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  “Did Nita fill you in on what we’re doing?” Mr. Tate asked.

  “Just a little.”

  “Then let me explain.” He flashed me a dazzling smile, showing teeth that probably cost a fortune to get that perfect. “We’re a production company under contract with CLTV to produce a series of competitions to find the next home staging TV star. We’ll also produce their new show. As the show producer, I’m responsible for making it all happen. The only person between me and the network is the executive producer, who holds the purse strings.” He grimaced as though that was a painful subject. “But he won’t be on the set.”

  “This is Olivia Yeager, our field producer.” He motioned to the woman beside him. She was squat with a bulldog expression. The type I wouldn’t want to cross.

  “Another producer? How many producers are there?”

  Olivia frowned. “Since this is a non-union production, I’m not called a director. But that’s what I am.” She didn’t look happy with that distinction. “Just call me the director. It’s easier for everyone.”

  Mr. Tate led us to nearby chairs and motioned for Nita and me to take a seat. “When the other contestants arrive, you’ll be briefed about the competition.”

  “That’s fine, Mr. Tate, but…” I paused, searching for the right words. “Nita told me a little about what you are facing, but I’m not certain I’m ready to commit to it.”

  A brief flicker of annoyance crossed his face, which he quickly concealed. “Ms. Bishop…Do you mind if I call you Laura? I’m Simon, by the way.” Again he flashed his expensive smile at me.

  “Please do, Simon.”

  “I don’t think you understand the opportunity you’re being offered. The other competitors went through a thorough scrutiny as to their suitability. We are only willing to consider you at this late hour because you own your own home staging business and on the recommendation of a total stranger.” He glanced at Nita, who blushed. “It’s Friday and we start filming on Monday, so you need to make a decision fast.”

  For someone who needed me more than I needed him, he was trying to make me feel guilty.

  “I’ll tell you what. Olivia will give you a tour of our set and explain what you would be doing. After that, we’ll talk again. How does that sound?” He looked like a beleaguered parent trying to reason with a young child.

  I nodded, wary but willing to take the tour and hear what she had to say.

  With that, Olivia whisked me away. Nita gave me a hand sign pointing down, which I assumed meant she would be downstairs with Josh whenever I finished with Simon and Olivia.

  Trying to keep up with Olivia, I stumbled over lumber strewn across the floor and caught myself. Olivia was a bundle of energy. Even with my long legs, it was a challenge matching her pace as we wound our way around all the construction materials.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It probably looks like I’m playing hard to get, but I’m truly not. My business is still fairly new, and I’m not sure I can take time away from it and—”

  “Ignore him,” Olivia said with a husky voice. “He’s used to people fawning over him and grabbing any carrot he dangles.”

  Her remark surprised me, but her gruff appearance impressed me as someone who didn’t suck up to anyone. She patted one of the many pockets of her safari-type jacket that covered a good portion of her stocky frame. “I’m dying for a cigarette.”

  That probably accounted for her husky voice.

  “Okay, here’s the scoop. We’re running six regional competitions. The winner from each of those competitions will compete in the finals. This is the fifth one so far. The next one is in two weeks, and the finals are two weeks after that. You see why we can’t delay getting a replacement. The winner of the finals will get a contract for their own home staging program on CLTV. It’s a big deal for the winner. The competitors, even at this level, would kill for that opportunity.” She turned and looked at me and sniffed. “With your concern about leaving your business and your obvious lack of interest, you can dismiss the idea of winning.”

  Ouch, that stung. Perhaps that was what Olivia had intended. Challenge me.

  “So what do you have to lose other than a week at your business? The free publicity will more than compensate you for your lost time.”

  Olivia pointed to the four cubicles that towered over us. “Each competitor will be assigned a set. They’re all identical and designed with some awkward features. The challenge will be to select furnishing and accessories to stage the room, overcoming those features. You can select from the furnishing we’ve brought in or purchase items using a cash card we’ll provide.

  “Two previous winners will serve as hosts who will occasionally interview you, provide commentary, and be available to answer any questions—but most of all, to make themselves look good. They think of themselves as ‘the talent’ and behave just about like you’d expect.

  “You will be followed off and on throughout the competition by cameramen and an audio engineer. They’ll film the interviews and some filler scenes, which will be used in one of the semi-final TV episodes. Since they’re only an hour-long, most of what they film will end up on the cutting room floor.”

  She stopped abruptly, again patting her pockets. “Do you have any questions?”

  “Lots, but I’ll limit it to one right now. I understand I can bring an assistant. Is that correct?”

  “Yes. But only the winner goes on to the finals. Not the assistant. It’s a cost and contract thing.”

  I glimpsed inside one of the cubicles. Although taking a longer look was tempting, I decided not to, not wanting to obtain an unfair advantage over the other competitors. If I became involved, I would win or lose on my own merits and not because I got to see the design challenges and had extra time to figure out how to handle them.

  As we turned to rejoin Simon, a young woman with bright red hair and a lovely heart-shaped face came toward us. Her black-framed glasses, braided hair, long cardigan, and frumpy blouse and skirt made her look as though she’d just stepped off the set of Little House on the Prairie.

  “That’s Beth Crawford, our production assistant. It’s her job to do anything we need done. She’s more than happy to do whatever she can to impress Simon.”

  Olivia waved her over. “Beth, come meet Laura Bishop. She’s possibly going to fill in for our competitor who had to drop out.”

  Beth gave me a bright smile, and we shook hands. “I hope you’ll join us, Laura. Having a vacancy would put us behind schedule, which is already ridiculously tight.”

  I smiled back at her but didn’t comment.

  “We’re doing our best to convince her.” With that, Olivia turned and led the way back to the end of the floor.

  Olivia’s comment that I probably wouldn’t win relieved my worry about the exercise turning my life upside down, but it had also brought out my fighting spirit.

  I couldn’t believe I was actually considering this—but the benefits to my small home staging business and the opportunity for Tyrone were tempting. On the plus side, the publicity could help me reach home sellers in our area who hadn’t heard of home staging before. It was still a new concept for many. I could also learn a lot from mingling with seasoned home stagers during the competition.

  But I couldn’t ignore the drawbacks. We were booked solid with homeowners anxious to get their places sold before winter. Taking time away now would be hard on my team. Since my business was new, I couldn’t afford the hit to my reputation if we disappointed a homeowner.

  Also, the idea of being filmed throughout the event gave me pause. I had no acting skill and the thought of humiliating myself in front of the camera made me cringe.

  Simon stood as we approached. “Well, did Olivia convince you to join the competition?”

  I couldn’t delay it any longer. I had to make a decision. Aunt Kit’s words echoed in my mind. “I
t’s the things in life we don’t do we regret.”

  I took a deep breath and nodded, hoping I didn’t live to regret it.

  Chapter 4

  Detach yourself emotionally from your home. As soon as you decide to sell, consider it a product you want to sell fast and for top dollar.

  After my discussions with Simon and Olivia, I used the wide stairs to descend to the ground floor, avoiding the elevator. I found Nita chatting with Josh. Nita held a package. It wasn’t often we left Josh’s place without buying something. His warehouse was like a treasure trove.

  “Well?” Nita’s eyes were wide with anticipation.

  I felt like teasing her by saying I still had reservations. But I knew she was dying of curiosity. “I told them I would enter the competition.”

  Her shrieks of excitement echoed through the first floor and perhaps beyond.

  “But don’t expect much. I’ll give it my best, but you know why I’m doing this.”

  Josh applauded. “That’s great, Laura. When you win, I can say I knew you when you first started in business.”

  “I’m glad you two have such confidence in me.”

  “Absolutely.” Nita grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “Let’s go so we can plan your clothes for the week.”

  I studied Josh’s solemn face. His usual cheerful manner had deserted him. I wondered if he’d told Nita what was concerning him. “Nita, you go ahead. I’ll meet you in the car. I need to chat with Josh for a second.”

  After Nita left, I turned to Josh with a questioning look. “What’s up, Josh?”

  “Sorry to hold you up. I know how busy you are.” He paused as though searching for words. “I don’t even know how to say this.” He cleared his throat twice. “I couldn’t even say anything to Nita about it.” He straightened the books in front of him and finally began to speak. “You know I’ve always been honest in my business dealings.”

  I nodded. Time after time, I’d seen how honorably Josh conducted his business, especially recently when he could have made a fortune selling paintings the owner consigned to him. After the man had been murdered, Josh could have sold the paintings without anyone being aware he had them. Instead, he’d turned the paintings over to the man’s family.

  Josh gulped. “A police detective came in this morning. He brought in photos of items stolen from area homes. He asked me if I could identify any of them. Unfortunately, I could. I’d just purchased some of them from a fella who came into the store last week. In fact, I was able to point out items I got from him that weren’t in the photographs.”

  “Oh, Josh, how awful.”

  “Awful for more than one reason. The detective confiscated the items I identified. So I lose out on them and the money I paid for them. But more important, I’m concerned word may spread I had stolen goods for sale in my store.”

  “But you couldn’t have known they were stolen.”

  “I’m usually so careful. Unlike pawnshops, I don’t have to report items I purchase from individuals, but I usually get the seller’s name and address. After paying him, we got to talkin’ about all matter of things. He was such a pleasant fella. Before I could get his information, the store became crowded, and he was gone before I knew it. He really suckered me.”

  “That happens to people all too often. Do you think you’ll get your money back if they catch the man?”

  “Detective Spangler was sympathetic but said it was unlikely I’d see the money again. Hey, isn’t he the police detective you’ve dealt with in the past?”

  “He’s the one.” Detective Spangler served as the detective in charge of some cases I’d become involved in. We’d butted heads a few times, so he wasn’t one of my favorite people. But the more I came into contact with him, the more I’d come to respect him.

  Worry lines were etched in Josh’s already gaunt face. “Based on the volume of stolen items, he said the operation could involve a large ring of thieves. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I need to clear my name of any involvement with stolen goods.”

  “Don’t worry. People know you to be honest.” I spoke more positively than I felt. It didn’t take much for a business to be hurt by news like that. News that spread like wildfire.

  When I arrived at the car, Nita immediately started discussing the home staging competition and didn’t ask me about my chat with Josh.

  As we drove home, thoughts of the competition fought with my curiosity about who could be stealing antiques from local homeowners and selling them to dealers?

  Chapter 5

  A home stager can help you make your home look its absolute best to potential buyers.

  Early the next morning, I went into Vocaro’s to meet with my team to discuss my upcoming absence. The tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries greeted me. We didn’t have an office, so meeting at Vocaro’s was ideal with its readily available coffee and food. One section had a fireplace and comfortable sofas and chairs. It was the perfect place to while away hours on a cold, rainy day.

  I arrived early to secure a large table for our meeting. Tyrone Webster, my college-aged young assistant, who also worked as a part-time barista there, stood behind the counter and immediately prepared my usual cappuccino.

  “Hey, Laura. It must be important for you to schedule a meeting on Saturday morning. Lucky, I don’t have any classes this morning.” In addition to his many part-time jobs, Tyrone studied design at nearby Fischer College. He handed me my cappuccino and a cinnamon muffin. “Let me clock out, and I’ll join you in a minute.”

  After paying Tyrone, I turned away to search for a table and caught sight of Nita. She had already snagged a large table for us. Nita served as my right hand, and I’d begun to rely on her. New to home staging, she took online classes and would soon have credentials as a certified home stager. She also served as our official photographer, taking before and after photos of homes we’d staged.

  “Hi, Laura. I told Guido you were entering the competition. He said to ‘break a leg.’” Whatever Nita knew, her husband Guido and her large Italian-American family would soon learn. Any news was usually all over town by noon.

  Soon Tyrone and Will Parker joined us. Will helped provide the brawn we needed to move the furnishings in our staged homes. And he was good company to have around.

  When everyone settled, I told them about the competition and my involvement. “Sorry to abandon you for the week with little warning, but I know you guys can handle it.”

  “We’ll manage,” Nita said. “Besides, you are only a phone call away. If we get in a bind, I can call Aunt Kit and Mrs. Webster for help.” Mrs. Webster, Tyrone’s grandmother, would love to have something to do, even if it was only to fluff a few pillows. Aunt Kit would do more supervising than work. I wondered whose week would be more challenging—mine or Nita’s.

  “Laura, whatever possessed you to wanna become a TV star?” Will asked. He pushed his cowboy hat back over his grizzled hair and leaned back in his seat. He was the very image of a languid, aging cowboy from old Westerns.

  I looked sideways and pointed to Nita. “It was her idea.”

  Tyrone laughed. “You’re letting Nita drag you into another one of her escapades again?”

  “Hey, they all worked out in the past.” Nita waved a fork at Tyrone. “Laura will never have an opportunity like this again. It also makes up for her convincing me to audition for the Louiston Players. I still can’t believe I let you do that, Laura. And neither can Guido.”

  “You’re doing great,” Tyrone said. He designed the sets for the Players’ productions each season, so he got to see the rehearsals. This season they were doing Music Man.

  “Admit it, Nita, you’re enjoying it,” I said. “With both of your kids at college, you need something to focus on. I’m glad we talked you into it. Besides, you’re perfect for the role of the mayor’s wife—lots of comedy.”


  “Okay, I admit it. I’m enjoying it, but there are so many rehearsals. Guido has even gotten involved, helping Tyrone with the sets. He said he did it so he can see me occasionally.”

  “That’s a good husband for you,” Tyrone said.

  “Tell us about this competition, Laura,” Will urged.

  “At first, I was reluctant to get involved with it, but for only a week’s investment of time, we can get loads of publicity. And, Tyrone, I get to take you along as my assistant, which means you could end up on television. Even if you don’t appear on TV, you can add it on your resume. Are you interested?”

  Tyrone put down the cup of ice he had been chewing and rubbed his hands together. “This sounds better and better. Why didn’t you tell me that to begin with? Wait until Gran hears. I could be the next Will Smith or Denzel Washington.”

  I knew what his elderly grandmother would say. He should think of his studies and forget the stars in his eyes. She had raised him since he was five and was very protective of him.

  We spent the next thirty minutes going over our schedule for the week and how to work around my absence. After we finished, Tyrone returned to his post at the counter, and Nita headed to rehearsals.

  “You sound like you are getting involved in this for everyone else’s benefit,” Will said. “What do you get out of it besides publicity? Do you want to become a TV personality?”

  “That’s the last thing I want. Do you think it’s illegal to throw a competition?”

  I looked up to see Beth, the production assistant I’d met the previous afternoon, walking through the crowded room. It wasn’t long before people new to Louiston discovered Vocaro’s. Seeing her looking for a place to sit, I waved at her to join us.

  “Thanks. I didn’t think I’d find a seat.” Beth dropped her bulky backpack onto the floor, unwrapped the emerald green scarf from around her neck, and sank into a chair with a sigh. Dark circles under her eyes and the slump of her shoulders revealed how exhausted she was. I hoped she wasn’t an example of how tiring TV work could be.