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  “Glad you could join us. Beth, this is Will Parker, one of my team members. Will, this is Beth Crawford. She’s with the production company.”

  “Howdy, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.” Will shook her hand.

  Beth stared at Will and his cowboy hat, jeans, and denim jacket. “Well, howdy yourself. You’re a little ways from home, aren’t you?”

  “You could say that. I used to be on the rodeo circuit out west but came here to be near my daughter and her family. But I still get to ride occasionally. I’ve started giving riding lessons up at Thompson’s stables. In fact, I’m going up there shortly.”

  “Oh, I do miss riding. My family had horses, and my sister and I rode almost before we could walk.”

  Will sat up, ready to leave. “Why don’t ya come along? They always have horses needin’ a stretch.”

  “I don’t know.” She looked wary. “I am off for a few hours, so it’s tempting. And it’s been a long time since I rode.” She glanced at me.

  “Yes, why don’t you go? The Thompson stables are up on Miller’s Mountain, and it’ll be a beautiful ride with the fall colors. Will is careful. He’ll look after you.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, I’d like to.” She looked like a kid who’d been offered a treat. “I have my good boots on, but it would be worth getting them messed up to have a ride.”

  They gathered their things to leave. Beth turned back. “Laura…during the competition…please be careful.”

  Chapter 6

  The first step in staging a home is to declutter and remove items that are taste specific. If necessary, rent a storage unit to store them. Clutter-free homes look bigger.

  Arriving at the warehouse late Sunday afternoon, I followed the sound of laughter and clinking glasses and joined a milling crowd at the meet and greet Simon and Olivia were hosting for the competitors, local dignitaries, and the production crew. Tyrone, still working on the Music Man sets, couldn’t come along.

  Stepping into the room, I blinked, not recognizing the space that had previously been used for manufacturing. Totally transformed by tables draped with gold tablecloths and topped with glowing candles and vases of bronze chrysanthemums, the room now emanated a festive ambiance.

  Simon and Olivia had gone all out for the occasion. A table against the wall overflowed with wheels of Camembert and other gourmet cheeses, colorful grapes, and savory pastries. Luscious-looking chocolate cakes, trays of cookies, and pecan and fruit tarts filled adjoining tables. The biggest draw was a large table in the center of the room laden with buckets of chilled wines and pitchers of fruity punch.

  The sound of chatter filled the large space. I recognized the mayor and her husband and members of the city council but not many others. I was beginning to feel lost in a crowd of strangers when I heard a familiar voice.

  “Laura, welcome.” I turned to find Beth Crawford behind me, wearing her usual baggy clothing, this time topped with a cobalt blue scarf that matched her eyes and complemented her red hair.

  “Hi, Beth.” I was relieved to see a familiar face. “How was the trip up the mountain?”

  “The trees were gorgeous. So many different colors of leaves. Where I come from in Kansas, we don’t have a lot of trees.”

  “Were you able to get in a good ride? My one visit to the Thompson’s stables had me dodging swishing horses’ tails and watching where I stepped.”

  “It was great. But it’s been a long time since I’ve ridden, I’m a bit sore now.” She mimicked limping a few steps.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. You looked like you could use a break.” Searching for the right words, I paused. “Beth, when you said be—”

  “Laura.” A voice boomed behind us. Turning, I found Simon holding a drink in each hand. “It’s great to have you here.” He winked and handed me a glass of white wine.

  Beth grimaced at his approach.

  Simon put his hand at my back, guided me into the center of the crowd, and called out to draw everyone’s attention.

  “Welcome, everyone, to this CLTV Home Staging Star semi-final competition. I’d especially like to welcome our guest of honor, Henry Jacobson, president of Fischer College. We owe Henry a debt of gratitude for sponsoring our event here in Louiston. We are especially pleased to have him as one of our judges. I’d also like to acknowledge Louiston’s mayor and members of the city council, who have graciously welcomed us to this fine community.”

  The president of Fischer College was going to be one of the judges? Oh, no. With Tyrone as my assistant, would his student status at the college present a conflict of interest or give the impression of favoritism? Becoming involved with the competition was becoming more complicated with each hour.

  With the polished air of a campaigning politician, Simon artfully wove silky praise and commentary about the Louiston community, the hardworking production crew, and the challenging but rewarding week ahead for the competitors.

  Behind me, a man groaned. “This is getting so old. Next, he’ll say one of you could be the next CLTV star.”

  “One of you could be the next CLTV star,” Simon said as if on cue, waving his arm expansively over the group.

  “Three women competitors,” a female voice said. “Which one do you think he’ll hit on first?”

  “Here to help you through every hammered nail and fluffed pillow are our very own CLTV superstars, Robin Ayers and Luke Fleming, winners of previous competitions. Robin and Luke, come on down.”

  Two people behind me pushed through the crowd to the center, waving at everyone. Olivia stood on the side, leading the applause.

  “Can I refresh your drink?” I looked up at the young man standing next to me.

  “Thank you, but no. I want to keep a clear head.”

  When the introductions were over, he stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Chris Channing, one of the three cameramen.” With his tall build, blond hair, and good looks, I could easily have mistaken him for one of the hosts.

  “I’m Laura Bishop, one of the competitors.”

  “Nice to meet you, Laura. Fair warning, I’ll be following you and the others around all week.”

  At the expression of horror that must have appeared on my face, he laughed. “You’ll get used to us. Just forget we’re there. I’ll warn you, though, be careful what you say. We hook you up with a portable mic, and sometimes people forget they’re on. Our audio guy has heard things that could be terrific blackmail material.”

  “Fortunately, or maybe I should say, unfortunately, there’s not much in my life that’s fodder for blackmail.”

  “Just make sure to turn off your mic at appropriate times—like breaks. You get the idea. We have to post signs in the restrooms to remind folks to turn their mics off and then on again when they leave. We’ve even put tables outside the rooms for people to leave the mics there when they go in, but they still forget.”

  The image made me smile thinking about it. “Thanks for the warning. You said your name is Channing. That was my name before I got married.”

  His eyes widened. “Perhaps we’re related. Are you from Florida?”

  “No. I’m from right here in Pennsylvania. My family was pretty small, which perhaps was just as well. I only have my Aunt Kit, and she’s more than I can handle.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I have some aunts like that too.”

  I looked around for a place to leave my unfinished drink and saw Beth approaching. “Come this way, Laura, and let me introduce you to the other competitors.” She led the way to a small cluster of people, who looked up expectantly, probably hoping I was somebody important.

  She introduced the other three contestants, Gloria, Zoe, and Brendan. If I had a more competitive nature, I would have been sizing them up.

  “So you are the fill-in,” Gloria, whose facelift had left one eyebrow higher than the other, remarked. “Word is they had
to bring in someone at the last hour. Do you know anything about home staging?”

  I studied her and sighed. This is going to be a long week. “I own a staging business here in Louiston.”

  “I’m so pleased to meet you, Laura.” Zoe said. With her dark wavy hair and a zillion-watt smile, she would look terrific on camera. “We are going to have such fun this week.”

  Brendan, a thin young man who sported spikey red hair and tattoos that snaked up both sides of his neck, nodded at me and walked away.

  After exchanging polite conversation with Gloria and Zoe, I scanned the large area, looking for Olivia. The sooner I addressed the issue of Tyrone’s connection to the college, the better.

  I spotted her standing next to the beverage table, pouring a rather large glass of wine. I made my excuses to Gloria and Zoe and headed in her direction.

  “Olivia, do you have a second?”

  She looked up at me as though she were having a problem placing me or focusing. “Ah, Laura, yes. Why do I think I’m not going to like what you have to say?”

  My expression must have looked more severe than I’d intended. “Sorry to bother you with this now, but since the president of Fischer College is one of the judges, I thought I better bring this to your attention.”

  Olivia took a large gulp of wine and frowned. “Okay, hit me.”

  “My assistant, Tyrone Webster, is a student at Fischer College. I didn’t realize it might be a problem until now. He’s the only one I can ask. If you think Tyrone’s involvement could present an appearance of favoritism, I can withdraw—”

  Olivia laughed. “That’s assuming you could possibly win. If you don’t, there’s no hint of favoritism.”

  My eyes widened in reaction. Obviously, Olivia viewed me as a small-town bumpkin and absolutely no competition for the others.

  She took another gulp of wine. “Look, I don’t mean to be unkind, but you are competing against people who’ve been in this business for a while. You only started this year, right?”

  I nodded.

  “And you only agreed to become involved when we talked about the potential for publicity for your small business, right?”

  Again, I nodded.

  “So I don’t think you have to worry about the judges. We’re just hoping you make a decent showing.”

  A decent showing? My fighting spirit began to erupt, whether I wanted it to or not.

  “Besides, does your assistant personally know the president of the college?”

  “I don’t believe so. Tyrone designed a stage set for one of the college’s stage productions. The president could have heard of him from that.”

  Olivia grimaced and placed her hand on her chest as though this was giving her heartburn. “Right now, you can’t find another assistant, and I can’t find another competitor. We start tomorrow. So I guess we’re both stuck. Just have Tyrone lie low and not mention his connection to the college. And then we’ll both hold our breath.”

  With that, she chugged the rest of her wine, slammed her goblet on the table, and stumbled away—holding onto each table and chair she passed for support.

  Anger and relief filled me. Anger that she’d dismissed me as having so little possibility of winning, and relief I could keep Tyrone as my assistant.

  Even if they could get someone else at this late date, I was a bargain for them. Because I lived in town, there were no travel expenses. I also didn’t have to stay at the hotel with the rest of the competitors, saving them more money.

  I’d heard Simon, Olivia, and the two show hosts were staying at the Mansion House Bed and Breakfast, a nineteenth-century mansion. I’d staged it before Geoff and Ron, the new owners, turned it into a B&B. This would be good publicity for them. Geoff and Ron probably already had the celebrities’ photos framed and ready to hang as soon as they checked out.

  How was I ever going to balance wanting to prove Olivia wrong about my ability to win and my desire not to?

  After my conversation with Olivia and meeting more people than I would ever remember, I decided to slip out. Heading for the exit, I saw Beth and Chris arguing in front of the elevator and held back to give them privacy. Fortunately, Beth soon turned and stalked away, and Chris headed in the opposite direction.

  Tomorrow would be the first day of the competition. I already found it exhausting.

  Chapter 7

  Start simple. Decide which room requires the most updating and begin there.

  Competition Day One

  Tyrone and I met in the warehouse parking lot early Monday morning. His look of excitement touched me. I was pleased he was going to have this opportunity—even if it didn’t make him the next Will Smith.

  “Hey, Laura. Ready for your first step toward TV stardom?” Tyrone looked at his reflection in his car window and smoothed his hair with both hands.

  “Now remember why we’re doing this,” I said. “Only for the publicity.”

  “If you say so.” Was he, like Nita, hoping I’d become the next home staging TV star? They had such faith in me.

  “Tyrone, before we go in, I need to tell you something. It’s nothing that serious,” I said in response to his concerned look. “The president of the college is going to be one of the competition judges. With you being a student there, it could get sticky if we win.”

  “Does that mean I need to drop out?” He looked like a boy who didn’t get the bike he’d wanted for his birthday. “Laura, if my involvement hurts your chances of winning, I’ll quit.”

  “No, no. When I told Olivia you’re a student at the college, she didn’t think it would be an issue.” Of course, she had been somewhat inebriated, and there was always the chance she might not remember our conversation. “She only asked that you not mention you’re a student there.”

  “Man, that’s a relief. My lips are sealed.” Tyrone mimicked turning a key next to his mouth.

  I hoped they stayed sealed. “Okay, let’s give them all we’ve got.”

  With that, we went through the loading dock entrance as directed.

  Josh stood inside, sporting a wide grin and acting as the welcoming landlord. Knowing Josh, it wouldn’t be long after the competition before he posted a sign noting his place as the competition site and started giving tours of the film set.

  “Hey, y’all.” Josh waved us over. “Stop on your way out, Laura, and take a look at the pieces I just got in.” He pointed to some furniture behind him. “There’s a fine-looking antique wooden trunk you might like.”

  My eyes lit up at the sight of it. I loved wooden trunks. They made great coffee and end tables and were perfect for storing blankets and afghans. “I’ll do that, Josh. Thanks. Any word on the, uh, other pieces you recently purchased?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Not yet. Probably never will.” He looked away to greet some others coming in. “Good luck today, y’all.”

  Tyrone and I joined several other people on the freight elevator, and I held the sides to steady myself, wondering when it had last been inspected.

  As we exited, Chris Channing aimed his camera at us. We were entering the world of television. The bright spotlight gave me a sense of standing on stage.

  Tyrone’s eyes widened, and he looked around, taking it all in. “Man, this is so cool.” He turned his head from side to side. “Which do you think is my best side?”

  “Both sides. Now remember, don’t get carried away.” I cautioned him. “It’s only temporary.”

  “Gotcha.” It was like he was experiencing his first circus—with seats in the center ring.

  Oh, dear. How was I ever going to pull Tyrone back down to earth after this? “And whatever you do, don’t mug for the cameras.”

  “Notta chance,” Tyrone said.

  “Competitors and assistants, this way.” Olivia waved us over to one side of the cavernous area where chairs lined up in cl
assroom fashion awaited us. We took a seat. This must have been how recruits felt upon reporting for military training, nervous about what would happen next.

  Robin and Luke, the celebrity hosts, stood nearby.

  “Have you seen Beth?” Olivia asked, checking her watch. “I can’t believe she’s late.”

  “Haven’t seen her.” Luke’s eyes wandered, looking unconcerned and uninterested. Robin shook her head.

  “Robin, call her. I need her here now.” Olivia scowled and surveyed the room. “We’ll just have to start without her.”

  Robin gave Olivia a withering look as though to remind her she was a guest star here, but she pulled out her cell and turned away to make the call.

  Olivia marched to the front of the assembled group, like a sergeant, ready to address the recruits. Her barrel-like build made her perfect for the role. All she lacked was an old-style megaphone in her hand.

  “Welcome, everyone.” A broad smile instantly replaced her perpetual scowl. “You’re in for a busy week, so please pay close attention. As you’ve learned from your information packet—if you chose to read it—you have five days to complete the competition.”

  That was one strike against me. I hadn’t received a packet. What other information had I missed?

  “Each of you will be assigned an area that resembles a large empty living room. The identical rooms contain obvious design challenges. You’ll stage the room for prospective homebuyers, considering design trends, proportion, comfort, etc. You all know the routine.

  “Furnishings, accessories, and other decor are stored on the third level of this building. After you take stock of the space, you’ll have time to look over everything available. We will issue you a cash card so you can purchase supplemental items from local stores. Keep your receipts to prove the items were purchased this week and not brought with you. Any questions?”