Page 20 of The Holiday Makeover

I barely managed to graduate after that. All I wanted to do was run and hide. It was Rory who convinced me to finish school. She said I was meant for something else. Something better. I wanted to believe her.

I’m sure that’s what she would tell me now. But how many times could I reinvent myself? How many times could I face myself knowing what people were saying about me? I remembered the headlines and the sports broadcasts. They crucified me. Said I didn’t live up to my father’s legacy. That I had so much promise but just couldn’t deliver.

Losing this show—those headlines would be worse and farther-reaching.

I wouldn’t be able to show my face in Aspen Lake again. Or anywhere.

I thought of Coco’s words—that I could never get enough of what I didn’t need. But I needed this to work. I needed to prove to myself that I could go the distance.

This wasn’t about the roar of the crowd. This was about my dignity.

But there was one thing I wouldn’t do. I wouldn’t use Rory. As much as I would love to have her back, to work side by side again, I wouldn’t give her one more reason to believe that loving her had ever been about furthering my career.

“I think it would be good for the show’s ratings if we did a giveaway of sorts to someone deserving of a home makeover. We could get sponsors and vendors to donate the materials,” I offered, hoping to redirect his thoughts.

“That’s so overdone,” Quinton yawned. “The people, the network—they want the magic of Tate and Rory.”

The weight of the world pressed heavier against my chest. I wanted Rory’s magic again too. But I knew her making a guest appearance was a nonstarter, and even asking would obliterate any chance of reconciling with her.

“I’ll think of something more magical. Thank you for the time off. I’ll be in touch.” I ended the call before he could respond. He really was a weasel.

I chucked my phone onto the bed and rubbed my hands over my face, feeling like I was about to lose everything. It wouldn’t surprise me if Quinton was already talking to the show’s lawyers about canceling my contract.

And every second, Rory was slipping further away. All because I’d been too afraid to give her the life she wanted—a life I didn’t know how to live. A normal, quiet life.

But even if I did want to live that kind of life, how could I settle in Aspen Lake, where people, especially my parents, would look at me and only see a boy who didn’t live up to everyone’s expectations?

I knew how people worked. They would see the guy who got cut from his team and whose show got canceled. People tended to focus on others’ failures and thrive on them, even. It seemed to be human nature. No matter how many successes came before or after. People probably wouldn’t even count Hammer and Hue as a success, as I’d walked away from it at its height. More than one person had told me how foolish and risky it was.

And to add insult to injury, the doorbell rang, and within seconds I heard my mother’s voice drifting up the stairs. She warmly greeted Rory before saying, “We saw Tate’s truck yesterday. I kept thinking he’d stop by, but I guess that was wishful thinking.” She sounded more hurt than angry.

Damn.

I didn’t want to hurt my mom. I loved her, but our relationship was complicated. On one hand, she could be sweet and supportive, but I knew I’d let her down. They’d lost something among their circle of NFL friends when their son was no longer worth bragging about. When the legacy died with me. She’d never say it out loud, but I saw it. Felt it.

My dad was an entirely different story. He wasn’t subtle like Mom. He was always trying to fix my mistakes. Even now, if I told him about my conversation with Quinton, he’d call every contact he had in the entertainment business. Anything to save himself from the humiliation of telling his friends that his son had messed up again.

You should have seen the looks on their faces when I told them I was going to start a home renovation business.

My dad said, “I can’t believe you’re going to be a construction worker.” It didn’t matter that I excelled at it or made good money. No one could see that.

So he and Mom were thrilled to be able to tell everyone that their son had landed a prime-time show and a deal worth millions. Sure, they were upset Rory and I had broken up, but my fame assuaged their pain.

It never once dulled it for me.

“I’m sure he planned to come over. But we’ve been busy.” Rory was kind enough to make excuses for me.

She always tried to bridge the gap between my parents and me when she could. Protect me when she felt like she needed to. More than once she’d come to my defense. I think it gave my parents some pause, but they were who they were.

“Coco asked us to fix up the house together,” Rory added. “She wants us to throw her a celebration of life on Christmas Eve.”

“So, are you two back together?” Mom asked, sounding more than pleased.

I supposed that was my cue to save Rory from more awkward questions.

Not that Rory had any problem stating, “No. Definitely not.”

Not going to lie. That stung. But how could I blame her? What hope had I really given her for a happy ending?