Turning to face the room again and ensure no one was approaching, she confided, “I think it is. I think I might be falling for him.”

Kennedy wasn’t one to show a lot of emotion, but she let loose a girly excited sound and leaned her head against Sierra’s briefly. “Bring him to Thanksgiving.”

“Are you listening? Talk about spooking a guy.”

“We’re not that bad,” Kennedy said, laughing.

They dropped the conversation as one of the other finalists introduced himself, an older gentleman based in Boulder, and his wife, who ran his office for him. It wasn’t long before the third finalist joined them, the owner of a Memphis remodeling company. He was maybe forty and definitely hot enough for TV, looks-wise, though he’d been unpolished and rough around the edges during his presentation.

They exchanged pleasantries and complimented each other’s proposals before splitting up as a couple of the panelists—Crum and Preston Morris, who was the host of Historical Homes and becoming a celebrity because of it—wandered in together. They stopped to talk to the Boulder guy.

“Back to Cole while we have a minute,” Kennedy said.

Sierra felt her phone vibrate in the pocket of her wine-colored blazer, and she pulled it out to see that Cole had texted three times, wondering how the presentation had gone. “Speak of the devil. Let me tell him I’ll talk to him when we’re done here.”

She typed in a quick message that it had gone well, she was still at the reception, and she’d call him as soon as she got home.

“What about Cole?” she asked Kennedy as she slid her phone back out of sight.

“If you’re involved, I’m surprised he didn’t make a point of being here. His trip couldn’t be postponed?”

“He hated that he had to miss tonight, but his brother needed him.” She explained briefly about the new North Brothers Sports acquisitions, Cole’s position, and how it was such a long time in coming for him to join the family business.

“The North Brothers? North Brothers Sports? And you didn’t tell me?” Kennedy said.

“I only found out the night of your wedding.”

Kennedy’s mouth was still hanging open when Adam Riccio, who was William Eldridge’s assistant, blond, close to Sierra’s age, clearly ambitious and organized, and had been the main contact throughout the process so far, entered the room and made a beeline for Sierra.

He shook her hand and said, “You did a fantastic job tonight.”

“Thank you.” Sierra smiled and hid all of her doubts. She introduced Kennedy and then said, “It sounds like the mansion will be beautiful regardless of who wins. But I hope it’s my company.”