River blinked, utterly unprepared for the reaction of the Tourist Trap’s cook when she and her crew walked in the door. Handsome enough to attract his own level of attention and large enough not to look diminutive next Easton—who was leaning against the bar to talk to him. The cook’s vigorous head shake took River aback.

“Excuse me?” she asked, looking between him and Easton.

Their guide had left the park before they had, the gear check completed and everyone signed off as safe to climb. The restaurant was packed, and finding parking had been a nightmare. The only reason they weren’t still outside circling the lot was she had noticed Easton’s truck behind the building in the employees-only section and parked next to him.

“It’s on the sign,” the cook said, pointing to the dry erase board behind him. Sure enough, it read ‘No film crews allowed.’ “I have the right to refuse service to anyone I deem a threat to my other customers.”

“Graham, don’t be a bully.”

Graham the mayor? No, it couldn’t be.

A short, slender woman with delicate glasses perched on her nose was seated on a stool at Easton’s side. She leaned over and said something to Graham, earning a loud and long-suffering sigh from the cook. Everyone was watching, making River’s blood boil.

“I’m not a bully, Zoey Bear. I’m protecting my establishment and my employees from being harassed by a media outlet.”

Zoey aimed a firm look at him. “You’re the only employee. And you’re the only one harassing people.”

“Okay, fine,” Graham said, king of his tiny domain of processed meats. “But don’t blame me if their food is lukewarm and barely edible.”

“I was under the assumption it always is,” River shot back. “Are you usually this rude to your customers?”

An amused look was his only response. “Only the ones I don’t want.”

Before River could reply, Bree grabbed her arm, looking around excitedly. “This is how it’s supposed to be here. Didn’t you read the reviews? It’s one of those places where they deliberately insult the customers.”

“Can we hasten along the hazing of the new people and get to the fries?” Jessie’s voice had taken on a whine. “I’m starving.”

“I want a Growly Bear.” Bree held up her phone. “The review site says we can’t leave without one.”

“It’s a bad idea.” Shaking her head at a picture of a very inebriated individual holding up a bright blue drink, River added, “We have work to do. We can celebrate after the shoot is over.”

Graham winked at River, as if she and he weren’t becoming mortal enemies then and there. “You run a tight ship, Captain. Come on. A Growly Bear makes everyone feel better.”