“Daddy and I have been in awe over your pictures, Ellie. You’ve sent us some amazing stuff. You went out in the field and camped in freezing temps with those heathens for nights on end. You were born for this.”

“For what?”

“To be a field photographer,” Wick said.

“A what?” I asked, feeling uneasy.

“Daddy is going to hire another assistant.”

“What?” I said, panicking.

Jojo touched my arm. “It’s okay. Your new job with the magazine will pay more.”

“More?”

Her eyes widened. “A lot more. Daddy wants this to be an ongoing feature for the magazine. He wants you to follow the Alpine Hotshots through fire season.”

“But if you hire someone else, then what?”

Jojo rolled her eyes. “Who are we kidding? Daddy isn’t going to find anyone. I’ve been doing it for this long. I can wait until fire season is over. You have to do this, Ellie. It’s going to be amazing.”

“I … don’t know what to say,” I said, both unsettled and flattered.

“Say bye,” Wick said. “I want you back out there starting today. We’ll need a continuing story for next month. We’ve already cleared it with the superintendent. Pack your bags. You’ll be bunking at the Alpine’s dormitory until October.”

“Oh, thank God,” I said, closing my eyes.

I could practically hear Jojo smiling. She had no idea I was going to be kicked out of my parents’ home next month. I had barely saved enough for my cell phone bill, much less a deposit and first month’s rent, even on houses or apartments up to half an hour outside of town. Shadowing the hotshots until October gave me six to seven more months to figure out living arrangements. Even if I was sleeping in a truck or tent most of the time, it was preferable to moving into a shelter.

“We knew you’d be happy! I told you she’d be happy, Daddy.”

“Am I done?” Wick said.

Jojo sighed. “You’re done. Go back to resting your feet on your desk.”

I pulled out my phone and texted Tyler.

Did you hear the news?

Just now. I’m your official babysitter. Pretty pumped.

Thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful. ☺

It took a while for Tyler to respond.

I didn’t send you flowers. I can’t decide if I feel like a dick or if I want to kill whoever sent them.

You didn’t send the flowers?

No. There’s no card?

No.

I wanna know who sent them.

Me, too.

Not for the same reason.

… which is?

I’m having violent thoughts. All I can say.

Quit.

I have a bad temper in general. Sending my gf flowers is not a good idea.

… I am not your gf.

Yet. You’re not my gf yet.