonged on piano keys.
But now, his palms were a patchwork of fresh and faded scars, layered with rough calluses, exactly like the chat had pointed out.
My heart felt like it'd been dunked in scalding, bitter brew, aching and sour, the pain lingering.
Just then, Nora shrieked out loud.
She lost her footing and tumbled straight toward a heap of razor-sharp stakes.