I reluctantly stood to wash my face. It would give me the requisite second wind to finish the episode. The prematurely silver-haired real estate agent Ryan was featured prominently in this one, and I had a little crush. But more than his twinkly gray-blue eyes, it was what his assistant said next that made me forget all about the damaging effects of wearing makeup overnight.

“Please explain to me what Andrew Hanes sees in the reclusive town of Pleasant Hollow. Didn’t he make his billions developing real estate in New York and LA?”

I fell back onto the couch and racked my brain for why this dialogue on a reality show struck a familiar chord. I’d never heard of Andrew Hanes or been to Pleasant Hollow. Yet I was riveted. I leaned forward as if it would help me hear better.

On the screen, Ryan propped his elbows on the granite kitchen island in the apartment he was showing that day—in one of Andrew Hanes’s newest buildings in SoHo. “He follows the money and sees an untapped opportunity in an underdeveloped community. He says the area has been lost in time, completely disregarded for the gem it is.” Ryan went on to explain how Hanes, the real estate mogul who had made much of his money investing in new property in Tribeca during the early aughts, hoped that by building a condo complex in Pleasant Hollow with its own shopping center, restaurant, and gym on the lobby level, he could capitalize on families searching for the luxuries of suburbia with the convenience of being close to New York City. With real estate prices driving people north of Westchester and Rockland Counties, the location of Pleasant Hollow in nearby Orange County was ideal.

His assistant smirked. “Are you sure you’re not mistaking Hanes’s plans with the plot of a Hallmark movie?”

My mouth dropped open and I smacked my forehead. No wonder the conversation sounded so familiar. I’d watched the same exact storyline play out on TV a hundred times. I laughed all the way to the bathroom. Good luck, Mr. Hanes. These sorts of business endeavors never worked out for the greedy real estate mogul in the movies.

I changed my mind about watching more television and went right to bed after a quick shower to wash any remnants of hard candy out of my hair. But I had a restless sleep. I dreamed about walking along Main Street in a sleepy town as snow fell steadily from a star-filled sky. It must have been December, because all the storefronts were decorated with garlands and blinking Christmas lights. My nose wasn’t red and running, my hair was smooth and silky, and although I was barely bundled up, I didn’t feel the cold. The handsome, unmarried mayor asked me to do the honors of lighting the Christmas tree at the annual tree-lighting ceremony, even though I was Jewish.