“I want honest promotion, not manufactured gossip,” I said evenly.
Kenzie’s expression flickered—just for a second—before the bright smile returned. “Of course. We’re all on the same team here.” She walked away, already typing something on her phone.
I had the uneasy feeling that we weren’t on the same team at all.
That afternoon, I walked into the main room where they were setting up to film a confessional segment with Lila. They had herdesign boards spread out on a table almost like an art exhibit. While they fiddled with the lighting and touched up her makeup, I snuck a look.
A kitchen—elegant, inviting. Soft green cabinetry, brushed brass accents, twin islands beneath pendant lights that looked like they belonged in a French countryside estate. Exposed beams overhead. Zellige tile behind the range. A living room filled with pale blues and creamy whites, paneled walls, built-ins stacked with books, and a fireplace I could already imagine lighting on a rainy afternoon. Then the bedroom—a retreat in every sense. Layers of light linens, soft blues and creams, clean lines, warm textures, and a serenity that felt like her.
“These are amazing,” I whispered to Lila. “I can’t wait.”
She smiled over at me, her eyes sparkling. “Me either.”
A few minutes later, they started to film. I stayed just outside camera range to watch. Honestly, I couldn’t look away. Audiences were going to love her.
“This kitchen will become the heart of Vance’s home,” Lila was saying as the camera rolled. “A space for family. Friends. Mornings with jazz and coffee. Dinners with wine and laughter.”
She looked luminous beneath the camera lights—calm, confident, glowing. Born for this.
“After meeting with Vance, I had some ideas to make his childhood home his own,” she continued. “He spent many years in France and asked if I could blend a French aesthetic with the coast. I immediately saw it in my mind—a space that makes anyone who enters feel calm and relaxed. Like waking up on a quiet summer morning in Provence.”
The director called “Cut,” and the crew swarmed in. They rearranged a few of the boards. More powder for Lila. A flower arrangement moved to a different spot. Lighting adjusted.
One of the producers glanced at me. “She’s really good at this.”
“She really is.” Beautiful, poised, articulate. How was it possible to fall in love with a woman this quickly? But that’s where I was headed. And I wasn’t even trying to stop it.
Kenzie appeared beside me, watching Lila with an intensity that made me uneasy.
“She photographs well,” Kenzie said. “Very natural. Authentic.” The way she said authentic sounded almost mocking. “The network’s going to want more of her. A lot more.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Depends.” Kenzie tilted her head. “On whether she can handle the pressure. The scrutiny. Having her whole life examined.” She glanced at me. “Her daughter. Her past. Her relationships. It all becomes public property.”
My hands curled into fists. “That sounds like a threat.”
“Not a threat. Just reality.” Kenzie’s smile was cool and deliberate. “This is what she signed up for. What you both signed up for. The network owns the narrative now.”
She walked away before I could respond.
I watched Lila on camera, talking about creating sanctuary and home, and a chill crept up my spine. Someone needed to protect her from whatever Kenzie was planning. And I knew it had to be me.
After wrapping my final scenes until the big reveal, I was at Lila’s for dinner. Mia and I sat at the island while Lila threw together a quick pasta dish with fresh peas and chunks of ham. It felt so normal to be here with them—comfortable in a way that had nothing to do with food or conversation. I didn’t fully understand it, but it was true.
It had been three days since the last day of filming. Ironically, though my home was about to star in a reality television show, I still didn’t have a house ready to bring Margot home to. Begrudgingly, Nicole had provided me two additional days to find something—before picking up Margot—and I was still searching. I’d tried unsuccessfully to find a rental, but there was nothing in Willet Cove that suited my needs—or that would let me move in immediately. I vacillated between renting rooms at the inn for Margot and me or just staying in the tiny apartment until my house was ready. In the end, I decided it was best to bring Margot home to the apartment. I wasn’t sure what her life had been like with Nicole, but surely we could manage in six hundred square feet for a few months.
“I’ve been thinking about Margot’s room,” Lila said as she tossed the ham into the sauce. “Little girls have a lot of opinions when it comes to their bedrooms. After she gets settled, maybe you can bring her to my studio. She can show me colors she likes and tell me about her activities.”
“That’s a great idea, Mom,” Mia said. “She’s ten, so she won’t want it to be too babyish. At least, that’s how I was.”
“That was the year you asked me to change your décor,” Lila said. “From pink and unicorns to lavender and twinkly lights.”
“And the bunk bed,” Mia said. “So I could have Annie and Grace over.”
“I’ve no idea what Margot likes,” I admitted, the anxious pit in my stomach deepening. “She was four the last time I was with her. She liked dolls.” I smiled at the memory. “We had a lot of tea parties with a little porcelain set I found at a vintage store in Paris.”
“When do you go get her?” Mia asked.
