Free Always Summer by Nikki Godwin

call them. Jace is crazy.”
    I don’t dare tell him, but I can see both
sides of the issue. A.J. is Drenaline Surf’s store manager. He
needs to be the professional I know he can be and just make the
call. But on the flip side, he’s my best friend and his safe haven
was destroyed to make way for a hotel. I totally understand his
unwillingness to call them and make business deals.
    “They’re the only ones willing to partner
with us right now,” I tell him. “With all of tabloid crap, people
are skeptical. They don’t want to promise something we can’t
deliver, and seeing Miles on crutches and Colby’s parents on TV
really puts a few dents in the plan.”
    Alston takes the bread out of the oven while
Reed douses the noodles with spaghetti sauce. They humor me with
their ease of continuing dinner without a second thought to A.J.’s
outburst in the kitchen, right in between them.
    A.J. shakes his head. “They tore down my
carnival,” he says, a hint of desperation in his voice. “That place
was my home. And now there’s a big ass white hotel there with a
zillion fucking flower beds because they’re the Florence Gardens
Inn. They took my house of mirrors for flower gardens.”
    But Florence Gardens Inn is the newest
establishment in Crescent Cove. They’re looking to build business.
They want epic deals that hotel guests can’t ignore. Why stay at
the Crescent Inn when you can get a package deal with specials from
Drenaline Surf and Strickland’s Boating? I mean, I’d stay
there…without telling A.J.
    “Dude, I’ll call if you’ll shut up,” Alston
says. He bites into a piece of bread that he’s impatiently waited
for. “I’m pretending to be you, though.”
    “You still have to go to the meeting,” I
tell A.J. “If they agree to meet with us and sign a contract,
you’re going to fake it like the rest of us.”
    I may just manage the surfers’ careers, but
I refuse to let A.J. fail out of holding a grudge. I don’t like it
either, because of A.J., but Vin gave him an opportunity to lose
the stereotype and make something of himself, and I’ll be damned if
he fails.
     
    The next morning, Alston has formally
arranged for a meeting with Florence Gardens Inn. Unfortunately,
he’s not going with us because he’s under the command of Emily and
her super training skills. Hopefully, between Jace and me, A.J. can
be somewhat reined in.
    I watch Alston ring up the next sale while
Emily digs around in the inventory for new surfboard leashes. They
seem to have it under control. I wonder if I can slip A.J. away for
a while to prep him for the meeting tomorrow. Maybe we can grab
Reed for lunch and have him play the part of the hotel manager.
A.J. needs a practice run so desperately.
    I turn to A.J. to suggest a trial run, but
the bell dings over the door, drawing my attention back to the
center of the room. Topher has newspapers in his hand. Miles is
booking it on his crutches to keep up with Topher’s pace. I’m
actually impressed at his speed.
    “So, we sort of have more problems,” Topher
says, actually laughing through it. “It’s crazy. Like totally
ridiculous.”
    He slides the newspaper over the counter. A
photo of us from the seahorse celebration is on the front page. I
catch the words ‘cult’ and ‘public relations’ before I shove the
paper away. My hands literally shake with nervousness about what’s
being said. I can’t even read it.
    “I can’t,” I say, stepping back toward A.J.,
who braces my unsteadiness. “What is this?”
    Alston grabs the paper before Emily can and
skims the article. “It says Drenaline Surf is an incest-ridden
cult,” he says.
    He doesn’t crack a smile. If anything, he
looks disgusted and confused.
    “It talks about how you dated Vin and now
you’re with Topher,” Alston continues. “And that you work for
Drenaline Surf, ‘keeping it in the family’ as they put it. It
mentions Emily and Miles too. People are actually calling you