But this isn’t about you.
“Bathroom.” He ducked inside, and I rested my head against the cold glass, sick to my stomach like I was in Michigan.
Booze would make this better.
Ignoring that idea, I went with Rob down to the lobby. Outside, the driver bounded out when he caught sight of us. Apparently he had orders to offer full VIP treatment. September in Toronto was beautiful, bright and clear, but my nerves didn’t allow me to enjoy the short drive to the station. House Beautiful occupied five floors in a skyscraper a mile and a half away, and Ms. Caldwell came down to greet us in person; she was a beautiful brunette in her late thirties, expensively dressed in a black suit and phenomenal shoes. If I was right about the brand marked by a red sole, they cost more than everything I owned except my car.
“So great to meet you,” she said, offering a hand to Rob.
“Likewise.”
In the elevator, he introduced me and I got a nod. “Right, you said that your girlfriend handled the technical aspects of your web series. Don’t worry, we have people for that.”
It was hard not to take that personally. But I pressed my lips together. I’m moral support, that’s all. I won’t screw things up for him by arguing with Annette. There was a whole team waiting in a conference room with job descriptions I forgot as soon as I heard them. They had a concept ready to run, provided Rob tested well on screen and with various focus groups. I blank-stared through a lot of it, though I tuned back in toward the end.
Annette Caldwell was saying, “We’d like to fold your video series into the show, do a segment called ‘At Home with Rob.’ That way, you keep the brand you’ve already built, but we can also work within the framework of Hot Property to grow your name recognition.”
Seriously? He’ll never agree to that. If I knew him at all, it would push all of his buttons in the wrong way.
But Rob was nodding thoughtfully. “The focus of the show is renovations that will increase the resale value of the home?”
“Yes, we’ll let you pick projects from a pool of homeowners, all of whom are willing to invest a minimum of ten thousand dollars in their homes in the hopes of turning a profit when they flip it. In return, they’ll be featured on the show with you and receive a reduced rate on your renovations. You’ll also be in charge of a crew of five assistants, and you can select from the prescreened candidates earmarked by the producer. A number of them sent résumés for the hosting call, but they aren’t quite what we’re looking for in a show anchor.”
You mean they’re not hot enough, I thought sourly.
“It’s a fun concept,” Rob said. “When’s the screen test scheduled?”
“In fifteen minutes, provided you’re still on board.”
I expected him to look at me, as he usually did, but he tapped his fingers for a few seconds, then said, “Let’s do it.”
Ms. Caldwell turned to me. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable in here or in the waiting room. This shouldn’t take long. I mean, given how many videos Rob’s made already, it’s a formality to satisfy the sponsors and the tech crew.” She smiled at me, too many teeth for me to read it as sincere. “I can have the receptionist bring you some coffee or tea. Juice? Water?”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” I got out my phone because that was what people did to pretend they had something important to do.
By the time they got back, my battery was virtually dead. On the plus side, I didn’t have to talk to anyone. Rob was laughing at something Ms. Caldwell said, seeming completely at ease with all of the people surrounding him. Just as well, if this was actually happening, and he’d be crazy to turn them down. Probably some higher-ups would have to approve the budget and give the producers the green light, but it seemed promising, so much that my stomach hurt. And I hated myself because I liked our quiet life. I didn’t want things to change, but it seemed like the world had finally noticed what I knew all along.
Yeah. Rob’s special.
“Everything looks really good,” she said, poised in perfect silhouette in the doorway. “Naturally, there will be a number of professional appearances during launch week. Parties, openings, interviews. We want to get you in front of national media as much as possible. Are you familiar with sweeps?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not much of a TV guy.”
That appeared to delight her, maybe because it meant he wouldn’t turn into a fame-hungry diva so fast. “I’ll explain later. Once we get the go-ahead, I’ll email you the contracts to look over. But...we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves.” She touched his arm, smiling. “I have a good feeling, though, don’t you?”
He smiled back. “You’ve been really nice.”
I stood up, swallowing a sigh, because I had the crazy idea I could walk between them and neither one would even see me.
She added, “Feel free to charge dinner to the room. Normally I’d take you out to celebrate, but I suspect it’s been a full enough day already.”
“Definitely.” Rob was just too handsome for his own good. In plaid flannel, he glowed with a wholesome charm that made women want to eat him up.
By Annette Caldwell’s expression, she’d have him for breakfast. “I’ll walk you down and make sure the driver’s ready for you.”
I didn’t say much of anything on the trip back. Rob filled me in on everything they’d discussed, and I nodded a lot. His enthusiasm was infectious—or it should’ve been—but I had nothing but knots tangling my circulatory system, so my heartbeat felt wrong, and I tasted copper in my mouth. Most people associated it with blood but for me, it was dread.
“You’re quiet,” he noted as we climbed out of the Town Car.
“It’s been a long day.”
“What do you think?”
“It’s an incredible opportunity,” I said honestly.
While I didn’t love the show’s name, it was catchy—with a solid premise. Moreover, it was something Rob could do and do well. Back before we got together, he’d told me how he wanted to flip houses for a living instead of work construction. Now he might be offered a shot to do that—on TV. Apparently, it would only be airing in Canada to start, but they had a good track record with American syndication.
“I can’t even...” As we got in the elevator, he trailed off, shaking his head. “It’s so hard to wrap my head around. Some lady sends an email, Annette clicks a link and...all of this.”