Reel Love - Softcover

Woolridge, Addie

 
9780593899311: Reel Love
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0593899318 ISBN 13: 9780593899311
Verlag: Random House Children's Books, 2025

Inhaltsangabe

Two teens must keep their working--and romantic-- relationship a secret from their grandmas, who are longtime social media rivals, in this hilariously sweet rom com from the author of The Homecoming War.

Jamie Webb is happy to be the camera-shy brains behind her grandmother BamBam’s social media stardom—especially if it makes college admissions officers notice her. But with BamBam’s antics, creating content isn’t easy. Going to an influencers convention in Las Vegas is just what Jamie needs to relax and get inspired.

Well, it is before BamBam learns that Buzzy Timmons, her archnemesis and fellow granfluencer, is also attending—along with her influencer grandson, Ethan. No matter how cute Ethan is, Jamie refuses to hang out with the enemy . . . until she learns about a cash prize for best tourism video. A prize Ethan can help her win.

Exploring Vegas with Ethan turns out to be more fun and flirty than Jamie expects. But without BamBam’s blessing, can they ever have anything real?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Born and raised outside Seattle, Washington, Addie Woolridge is a classically trained opera singer with a degree in music from the University of Southern California, and she holds a master’s degree in public administration from Indiana University. Woolridge currently lives in Northern California. She is the author of The Homecoming War.

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CHAPTER ONE

“Please, don’t freak out.”

“They can’t sit near us.” BamBam’s voice echoed through the entire airport terminal, drowning out my whispered plea for calm.

“It’s not a big deal, Bam--” I caught my grandma’s warning look and switched to her Public Grandma Name, hoping it would magically make her less inclined to turn into a cartoon villain. “Mini, it’s not like she’s sitting next to you.”

“How do you know that?” BamBam growled.

I glanced down at my shoes, unsure if this was a real inquiry or one of my grandma’s world-famous rhetorical questions, designed to get you in trouble. BamBam was a lot of things: a popular #Granfluencer, expert in all things over-fifty fashion and beauty, Chicago area reigning pai gow poker champion, and my biggest fan. What she wasn’t was patient. BamBam suffered fools with about as much grace as a panda in a packed space. After a beat, I decided to take a risk and answer the question. “Statistical probability. There will be hundreds of people on this plane. That, and I’m already in the middle seat.”

“Probability, my foot.” BamBam used her I’m-in-public curse, then snatched up her purse and grabbed the handle of her roller bag. “Out of all the flights leaving Chicago O’Hare, of course she would choose mine.”

So much for calming her down. Exhaling slowly, I tried not to notice that people were staring. More specifically, the two people who had just gotten off the moving walkway. I could almost feel Buzzy Timmons’s eyes burning into me as I hurried to keep up with my grandma.

“Jamie, come here, please. This nice young person needs to see your ticket.” I walked the last few feet over to where BamBam stood laying on the charm with the airline attendant, her slight Alabama accent thick as honey when she was trying to get her way. BamBam winked and smiled at the haggard gate agent as I held out my phone for them to see my boarding pass. “Isn’t it lovely? We were able to upgrade our tickets to first class. This young person is giving us a deal, too. And while you can’t have champagne, you know I’ll have a glass.”

“I think my mama would be disappointed in me if I didn’t give Ms. Mini the very best.” The gate agent smiled.

“Well, Jamie here will have to take a picture of us. You can text it to your mama when we’re done. And you tell her hi from me.” BamBam laughed, and I almost groaned. Of course someone at the airline would be a fan of Ms. Mini’s Makeup Counter. While they chatted, I peered over my shoulder toward the source of our problems.

Buzzy Timmons, sworn enemy of my grandma and a fellow #Granfluencer from Chicago, was engaged in what looked like the same not-that-woman process with her grandson, albeit in a more passive-aggressive fashion. Her gray hair was pulled back by a large fabric bow as she furiously pecked at her phone with one finger. Her coral-colored sweater was wrapped around her shoulders like she was a country-club tennis pro, perfectly matching the suitcase set that her grandson, Ethan, was trying to drag off the walkway toward a row of seats far away from us. I couldn’t see much of him from where I stood, but he seemed different from the last time we’d crossed paths. Taller, maybe?

Buzzy’s expression grew pleased, and she said something I couldn’t make out; then both of them turned in our direction. My whole face got hot as my eyes shot down to inspect the carpet. I was praying they hadn’t caught me staring. Not that I was staring. I totally wasn’t. More like trying to memorize what this grown-up Ethan looked like for self-preservation purposes. I hadn’t seen him in at least three years. Back then, he’d been almost the same height as me and skinny, with a close-cropped haircut. If he and Buzzy were going to be at TrendCon this week, I needed to know who to steer clear of or risk getting caught in the cross fire. That was the only reason I was looking. Obviously.

“Jamie, can you take a picture for us?” BamBam’s voice rang out as if she were making a flight announcement for the terminal.

“Um . . . sure,” I said, hoping the color had left my cheeks. Stepping forward, I took the gate attendant’s phone and began snapping photos, changing my angle slightly to crop other people out of the picture and mitigate the shine coming from the fluorescent lighting. I could tell BamBam was getting impatient, but she’d be grateful later when this person, or their mom, posted these online.

“And maybe a quick video? You could say that line? My mom thinks it’s so funny. She is always quoting you,” the gate attendant said.

“Of course, honey. What’s your mama’s name?”

“Sherry.”

“Got it.” BamBam nodded at me, and I quickly switched the phone to video, then gave her a thumbs-up so she knew I was ready to record. Pulling her shoulders back, BamBam winked at the camera, then said, “Sherry, I’m here with your baby, and I heard you’re a fan. Real Bad Mama Jamas recognize each other. We’ve both been fine since your kid was in pajamas. Stay bad, Sherry.” BamBam blew the phone a kiss as she delivered her signature catchphrase Stay Bad, then laughed as I cut the video off.

“Here you go.” I adjusted my baseball cap and pushed my long braid over my shoulder before handing the phone back to the gate agent. “Hopefully, one of those pictures will work.”

“Oh, they will,” BamBam crooned. “Jamie doesn’t like when I brag, but she is very good with cameras.”

“Well, thank you,” the gate agent said, waving the phone in my general direction. “Ms. Mini, you just sit right there until we start calling first class to board.”

“Thank you,” BamBam said, honey still coating her words. Winking at me, she tilted her chin up, then began strutting toward an open chair. Once we were out of earshot, she whispered, “That two-bit, wannabe-me, knockoff Buzzy can enjoy herself at the back of the plane. We’re getting leg room.”

While BamBam cackled over her victory, I glanced back at Buzzy and Ethan. Buzzy was grinning at Ethan and holding on to his arm as they walked toward where he’d stashed their carry-on suitcases. I wondered if he still had freckles or if he’d outgrown them . . .

Not that I needed that information. I gave my head a little shake. BamBam had her reading glasses on and mini-keyboard out. Her phone screen was blown up, so I could see her answering fan questions on her most recent video, about removing makeup stains from white shirts without bleach.

Without glancing up, BamBam asked, “So did you look at that list I sent you? What’d you think?”

BamBam had recently decided it was time for her to reach a younger audience. As she put it, there was more money in marketing to young people without money than there was in marketing to women over fifty who got money.’ When she’d been invited to be on the Silver Influencers panel at TrendCon, the biggest content creator’s convention of the year, she’d taken it as a sign that it was time to start collaborating with more beauty influencers who were closer to my age. In true BamBam fashion, she’d spent the week before the con studying the videos of younger beauty creators and whittling her top-tier “to work with” list down to six names. One of them, Sterling James, was also a Chicago-based influencer. If only he...

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Verlag
Random House Children's Books
Erscheinungsdatum
2025
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0593899318
ISBN 13 
9780593899311
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
337
Kontakt zum Hersteller
preigu GmbH & Co. KG
mail@preigu.de

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