If people wanted to keep putting her in the pretty Barbie box, she was just going to keep cutting and smashing her way out over and over again until they learned their lesson. She may be pretty, but that didn’t mean she was stupid or incapable or the slightest bit dependent on anyone. Catalina King had clawed her way up the ranks of reality TV to not just star in her own show but produce it as well.

And there was nothing that she loved more than a chance to use her face to make a difference. Sure, it opened her up to public scrutiny. Two weeks ago, on a whim, she’d dyed her platinum locks a sexy caramel color with highlights. Twitter had lost its damn mind. People were still debating whether or not blonde was better.

Cat took the attention in stride. Her life was perfect. A challenging job, a jet-setting lifestyle, a never-ending parade of new, interesting men available for casual consumption, and a project in the new year that would take her beyond TV stardom into something that really mattered.

But between now and then stood Merry.

She dialed Yates and tapped out an impatient beat with the toe of her shoe as the phone rang. After a handful of rings, it went to voicemail. She disconnected and called back.

“This is Noah,” the man on the other end barked.

“Mr. Yates,” Cat began. “This is Catalina King.”

She heard an honest-to-God growl from the other end of the call. “I don’t have time for this,” he snapped.

“Frankly, Mr. Yates, your town doesn’t have time.”

Cat heard conversation happening in the background. “Listen, whoever the hell you are,” Noah snapped. “I’m trying to dry out an entire town here and figure out just exactly how extensive the damage is. I’ve got people who might not be able to return to their homes for months and a town that is losing hope. We don’t need some TV show coming in and churning out some sob story for ratings and advertising.”

“What do you need?” Cat asked coolly.

“I need you to take no for an answer so I can get back to work. You’re taking up my time that I need to dedicate to more important things.”

“Then maybe next time don’t answer the phone,” she suggested sarcastically.

“Great idea,” he snapped back.

“Before you continue your tirade, think about what you’re turning down here. We’re offering you a chance to rebuild quickly. The chance to get Merry back on its feet in time for Christmas. I know how much money comes into your town between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve. We can help make sure that the park is up and running—”