Brown-Eyed Girl (Travis Family #4)(70)

“Give me the remote,” Ree-Ann said. “I want to see it again.”

I shook my head emphatically. “I’m going to delete it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tank told Ree-Ann. “The station will put it on their website.”

Joe closed his hand over the remote and removed it carefully from my grip. His gaze was lit with amused sympathy.

“I want to be elegant like Judith Lord,” I told him plaintively.

“Avery, there are a million Judith Lords out there, and only one you. You were beautiful and funny on that program, and you gave off the energy of someone who was having a hell of a good time. You accomplished everything Judith Lord did, except that you were a lot more entertaining.” Joe handed the remote to Steven and took my hand. “Come on, I’m taking you out for dinner.”

By the time he and I had reached the front door, they had rewound the interview and were watching it again.

Returning to the studio a couple of hours later, Joe and I encountered Sofia and Steven, who were on their way out to eat.

Sofia was happy and animated, almost illuminated from within. That undoubtedly had something to do with the fact that she and Steven had recently started sleeping together. Sofia had divulged to me that, unlike Luis, Steven knew about foreplay. I could tell from seeing them together that everything was going very, very well. In fact, Sofia and Steven treated each other with a kindness that I wouldn’t have expected, given their past animosity. They had once looked for thousands of small ways to hurt each other, searching for each other’s weaknesses. Now they seemed to share an uncomplicated joy in being unguarded with each other.

“Do you feel better?” Sofia asked, hugging me as I walked in.

“Actually, yes,” I said. “I’ve decided to put that stupid television show behind me and pretend it never happened.”

“I’m afraid you can’t do that,” Sofia said, delight glimmering in her hazel eyes. “The producer called this morning and said you’re all over their Twitter feed, and everyone loves you. And a half-dozen people have asked about adopting Coco.”

I picked up the Chihuahua protectively. Her dry little tongue swiped at my chin.

“I told them we’d think about it,” Sofia continued, her gaze teasing.

Within a week, the segment had been picked up by the station’s national affiliate. The schedule at the studio was crammed with appointments, and both Steven and Sofia were insisting that we needed to hire more people.

On Friday afternoon, I received a text from my friend Jasmine, a command to call her instantly.

Although I always loved talking with Jasmine and hearing about her life in Manhattan, I was reluctant to dial her. If she’d seen the interview, I was certain she disapproved. Jazz had always said it was imperative that a woman maintain a professional façade no matter what. No crying, no displays of anger, no loss of composure. A television appearance in which I had cursed, carried around a Chihuahua, and ended up with buttercream on my boobs was not what Jazz would consider an appropriate work persona.

“Did you see it?” I asked as soon as Jasmine said hello.

“Yes, you hot shit. I saw it.”

That surprised a laugh out of me. “You didn’t hate it?”

“It was fabulous. Like a perfectly timed sitcom. You owned the screen. You and that little dog – what’s her name?”

“Coco.”

“I never knew you were a dog person.”

“I didn’t either.”

“The part with the cake – did you plan that?”

“Good Lord, no. I’ll never live it down.”

“You don’t want to live it down. You want to do more of that.”

I frowned, puzzled. “What?”

“Remember that opportunity I told you about a while back, the one for Rock the Wedding?”

“The Trevor Stearns show.”

“Yes. I sent them your résumé and portfolio, and the video, and never heard back from them. They’ve interviewed dozens of candidates, and as far as I know, they’ve auditioned three. But they’re not one hundred percent happy with any of them, and Trevor is going to freak out if they don’t find someone soon. The host not only has to be capable of the job, she also has to have the thing. That quality that makes it impossible to take your eyes off her. So a couple days ago, one of the producers, Lois, saw the YouTube video, with you and – sorry, what’s the dog’s name again?”

“Coco,” I said breathlessly.

“Right. Lois saw that and sent the link to Trevor and the others, and they died. They took another look at your résumé, and now they think you’re exactly what they’ve been looking for. They want to meet you. They’re going to bring you up here for an interview.” Jasmine paused. “You’re quiet,” she said impatiently. “What are you thinking?”

“I can’t believe it,” I managed to say. My heart was pounding.

“Believe it!” Jasmine cried triumphantly. “Now that I’ve told you, I’ll give your contact info to Lois, and she’ll arrange a flight. Trevor’s in L.A., but the Rock the Wedding producers are in Manhattan, and they’re the ones you’ll talk to initially. We’ll have to get you an agent – we won’t be able to find anyone in time for the first meeting, but that’s okay at this stage. Don’t make any commitments or promises. Just let them get to know you, and listen to what they have to say.”