Kennedy gave her a supportive one-armed squeeze as they made their way from the room where the three Eldridge finalists had presented their proposals—on camera—down the hall toward the informal reception. The event was being held at the corporate office and studio of one of Eldridge’s networks, Country365. Thankfully, they’d scheduled it in the evening, so Sierra hadn’t had to miss time from the jobsite, but now that she was done with the hard part, she was counting the minutes till she could take off her heels.

Sierra exhaled for what felt like the first time in the thirty minutes she’d been in the hot seat. “It felt about two steps away from a disaster,” she said under her breath, glancing around to make sure no one else heard her.

“Are you kidding me? You handled that”—Kennedy, too, checked to make sure no one was listening—“pig like a pro. He’s the ass, and everyone who was in that room knows it now.”

The pig happened to be one of the four panelists she’d presented to, the producer of Historical Homes, the show that would feature the Eldridge project, from initial applications to the final selection and then the renovation itself. Roger Crum had missed the previous interview round, and that was, Sierra suspected, one of the reasons she’d made it through to this final round. It was clear as fricking day the guy didn’t think a woman should own a remodeling company.

That fact made her stomach hurt, even though he was only one of four panelists and William Eldridge himself, who she’d never met, would make the final decision on the winner based on the recorded presentations.

They entered the reception room, where a couple dozen people were milling around, munching on cookies, and drinking what appeared to be champagne, which seemed premature to Sierra. This might be the final hurrah in the search for the winning remodeling company, but she was far from being ready to celebrate.

“How long do we need to stay?” Kennedy asked, leading the way to the dessert table. Sierra’s sister was not generally a people person, which made it interesting that, in addition to being part owner of Sugar Babies Sweet Shop, she had a flourishing marketing consulting company.

This time, though, Sierra was on the same page as her sister. “I’m thinking twenty minutes max. Long enough to be seen by the panelists and meet the other two finalists—and devour a few of these cookies.”

“Not as good as Ivy’s,” Kennedy said after taking a bite of a chocolate chip one.