“Yes,” he answered meekly. Unlike Alba, my other assistants did not sass me when I was pissed. “They wanted to talk about a new project they’re filming in the next month.” Next month? Was this a joke? “She said it’s a limited series.” I rolled my eyes, ready to say no again, when Mike offered an uncustomary opinion. “If you don’t mind my saying, sir, she sounds very interested in talking to you. The location is...” He trailed off like he was reading something. “Dallas?” He read the word like he was having a hard time comprehending why anyone would leave the tristate area for any reason.

“Just let them know that I don’t...” I froze in midsentence as my brain finally registered the one word I’d missed in my rush to say no. “Did you just say Dallas?” I asked, recalling the challenge in Alba’s voice as she’d let me know what she had in hand and what it would take for her to come back to me. A reality show where she could show her skills to the world, where millions could see her designs—that would bring her more exposure than anything she was doing for the Sturm Foundation.

I turned to my father, who was looking at me with that perennial impatient irritation of his, and everything locked into place in my mind. A reality show that gave renovations to worthy causes could be the exact kind of PR we could use after the Valle Mar announcement.

“Sir, are you there? Should I tell her you’re not available?” Mike asked, snatching me out of the barrage of thoughts running through my head. Immediately I picked up the receiver, holding a finger up at my father when he opened his mouth.

“Actually, Mike,” I said, winking at my stepmother, “put her through. I’d like to talk to her.”

“What are you scheming?” Cecilia asked, while my father looked between us, eyes scrunched in confusion. My heart raced as I remembered the ravenous glint in Alba’s eyes when she told me that given the chance to be on a show she’d do whatever was necessary.

“Doing a pro bono renovation would be an excellent way to convince Valle Mar that a deal with Ganas would improve their brand, not damage it.” My stepmom’s eye glinted with approval, but my dad didn’t look convinced.

“Tell me more,” Cecilia encouraged.

“What is this about?” my father finally asked.

“Streamflix has been after me to be in one of their reality renovation shows. I’ve never gone for it, but now—” I could almost see the gears turning in my father’s head.

“We could use this for some good publicity,” I clarified.

My phone buzzed again and I hit the speaker. “Miss Billings, good to hear from you, would you give me a second?” I asked briskly.