Loving Jackson (Wishing Well, Texas #10) - Melanie Shawn Page 0,27

zero charisma and couldn’t read a teleprompter to save her life, but beggars couldn’t be choosers at this point.

“No.” Mia shook her head as she clicked through several more submissions.

We’d watched and rewatched all of our options. I knew that there was no one in the bunch that had everything that we were looking for.

“We can’t delay production,” I said out loud, mainly for my own benefit. I needed to remind myself that wasn’t an option. We only had Jackson for two weeks. I wasn’t sure what he had lined up after that, but I knew that he had a hard out.

Jackson. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since our “moment” at the water tower. Oh, who was I kidding? I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he’d picked me up from the airport. But it had gotten worse since I was ninety-nine percent sure that we would’ve kissed if I hadn’t gotten the message from Randy.

What would his lips taste like? Would they be firm or soft? Would he pull me close to him?

“I just wish I could do it.” Mia sank down in her dining room chair and let her head fall back. We’d met for breakfast at her house for our final production meeting before principal photography started, which was happening tomorrow. We were running out of time and options.

Besides being my producing partner, Mia was my closest friend. And she was pregnant. I hated that she was stressed, and I did feel like I was letting her down, but I just couldn’t do it.

“Wait!” Something—or I should say someone—I’d totally forgotten about popped into my mind. “What about Clancy? Her tape was amazing!”

Clancy was a local news reporter in Chicago whose reel we’d been sent by a friend who knew we were looking for a host. The only reason we didn’t initially go with her was because she didn’t have the same experience and following that Seraphina had. But I believed that she would do a better job. I’d totally forgotten about her because her tape hadn’t been in this round of submissions.

“Randy looked into it. Her station won’t let her out of her contract.”

“Damn.”

“Okay.” Mia sat up and slapped her hands on the table. “I know you keep shutting down the idea, but you should do it. You have everything we’re looking for in a host. People love you and they love opening up to you. Do you remember the time at CVS when that woman went into graphic detail about her yeast infection and the sort of sex she was having so as not to aggravate it?”

“That’s a conversation I’ll never forget.” It’s not every day that a complete stranger tells you that she and her boyfriend are doing anal to avoid a feminine issue.

“And that time we were at The Phantom of the Opera and you missed the entire second half because at intermission you asked a man if he was okay and he ended up telling you how he’d lost his wife to cancer but he’d bought the tickets for her birthday. That was ten years ago, but I bet you still remember his name.”

“Greg, he lost his wife Naomi. We keep in touch on Facebook.” I smiled. “He just became a grandpa. His son had a baby girl and they named her Naomi.”

“Do you see what I’m saying?” Mia’s arms flew up. “And I have dozens of stories like that. You have this magical way with people and I think the magic is that you actually care.”

“It’s not magic, and everyone cares.”

“No.” Mia shook her head, her eyes widening. “They absolutely do not. I promise you. Most people only care about themselves and maybe a handful of other people. Not strangers that they meet at the store or a Broadway play.

“You have a degree in communications, and I read your college admission paper, remember? You said that you wanted to be the next Oprah or Barbara Walters.”

That was before House of Love and everything that came after. “You know why I can’t.”

“No, Josie, I honestly don’t.” Mia shook her head. “That was so long ago. You can’t let it define your entire life, can you?”

Up until now, I’d always loved that Mia always said exactly what she felt, even if it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. But right now, I wasn’t a fan of her tough love. Her words hit me like a slap in the face, because the truth was, I had let

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