They did? They should have done the decent thing and told Reena. “Can we not talk about our personal life right now? What are we going to do for our next video?”

“Our video.” Shayne smirked. “So now it’s our video, when before it was just yours … says the girl who didn’t want a boy toy.”

Marley frowned at Shayne. “Ignore him. Shayne’s a little salty today. Anderson dumped him. He said everything was too intense.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Shayne. That sucks.”

Shayne glared at Marley. “We are not talking about me right now. What’s the theme for the rest of the videos?”

Reena shrugged. “Round two is Farm-to-Table at Home. If we get past that one—”

“When we get past that one,” Nadim interrupted.

“Fine. When we get past that one, round three is the one at the FoodTV studios. Theme is family picnics. I think we’re supposed to be grilling for that. Then the final one, if we’re still there, is back at our home—but they send a professional camera crew. Theme is Celebrations at Home. I think with the timing they want us to do a Thanksgiving meal, but really any celebration meal would work.”

Nadim frowned. “Isn’t Thanksgiving in November?”

“That’s American Thanksgiving,” Marley explained. “In Canada, Thanksgiving is early October.”

Nadim shook his head. “You Canadians are always doing things your own way.”

Shayne nodded, clearly deep in thought. “Okay, farm-to-table … hmmm … oh, I have an idea! We could film you at a big farmers’ market or something. I hear they have them in the city now. You could pick up ingredients and bring them home and make a meal with them. We can even speak to a farmer.” He beamed with pride.

Reena raised one brow. “A farmers’ market? Really?”

“Sure! It’s original.”

Marley laughed. “Farmers’ markets are hardly original these days.”

Reena nodded. “I can pretty much guarantee that everyone will do the farmers’ market, then cook-at-home thing.”

“We need to wow them,” Nadim said, inching even closer to Reena. “What if we made your table look like a farm. You know, scarecrows and hay bales and stuff.”

“That’s terrible,” Marley said, looking around Reena’s knockoff modern furniture. “I am not putting Reena in overalls. She’s way too city.”

Reena grinned, the start of an idea forming. “What if we take this city girl to a real farm?”

Shayne cringed. “What farm? You going to drag us all to one of those U-pick places with the big MDF pumpkins with holes to stick your head in for pictures?”

Reena smirked. “Hell no. Amira’s boyfriend’s parents have a hobby farm about an hour and a half away.”

“And they’d let us film there?”

“Yeah, I think they would. They just offered me some fresh eggs and goat milk. I’ve seen pictures of the place on Amira’s social, wait.”

She queued up some pictures from Instagram of her friend feeding the chickens and goats. The spot looked utterly adorable and perfectly hipster-chic, with weathered wood animal pens, rolling hills, and straw-colored fields in the distance. Amira was, of course, feeding the chickens in a pencil skirt. A denim one, but still.