Page 19 of The Holiday Makeover

Again.

And the thought of living in Aspen Lake? I didn’t see how that was possible. But the thought of living without Rory was something I didn’t think I could bear.

“What’s so important that you need to interrupt our production schedule?” Quinton snapped. “We’re already locked into these shoot dates.”

I knew very well that dates got moved all the time. Quinton just hated—more than anything—to be inconvenienced.

“I know that,” I said, jaw tight, “but I need to help . . . Rory.”

I hesitated to say her name. To Quinton, she’d become a prized jewel he was determined to claim. He still couldn’t believe she’d refused the studio’s offer—or his personal pleas—to do the show. I’d lost count of how many times he’d said she would take the series from good to magical.

It wasn’t exactly a confidence booster for me.

Not that I didn’t agree. The show wasn’t the same without Rory. My life certainly wasn’t.

“You’re with Rory?” Quinton perked up. I could practically hear him mentally salivating.

“Yes,” I groaned. “But don’t get any ideas. Her grandmother just died, and she’s devastated.”

“Why do you need to spend the next month with her? Doesn’t she have any other friends? Have you two reconciled?” His last question sounded a lot like him looking for leverage.

I knew I would have to be more truthful than I wanted to be. Rory had plenty of friends. And how many people would take an entire month off to help their ex?

“I was close to Rory’s grandmother as well. And she asked us to help get her house ready for her celebration of life on Christmas Eve,” I mumbled, hoping he didn’t read too much into it.

No such luck.

“You and Rory are renovating her house together for Christmas? This is ratings gold.”

I fell onto the old queen-size bed, which squeaked as if it were protesting my existence. “Let me stop you right there. We are not using Coco’s death or Rory’s pain for ratings.”

Even suggesting that to Rory would be a one-way ticket to losing her. Not that I had much of a chance at winning her back at this rate.

“That’s a shame,” Quinton quipped. “Ratings haven’t been what we hoped for. But if Rory made a guest appearance or two, I think there would be no doubt about a third season.”

A pit formed in my gut. “I didn’t know there was any doubt. Ratings have been good.”

“But not as amazing as we’d hoped,” he was quick to add.

I ran a hand through my hair. I knew it wasn’t the breakout hit the network had been hoping for. But I was pulling good numbers for my time slot. And I had one of the highest-rated renovation shows currently streaming.

But I wasn’t number one. I wasn’t the best. And that’s what the network had expected.

All the air in my lungs came out in one large breath. “Let’s brainstorm what I can do to make the network happy.”

I didn’t want to blow what I’d worked so hard for. Hell, I’d wrecked my life for this show. I lost the woman I loved for it. Fans of Hammer and Hue still wrote to me every week to tell me I was a jerk for letting Rory go. The number of people who assumed I cheated on her was ridiculous.

I couldn’t lose one more thing in my life.

“I think a cozy holiday reunion show with Rory would do the trick. I could have a crew there in two days. I’m assuming you’re in Aspen Lake. That’s where you both grew up,” Quinton said so arrogantly I wanted to deck him.

Didn’t he hear me earlier? I was sure he had. But all he cared about was the ratings. Not that I was any better. But I wanted to be. For Rory. I just needed to figure out a way to keep both my show and her. It seemed impossible at this point.

It felt as if the weight of the world was sitting on my chest.

I remembered feeling that way when Miami cut me from the team in my junior year. I’d tried desperately to transfer, to find another program that would take me. My NFL dreams slipped further away with each attempt. Not even my dad could fix it. He’d reached out to every coach he knew, but no one wanted me.

I could still hear him lecturing me—that I hadn’t trained enough, that I should have done better, that I’d wasted my talent and the advantages of my last name.