“Don’t worry,” Kenzie said, catching my expression. “They’ll make you look amazing. Natural but enhanced.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “I told them to study your design school portfolio photos. You looked so fresh back then. So … unguarded.”
The way she said it made my skin crawl.
Twenty-five minutes later, I’d been transformed by a makeup artist named Jade, who worked with the efficiency of a surgeon. My hair had been “camera-optimized” (whatever that meant), my makeup was flawless but still me, and I’d been given a soft sage green blouse that apparently popped better on screen.
Vance emerged from wherever they’d taken him, looking unfairly handsome in dark jeans and a henley that showed off his shoulders. Our eyes met across the room. He gave me a small, uncertain smile. I managed to smile back.
“Okay, people!” Carol clapped her hands. “Let’s get the walk-through. Lila, Vance—you’re up. We want this to feel natural. You’re meeting for the first time as designer and client. Talk about the space. Ask questions. React honestly.”
Kenzie positioned us in the living room. Cameras appeared from nowhere, operators moving around us like silent ghosts.
“Just pretend we’re not here,” one of them said.
Right. Pretend three cameras weren’t documenting every word, every glance.
“Okay, Vance,” Carol called. “Tell Lila about the house. What it means to you. Give us the story.”
Vance looked at me, his expression shifting as if for support. I gave him a quick smile. When he spoke, his voice was warm, genuine.
“This is where I grew up,” he said. “My mom raised me here. Alone. It’s been in our family for three generations.”
A camera operator moved closer.
“And what made you want to renovate now?” Carol prompted from off camera.
Vance hesitated for just a fraction of a second. His eyes found mine.
“Because I’m ready to build a life here. To make this house a home again.” A pause. “For my daughter.”
My breath caught. He was going to tell them.
“I have a ten-year-old daughter,” he continued. “She’s coming to live with me soon, and I want her to have a real home. A sanctuary. Somewhere she feels safe.”
The cameras kept rolling. Carol nodded approvingly. Kenzie’s eyes were practically shining.
And I realized—this wasn’t just a renovation anymore. This was the transformation of his family’s home into the place where he’d rebuild his relationship with Margot. Where they’d become a family again. And I was going to help him do it. It might be the most important work I’d ever done.
“Lila?” Carol’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Your initial impressions?”
I pulled myself together, slipping into designer mode. “The bones are incredible. The location, the views, the flow of the space—it’s all here. It just needs to be opened up. Brought into the light.”
“What are you thinking style-wise?” Kenzie asked.
I looked at Vance. “I need to talk to the client first. Understand his vision—what he wants for his daughter. For himself.”
“Perfect.” Kenzie clapped her hands. “Let’s get some footage of you two walking through together. Vance, tell Lila what you’re hoping for. Lila, ask questions. Just be natural.”
Natural. Right.
“You’ve got this,” Vance whispered in my ear. “And you look gorgeous.”
I flushed, hoping no one had heard him—but delighted all the same.
We walked through the house slowly, the cameras following. Vance talked about his mother, about growing up here, about the memories in every room. I asked questions about his style preferences, his lifestyle, what he envisioned for Margot’s room.
We were professional. Careful. Neither of us acknowledged that this was completely insane.
“I want the kitchen to be the heart of the home,” Vance said as we stood in the dated space. “Somewhere for family and friends. I love to cook. I want Margot to feel comfortable here—to want to spend time in this space.”
