I thought through the footage we’d gathered since boarding. “Not the full film, but I could put together a kick-ass trailer.”

“I need something concrete for the board. Numbers.”

“What kind of numbers?” I asked, hating that, as usual, Brandon’s pound of flesh might be more than I could give.

“You have six days until the live expo?”

“Yeah. Three more days at sea, and then two days to practice.”

“How long to cut the trailer?”

My mind scrambled, calculating who we had on board. “At least a day.”

“That leaves you five days to get a million hits.”

I damn near choked on air. “That’s impossible.”

“Every pop star pulls it off fairly quickly.”

“Right, well, I’ll let you know when we have Adele jumping a motocross bike, okay? Shit like that is harder than it sounds.”

“I know exactly how hard it is. And I’m talking legit views, Paxton. Not paid subscriber crap.”

“How would you even—?”

“You’re my little brother. No matter what happens between us at home, out here we’re on the same team. I know exactly what it takes to make your business go. I want you to succeed. I just don’t want you taking Wilder Enterprises down while you’re doing it. You hit one million views by the time you take the stage at the live expo, or the board will vote to yank your funding. Hell, even with the million hits, they might vote to yank it.”

“Fucking great,” I said. The six—or seven—shots hadn’t been nearly enough.

“It will be.” He slapped me on the back. “Good luck. I think you might need it.”

I stayed out there long after he left, mentally going over what footage we had, what would be sensational enough to warrant getting one million views. At least we had the jump footage, but what would make the best highlight reel?

I came back inside, flopping onto the couch, my head telling me I was still moving long after I stopped.

“What did the grim reaper want?”

“We have to edit a trailer in the next twenty-four hours and hit a million views before the live expo in Abu Dhabi.”

“Or we could call up Santa Claus and have him deliver early. I mean, we’re only five weeks or so out, right?”

I grunted in response, my mind trying to fight through the haze of alcohol to function.

“I guess you’re right, most of the people around us are just waiting to watch us fall,” he said, pouring another shot.

It was the same thing I said to Leah, ironically as I was falling…for her.

Falling.

“Wake up Bobby and tell him to get the production crew in here,” I ordered.

“Pax, you’re pretty drunk. Do you think this is the time to call a production meeting?”

“With this kind of idea? If this works, we’ll serve shots at the production meetings,” I answered as Penna came in with a suitcase. I’d almost forgotten how much she and Rachel hadn’t gotten along.

“Were you going to tell me?” she snapped at me, tossing her bag on the floor.

“What?” Landon asked.

“Oh, Leah’s roommate showed up a week early, so I’m back in here with the boys,” she answered.

“It’s okay,” I said to her. “I think I’ve figured out how to get Leah back.”

It might cost me my documentary, but it would be worth it.

She was worth everything.

Chapter Thirty

Leah

Abu Dhabi

“Fuck, could it be any hotter here?” Rachel asked as she fanned herself on the deck.

“You know Landon can see you out there,” I said through the open door.

“He’s at the expo site, practicing with Wilder,” she answered.

“How do you even know that?” I asked as I packed up my books from this trimester. Our last final had been this morning, and I’d actually managed to keep my attention on the test instead of on Paxton sitting next to me. English and our verbal examinations and defense of our thesis hadn’t been so easy. Especially not when Paxton stood in front of me and answered the class’s interrogation on his thesis on the theory of love and redemption in Les Miserables. It was like he’d directed every answer at me.

“I may have paid off Hugo to let me know,” Rachel responded, reminding me that I’d asked her a question.

“Well, if that wasn’t slightly unethical. You’ve been here three days and you’ve got the staff on payroll?” I finished as I leaned on the doorframe.

She shrugged.

“Do you want to talk about him? Landon?” I clarified.

“I’d rather rebreak every bone I’ve ever mangled. It would probably feel the same.” She pulled her sunglasses down and dismissed the topic like only Rachel could. “So, have you seen this trailer?”

“What trailer?” I asked.

“I guess they cut a trailer for the documentary, and they’re trying to get it to a million hits before the expo tomorrow.”

“Oh.” I hated being out of the Renegade loop as much as I desperately needed the space. “No. I haven’t seen it. I promised Penna I’d go over and watch the rehearsal, though. I’m guessing you don’t want to go?”

“No, thank you. How are you doing with all this? I mean, you’ve been swamped with finals, and I know you love to hide under schoolwork, but really?”