“Why not? This is perfect for you,” Marley said. “At least get the details. Shayne, call him now.”

Shayne recoiled. “Oh, my god, I can’t do that!”

“Why not?” Marley asked.

“I called him first thing this morning, I couldn’t resist—I love sexy, sleepy voices. So now”—he checked his watch—“I can’t call him for at least thirty-six hours. Minimum. Forty would be better, but I absolutely cannot go past forty-two.”

“What?” Reena frowned. “Why?”

Shayne tilted his head knowingly. “Seriously, Reena? I know you’ve sworn off dating, but it hasn’t been that long. I’m in the most delicate time. Going from hookup to relationship is the hardest maneuver in modern love.”

“I’ve had twelve boyfriends and I never followed such strict rules.”

Shayne raised one brow. “Exactly. Twelve ex-boyfriends.”

Reena winced. It was true, but she didn’t need it pointed out.

Marley picked up Shayne’s phone from the coffee table and thrust it at him. “Shayne, you’re being ridiculous. Just call him.”

Shayne rolled his eyes at Marley. “Fine. But if I get friend-zoned, your vintage McQueen scarf is mine. I’m doing this privately.”

He took the phone into Marley’s room and shut the door.

Marley chuckled. “Honestly, I’ve never seen him like this. He’s so smitten with this guy that he’s talking out of his ass.”

“Well, I hope we don’t mess up his chances. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to do this FoodTV thing anyway.”

“Why not? You’d be great at this. You’ve done other contests, haven’t you?”

“Not for a while.”

“Well, let’s hear what Shayne has to say before you make a decision.”

Reena smiled blandly, but she couldn’t imagine any more information that would tempt her. After everything that had happened to her blog, she did not want to be put in the spotlight again in the food world.

Ten minutes later, Shayne wordlessly sat back down on the couch, eyes glistening with excitement.

“Well?” Marley asked, leaning forward.

“Anderson …” Shayne sighed and fanned his face with his hand. “I just absolutely can’t with him. You know what he just told me? He said I was the first person who’d ever—”

“Shayne, the contest!”

He seemed to snap out of his daze. “Right. Yes.” He scanned the room, then grabbed a pad of paper from the coffee table. “Here … this is complicated, you’ll want to take notes.” He tossed the paper and a pen at Reena. “So, this is the most Reena thing that I’ve ever heard about, and if you don’t do it, I will no longer be able to gloat that my friend is the savviest blogger out there. This thing is made for you.”

“Yes … but Shayne, I’m not actually a blogger anymore. I—”

“Ah!” He put his hand out to stop her. “Just listen and trust, Reena. So, it’s called the FoodTV Home Cooking Showdown. It’s not a search for a new network host, per se, but the winners get a one-off special. The buzz is they don’t want to commit to promising a show, but are using the contest as an unofficial open call for new talent.”