“You keep showing us together.” River shook her head. “The focus of this is all wrong.”

Bree and Jessie shared a look.

“Listen, River, we need to talk. When we were up there, we kind of…” Jessie hesitated, searching for the right word. “Documented.”

“Of course you documented. That’s what you do on a documentary, as you love to remind me.”

“Yes,” Jessie agreed. “But we documented everything.”

Bree put a hand to her ribs, wincing as she leaned into the back of River’s seat. “Show her what we were looking at earlier.”

At Bree’s suggestion, Jessie twisted around and clicked on his keyboard, pulling up a new file. The computer screen was large enough that there was no pretending what she was looking at wasn’t her and Easton, sitting hip to hip at camp, his hand cupping her cheek as he kissed her. The handheld camera filming the moment bobbled slightly, then zoomed in on River taking his hand and tugging Easton to his feet, leading him toward the tent.

“Why are you showing me this?” she asked quietly.

It was beyond cruel.

“Because we thought we were going up there to film about Moose Springs. But every shot, every scene, there’s this stuff.” Jessie pulled up another file, snow blindingly white as they stood high on the southern face of Mount Veil. Easton’s arm around her waist as she took in the vista. Then another file, with River yelling at him for putting himself at risk in the Veil and Easton growling right back.

“It’s you and him.” Jessie shrugged. “Everywhere, every scene. This is a real-life love story, River.”

She shook her head in a curt gesture. “Love stories have happy endings. I hate to break it to you, but I’m here, and he’s back in Moose Springs. Whatever you’re trying to spin this as, it isn’t real. And the Alaskan Tourism Board won’t care that he and I had a fling. They care about bringing more visitors to Moose Springs.”

“Actually, it’s the most real you’ve ever been. Look at him, watching you do your interview. He can’t take his eyes off you. And you fronted the bill on this. Your only contracts right now are with us. No one’s successfully made a film about Moose Springs. Maybe you’re one more.”

“And the alternate option is?” River really didn’t like where this was going.

“We turn this into the indie film it deserves to be.” Jessie rarely sounded this calm when discussing his work, which meant he was trying to sell her on what he wanted. By the look of excitement on Bree’s face, River knew he wasn’t the only one.

Bree leaned forward and clicked to another file, labeled “summit.” Easton had placed the camera down and joined her on the very peak of the mountain.