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"Don't you even want to hear my proposal?"
"Not particularly, if you can't even get my name right."
"Fine,Jake, here's the idea. We renovate an actual house to recreate the set of Hudson House in honor of the twenty-fifth anniversary. We get actual items from the set plus whatever recreations we can afford. Then we list it on a home swap site and charge people a mint to stay there."
"Trying to cash in on nostalgia? Good luck with that."
"I don't need luck. I need you. To be the host."
Jake's blood froze, but Frankie stepped up and took his hand in hers.
"That's a nice offer, but Jake doesn't act anymore. Besides, he's way too busy on our shows to take on another one."
Frankie's free hand rubbing his bicep would look like a gesture of comfort to anyone else, but she was restraining him from tearing this asshole a new one. And he could appreciate the wisdom in that. Even if the asshole deserved it.
"That's not what I heard." Greg leered at Frankie. "In fact, I put in to be his replacement myself, but I guess they went a different direction."
"Well that's a blessing." The last thing Jake wanted was to hand over his projects to this jerk who would make them loud and obnoxious. "As for the Hudson House project, Frankie is right. I don't work in front of the camera anymore."
"Come on, Jake, don't be…"
Jake didn't catch the rest of Fowler's argument because he'd tugged Frankie's hand and they left, weaving through the crowd. It was a slow escape because every few feet someone stopped to talk to one of them, but at least Greg took the hint and didn't pursue them. Frankie carried conversations with laughing good humor and teased their way across the dance floor. It felt effortless, the way she worked the room. She fit right in, and he was grateful for her support. She was amazing.
Frankie nudged him into the line at the open bar. She handed him another glass of champagne. He sipped deeply while she accepted a fresh one from the bartender. Then she turned to him, eyes earnest and full of questions.
"What did he mean?" she asked.
"What did who mean?"
"What's-his-name Gary? Gray?"
"Greg. Greg Fowler. Fellow showrunner and general pain in the ass."
Frankie nodded and sipped slowly before she spoke. "He said he'd applied to take over for you?"
Jake rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, which was suddenly prickling. Had he developed a Spidey Sense for when he'd done something that would piss Frankie off? That could come in handy…
"Yeah, I'm more of a development kind of guy. I get shows up and running for a few seasons, you know, work out the kinks. Once the format is solid, I hand it off to someone else."
"And when are you planning on handing us over?"
Jake looked at the ground as he answered. He didn't want to see the look in her eye. "Season three will be run by someone else."
There was a long pause before Frankie spoke again. "Do you know who it will be?"
"Nothing has been finalized but I've made some requests. It all depends on who is free when Adrian and Fi are ready to start up filming again." He dared a glance at her then and saw her fighting to be stoic. Her jaw clenched and unclenched as she managed to stay calm in a room full of high-profile strangers. Damn, she was impressive. "Trust me. I won't leave the show with just anybody. And it sure as hell won't go to Fowler."
"What will you do next?" This came at nearly a whisper.
"I don't know yet." It was the truth. He'd had several projects pitched his way, but nothing had felt quite right. He hadn't been able to think clearly about it since they'd gotten together. "You know I have to go back to LA…"
Frankie just nodded and sipped her champagne, but her eyes were unusually shiny. "It just hadn't hit me that the show would be run by someone else. And that you'd be so happy to leave."
He didn't want to think about this. He didn't want it to be over. Not when he and Frankie were just hitting their stride… But it was inevitable. Her life was up north with her family, and his was wherever the next challenge took him.
A few weeks ago, he'd have told her that whatever they had was temporary. In fact, he had. But now he wished things could be different. They wouldn't be, but he wished it all the same. He wanted to take away the tears in her eyes and the tightness in his chest. But he couldn't lie to her. If there was one thing his life as a child actor had taught him, it was that for better or worse, everything came to an end.
CHAPTER23
