Happily Ever Hers
Page 24
Surprise flooded me and I couldn't help a bark of laughter that rolled out of me at her honesty and her pitch for my new home. "It's not for sale."
"No, no." April ran a hand through that mass of dark hair and it fell back around her neck and shoulders, glossy and thick. "Look, I'm sorry for barging in. I'm the producer of the show Holiday Homes. I was sent out here to solidify locations in Singletree to feature on the Christmas show, and your house is at the top of our list. Someone should have spoken to you already, and my executive producer says the contract was signed long ago, but maybe since you're just moving in …"
Frustration made my head pound. A contract? A television show? She had to be kidding. "No thanks."
"Mr. Whitewood, you bought the oldest and most historic house in town—the place was a plantation manor in the seventeen hundreds, and it's a critical part of the area's history. There's only one other house here with the same merits, history, and charm, and the woman who owns it ran our producers off her land with a shotgun in one hand and a joint in the other when they made their initial site visits. Your house is it, and featuring it on the show is a way to honor that incredible legacy, and if everyone I've talked to in town so far is right, the show won't be complete without it. The real estate agent my predecessor worked with promised us she'd spoken to you about it and that you signed the show contract, agreeing to be featured."
I scanned my foggy memory. Jessica had said something about decorating, or holidays … I hadn't paid much attention once I’d had the keys. Still, no one could barge in and force me to hang tinsel in my own house. I shook my head, "I didn't sign a contract that I recall, and I'm pretty sure I just told you no thanks." I moved around April, hoping that if I started walking down the stairs, she might follow, and it would put an end to this ridiculous conversation. I came here to get out of a spotlight, not to shine one directly inside my home.
April followed me down the stairs. "Look," she tried again, but I didn't stop limping toward the exit. "It's just that, I mean ... I'm kind of in a bad situation." Her voice softened, and I could hear that she wasn't trying to sell anything now. She sounded legitimately sad, and I hated the way my blood warmed in some misplaced protective instinct. I faced her, against my better judgment. "It's kind of my last chance, this show ... and well, if I can't feature your house, I'm pretty sure I'll lose my job." The bright eyes glistened as she stopped on the bottom stair, turning and looking back at me, her pretty lips pressed together.
I chuckled as I realized she was definitely still selling me—this was just another tactic. She was good, I thought. I almost believed her, not that it would have changed my mind. I was about to say something that would probably have been less than friendly when her face seemed to crumple, but then she quickly regained composure, pushing a hand through that incredible hair once more.
"I'm so sorry. That—that last part—that shouldn't make a difference. That's my problem, and clearly, I just need to do a better job explaining things, and—"
"No," I said, wondering now how much of her explanation was an act and how much was real. "Look, it has nothing to do with you. And I'm sure it's a great show and everything, okay? It's just that I'm really trying to keep my life private right now," I said. "To keep a low profile. You understand? I'll talk to a lawyer if I need to. I was kind of on autopilot when I signed all the paperwork, so whatever I signed—well, I'll just get it undone. I'm sorry for the confusion."
We stood on the bottom step of the grand sweeping staircase, and the movers came in and out the big front door ahead of us, carrying furniture and boxes. The sounds of scraping and shifting floated through the air along with the damp fecund smell of moist leaves littering the ground outside. April stared at me for a long moment, her eyes piercing the shield I’d been working impossibly hard to maintain as I felt a little piece of my wall shatter and fall, and then she nodded quickly. "I get it. I do."
She stepped down the final step and looked back up at me, her bright eyes glowing again. "But you should know I don't give up easily."
"The gate out front isn't usually standing wide open, you know."
She peered out the front door at the iron gate standing open at the entrance of my driveway. "I think I can scale it. I'm pretty athletic." She winked at me and then strode to the open door, turning. "See you again soon!"
That simple statement should have irritated me—I hated it when people wouldn't take no for an answer—and it did bother me, a little bit. But it also struck me like a promise, and despite the many promises broken in my life lately, I couldn't help feeling a little flicker of hope that April might keep hers. Even if I had no intention of being on her show, I wouldn't mind seeing her again.
***
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Copyright © 2019 by Delancey Stewart
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Did you love Happily Ever Hers? Then you should read Shaking the Sleigh by Delancey Stewart!
A full-length standalone holiday romcom from USA Today Bestselling author, Delancey Stewart!
I'll just admit it right up front—I don't love the holidays.
In fact, Christmas makes me downright cranky.
Call me the Grinch if you must, but if your dad chose that day to decide he was wrong about that whole wanting a family thing, you'd grow up miffed about mistletoe too. Every candy cane, ugly sweater, and falalalala reminds me of the worst day of my life.
So when my uncle—a bigwig network executive—gives me one last shot to salvage my disastrous TV production career on a show called Holiday Homes, I've got no choice but to suck it up, head to the small town of Singletree, and fake festive.
The problem?
Callan Whitewood. The sexy, sullen former pro-soccer player might be the one person on earth who hates the holidays more than I do. After a devastating injury ended his career, he's left with a limp, no idea what to do with his future, and a cheerless attitude worthy of Ebenezer Scrooge. But I've got a TIME LIMIT to convince the gorgeous grump to allow his home to be featured as the pinnacle of the Christmas episode of the show that's going to save my career.
That is, if I can keep my hands off him… but I'm having a bit of trouble sticking to the task.
SHAKING THE SLEIGH is a standalone holiday romantic comedy with a satisfying happily ever after, plenty of festive chuckles, some sexy times and a few chinchillas. Maybe a cat. (And there might be a wombat because wombats really do fit into almost any story.)
Read more at Delancey Stewart’s site.
Also by Delancey Stewart
Mr. Match
Scoring a Soulmate, a Mr. Match Novella
Singletree
Happily Ever His
Happily Ever Hers
Shaking the Sleigh
Second Chance Spring
Falling Into Forever
Watch for more at Delancey Stewart’s site.
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