There’d be no TV show for her, no opportunity to reap the publicity, expand her business, add a second crew, tie in her episodes with a YouTube channel and blog. Though she’d made peace with her interview answers, even to the tricky questions about her lack of a foreman at the time and her gender, she hadn’t realized quite how strongly she’d believed she was going to win. Like a fool, she’d believed if she didn’t allow herself to consider a negative result, she wouldn’t get one.

All I can do is give people my best ideas. If they can’t see the value in them, that’s their problem. She heard the words her grandpa had spoken countless times, probably every single time he didn’t win a bid. She’d always believed they were true, but this one was tough. This one wasn’t just another remodeling project.

“I’m such an idiot,” she said to herself.

“Still sixteen letters left. You can—” Cole cut himself off, apparently finally realizing that she wasn’t talking about the game. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Sierra sucked in a shaky breath, because saying it out loud was going to hurt so much. “I didn’t win. The Eldridge contest. Dunn & Lowell is first runner-up.”

“What?” Disbelief and outrage collided in his tone. “How do you know?”

She held her phone up. “Email.”

He extended his hand, palm up, a silent request to read it, and she handed it to him. A few seconds later, he handed it back and shot up off the couch. “Son of a bitch.”

“Yeah,” she said, her shoulders drooping and every muscle in her body suddenly feeling so bone-tired she could collapse into a puddle. She propped her elbows on her thighs and buried her face in her hands.

Kennedy had been texting her every day since the presentation to ask if she’d heard any news. Now she’d have to tell her sister she hadn’t won…as well as the rest of the family. For about two seconds, Sierra felt herself slipping into thought patterns from the past, of not being good enough, of having to repeatedly prove her skills to both her older siblings and the world in general… No. She refused to go there. The proposal she’d presented was damn good—unique, practical, emphasizing historical details while incorporating top-notch technology and convenience. That was what she did, who she was, and that’s what had been at the heart of her proposal. She still stood behind it to the smallest detail.

Which made her feel exactly zero percent better about losing.

She curled back into the couch cushion as she breathed out a sigh, her heart hurting. Twelve hours. That’s what she’d give herself to mope and be sad about it, but when she got to work tomorrow, it was time to move on.