By the end of the next day, I had a new-to-me, year-old, bright blue SUV. Thankfully, the car payment was manageable, courtesy of a bit of name-dropping to my new friends at CarMart Motors. I hadn't heard another peep from West Adler, not even when I texted him a picture of my new ride.

So much for making it up to me.

Crushing on someone is exhausting work, and after three days of feverishly checking my phone, only to be devastated over and over again, I decided to lay down my torch and put West Adler out of my mind. It was easier in thought than in practice, but I had a lot to keep me busy.

All day Wednesday was spent watching every live video I could find in our industry and cataloging them by their number of views, likes, and comments. Then I studied them to figure out why some had more traffic than others. What I found was surprising.

The videos with the poorest quality by industry standards performed the best. Jana Carter's Q and A session had been filmed on a cell-phone camera at the star's kitchen table. She was wearing polka-dot pajamas and slurping coffee from a mug that said "World's Okayest Singer" in big, black letters. She posted a link in the comments section to buy the mug online, but the store was sold out and was showing it had 412 backorders. There was a disclaimer in the description: Thank you, Jana Carter, for loving our mugs. We are fulfilling orders as quickly as possible. We appreciate your patience.

By Friday, I had completely rewritten Jake's release marketing plan to include live-streaming video, and I was a little excited about it. I was also equally terrified, so I drafted a list of every possible thing that might go wrong and how to head each thing off. Like, record early in the party before everyone's had too much to drink and have only Jake on camera to limit the number of possible liabilities.

I also needed to practice my video skills. So on Friday afternoon, when most of the office had cleared out of the building, I decided to post my first live video to the internet.

I propped the phone up against my laptop monitor and clicked on the live-streaming app that would post to all my social-media accounts. My face on the screen was shrouded in shadows thanks to the wall of windows behind me, so I moved around the other side of my desk to face the light. Better, except the phone was too low, causing a ridiculous case of double(or triple)-chin. I scribbled a note on my sticky pad: Get a tripod.

I held the phone up in the air and clicked the "Broadcast Live!" button with my thumb.

I cheerfully waved at myself on the screen. "Hey, everybody! It's Lucy. I hope you don't mind, but I'm using you all as guinea pigs to test out this live video feature for my new job here in Nashville. So let me know in the comments if you can see and hear me all right!"

A couple of stars exploded in the corner of the screen, signaling someone had starred my video. There was an eyeball icon in the corner of the screen showing one...no, two viewers!

"I guess I could give you all a tour of my new office," I said, standing up slowly and balancing the phone carefully in my hand. "I've got a gorgeous corner office at the Summit Tower, and this spectacular view of downtown Nashville!"

It took a second for me to figure out how to flip the camera's view around. While panning the room, someone left a comment that scrolled across my screen.

Hi, Lucy! - Elly Cooper

Elly was my cousin on my dad's side of the family.

"Hey, Elly!" I said, turning the camera back around.

Six viewers. Another comment scrolled by.

Looking good, Lucy. - Matt Owen

Matt was my mother's brother.

I turned the camera back around to face me. "Hi, Uncle Matt!"

Eleven viewers. Another yellow star dinged in the corner.

We love you, Lulabean. It's your old man here in the islands. I'm using Katherine's account. This is neat. - Katherine Woodville Cooper

A bowling ball landed in my stomach. "Love you too, Dad," I said, struggling to keep my voice chipper as I waved at the screen. "I have to get back to work! Thanks for watching my video!"

I clicked the "End Video" button so hard my phone almost slipped from my grip. Another button flashed on the screen. Do you want to post your video? Nope. It really wasn't necessary.

I sighed and put the phone down.

"Katherine Woodville Cooper," I said aloud, letting each syllable slide slowly off my tongue. That was going to take some getting used to.

Not everyone in my office was gone for the day. Ava's door was still open on my way out, so I stopped to share my progress with her—not Audrey.

I knocked lightly on her doorframe. The back of her black office chair was facing me, and she spun around with her cell phone pressed to her ear. She held up a finger to ask me to wait, then pointed to a chair opposite her desk.

I quietly walked in and took a seat.

"You can't do this to me," she was saying to whoever was on the other line. "Even for you, it's cruel."

My eyes darted to the floor.

She was quiet for a moment. Finally, she huffed. "I'll call you later."

I looked up with the sound of her slamming the phone down onto her desk. I cringed and jerked my thumb over my shoulder toward the door. "I can come back if this is a bad time."

Ava swiped her fingers under her eyes as she looked up, leaving her mascara a little smudged. "It's fine. Sorry you had to hear that."

"You all right?"

She forced a smile. "Yeah. What's up?"

"Audrey wanted me to add live video to Jake's marketing plan for the new album's release. She wants to broadcast from the launch party."

Her eyes were fixed on the wall behind my head. She was obviously still rattled by the phone conversation. "Sorry, Lucy. Live video from the launch party...yes, Audrey mentioned that to me. What do you think about it?"

My head tilted from side to side. "I'm torn. I think it could be huge, but it's also a huge liability."

She nodded. "Live video out to millions of people from one of Jake's parties? You have no idea how high of a liability. I can just imagine the headlines."

Nausea churned in my stomach. "Think we should try and talk her out of it? We can always record and upload it after we've checked the video. That's what most people do."

She shook her head. "No. This is the new big thing, and once Audrey has her mind set on something, there's no changing it."

"OK. I've done a lot of research to figure out how to best make it work." I handed her a printed copy of the marketing plan. "Since the launch party is on a Saturday night, we need to start mentioning it now. I'd like to send a formal email invitation out to the fan club first, then to his email list, and follow it up with invitations on all his social-media accounts. The week before, we should shoot some informal video invitations with Jake, if possible, and really hype the event."

Her eyes drifted away from the papers toward her window, lost in thought again.

"Ava, are you all right?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

She raked her nails back through her long dark hair. "Oh, I will be. Don't worry about me. This all looks really good, Lucy. You've done a great job."

"Thank you."

"I'll pass the word along to Jake, so he can plan on being on his best behavior."

"I've seen the tabloids. Is that possible?"

"Don't place any bets on it." Ava leaned forward, balancing her elbows on her desk. "How are things going with the Adler guy? Are you seeing him now?"

I squished my mouth over to the side and shook my head.

Her shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry."

I turned my palms up. "At least it was nice to find out that there are some good guys here in Nashville."

She smiled, for real this time. "True. I mean, I don't know any but..."

We both laughed.

I stood. "Have a good weekend, Ava. Go do something fun to take your mind off this place."

"You too, Lucy."

A tiny surge of happiness rippled through me. "I plan on it."

And I did.

The first part of that plan was to stop at a shop in East Nashville called Asphalt Beach. I drove straight there after leaving the office, and I parked in front of the brick building with a blue roof and bright yellow window frames. I put my car in park and sat there, letting the engine idle. "This is a bad idea, Lucy," I said aloud to myself.

I turned off the car before I could talk myself out of going inside. Bells on the front door chimed as I walked inside the colorful room. The walls were yellow and lined with rows of roller skates and wheel displays. A black, red, and yellow oval was painted on the sleek tile floor.

"Can I help you?" a man asked, walking through a doorway to my right in front of the cash register. He was tall and fit, with a bright red ball cap pulled down low over his eyes.

I swallowed my nerves. "Um..." I yanked open my purse and fumbled through the main compartment until I found the roller derby flyer. I pulled it out and handed it to him. "I'm thinking about doing this, but I don't have any skates."

His lips spread into a thin smile. "Fresh Meat, huh?"

I gulped and took another shaky breath. "Maybe. The flyer says you give a discount for members of the team. Does that extend to possible members of the team if they don't die before they make it?"

He laughed. "Absolutely. Can you skate?"

I shrugged. "Haven't tried since I was probably ten."

He nodded confidently. "They'll teach you." Using the flyer, he beckoned me to follow him. "Come on. I'll hook you up. My name's Steve."

"Lucy."

"Nice to meet you, Lucy."

"You too." My eyes were on everywhere but where we were walking, and my foot caught the leg of a small metal stool. I stumbled forward and the man spun and grabbed my arm before I crashed to the ground. His wide eyes reflected my own doubts.

"You OK?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Nervous laughter bubbled out. "I was distracted by your store! So much to look at. So many bright colors!"

He grinned. "Try not to break your neck before we get you into some skates." His grin faded. "And don't break your neck then either."

My giggles were laced with terror.

We continued past a stack of boxes topped with zebra and cheetah print helmets to a wall display of roller skates. He grabbed a pair off a knee-high shelf. "These are the quads I recommend for newbies. They're quality skates that will hold up for a long time, but I do recommend getting an upgraded set of wheels for the track."

I took the skate from him. It was heavier than I expected and solid black with black laces and Velcro across the top. The black and red wheels were mounted on steel plates.

"What size shoe do you wear?"

"Seven and a half," I answered.

He knelt down and looked through a stack of boxes before retrieving one near the bottom. Taking the skate from me, he handed me the box. "Try these."

I carried the box over to the stool that had tried to kill me and sat down. "How much are these?"

"They're on sale for one-nineteen, plus the ten-percent team discount."

I choked on the air as I pulled off my shoe.

He noticed. "They sometimes have skates you can borrow for the first class to see if you'll like it."

I'd already considered that. "No. If I'm going to do this, I need to commit. I'll buy my own."

I shoved my socked foot into the skate and set it down on the floor to tie the laces. The skate rolled forward as I bent to reach for it. I picked it up and placed it back on the space in front of me. I didn't look up because I knew I'd catch Steve trying to not laugh at me.

I successfully tied the boot, then put on the other.

"How do they feel?" he asked.

I nodded and rolled the skates forward and back on the floor. "Good. They fit well, I think."

"Think you can stand up?"

I gulped and nodded.

"Wait," he said as I started to move. He stepped back toward the helmets and grabbed a black one. "First, this."

I laughed. "Smart man."

When the helmet was secured with the strap under my chin, he offered me his hand. "Now, put your toe stop down on the floor to keep from rolling as you stand."

Taking his hand, I angled my right toe toward the ground and pushed myself up on the rubber stopper. I put all four wheels on my left foot down on the ground, still standing on my right toes. "I haven't done this since I was a kid."

He winked at me. "It's just like riding a bike. Gently push off with your toe."

Pushing with my right toes, I leaned onto my left foot as it eased forward. Immediately, my arms flailed.

Steve stepped to my side and grabbed my elbow. "Bend your knees and use your thigh muscles. Don't rely on your joints to keep you steady."

Like a toddler on ice, I skate-wobbled to the red ring painted on the center of the floor.

"You're doing well," he lied, still holding my arm. "To glide forward, push your skates back and out to the sides using the inside wheels."

My confirmation nod was more like a vertical nervous shudder. I pushed with my right leg and glided forward on my left. Then I pushed with my left and glided on my right.

Somehow, I didn't die.

"Good!" Steve cheered, releasing my arm.

As I scuttled around the ring, my arms did an erratic gypsy wave out to the sides of their own accord.

"Very good!" He grabbed my arm to stop me when I reached him again. "How do they feel?"

I looked down at my feet. "Like I need to increase my life insurance."

He laughed. "Still interested in getting them?"

"Yes." Nope.

"Great." He turned back to the wall. "I recommend getting toe guards to protect them from getting scuffed."

"OK."

"Have a color preference?" he asked.

I looked the wall. "Their colors are black and teal, right?"

He nodded.

"Let's do teal then."

"Got it. Do you want to upgrade the wheels?"

"Should I?" I bent and unlaced the boots.

"The upgraded wheels are softer, which will give you more grip on the slick floor," he said.

"Then absolutely," I said, pulling the right skate off.

"How's that helmet feel?" he asked.

"It's good." I returned both skates to the box and slipped my shoes back on.

"You'll need wrist guards, knee pads, and elbow pads." He held up a package of each. "I recommend these basic ones when you're getting started. You can upgrade them later."

I gave him a thumbs-up.

"You'll also need a mouth guard." He pointed to a rack by the wheels. "I've got white, black, pink, teal, and clear."

"Clear," I said.

"Good choice." He grabbed the clear mouthguard and added it to the stack in his arms.

I held up two fingers. "Go ahead and give me the teal one also."

He grabbed it and looked down at his arms, obviously taking a quick inventory of all he was holding. "I think that's everything you need. If you'll carry those skates over to the register, I'll switch out the wheels for you."

I stood, and my legs still felt a little unsteady underneath me. "Thank you."

Ten minutes later, Steve had changed the wheels and relaced my new skates with the teal toe guards. They looked pretty sharp. When he rang everything up, I felt queasy as I realized I was paying good money to put my life in danger.

I forced a smile, handing him my credit card. "Any last advice?"

"Don't die."

"Ha. Thanks."

He swiped the card through the card reader. "Just have fun. We've got one of the best teams in the world, and they'll teach you if you're willing to learn and work hard."

"I am." And I meant it, although I wasn't exactly sure why. The whole roller derby thing had originally been birthed out of desperation to gain a cute boy's attention, but even with West Adler firmly out of the picture—and out of my mind—my determination to survive 101 was greater than ever. Maybe it was my brother's teasing. Maybe it was all my pent-up frustration with Dad and my boss. Maybe it was some unspoken need to be someone other than boring, caretaker, zip-lipped, small-town Lucy. Maybe it was the taunt on the front of the flyer: "Find out what you're made of."

In a week, Fresh Meat had become my Everest.

I lifted my bags off the counter. "Thanks for all your help, Steve."

He handed my receipt. "You're welcome, Lucy. Maybe I'll see you on the track next season."

I flashed him a wide-eyed, hopeful, yet uneasy smile. "Fingers crossed."

And on my way out of his shop, I tripped over the door's threshold.

***

Britches Get Stitches in stores this week!