Chapter 20
VANCE
Lila and I sat together on the couch in Ethan’s office. He’d called us in, promising big news. I glanced at Lila. She appeared calm and put together, as usual. But I suspected that she was holding it together for the girls and maybe even me, when really she was a bundle of nerves.
“Okay, I have great news,” Ethan said. “The production company knows everything. The video and everything else.”
Lila stiffened. I slid my hand into hers.
“They’re terminating both Kenzie and Beau,” Ethan said. “Effective immediately. No statements, no on-air goodbyes. They’ve been offered severance packages and NDAs in exchange for keeping quiet.”
I leaned forward. “And they agreed?”
“Beau signed this morning. Kenzie’s pushing back, but they’ve got her cornered. If she doesn’t sign, she risks the network releasing the footage themselves.”
“What about Carol?” I asked. “She wasn’t in on it, but she certainly didn’t help.”
“They didn’t say, but I got the distinct feeling that she will be retiring early,” Ethan said.
Lila let out a long, quiet breath. “So it’s over.”
“For them,” Ethan said, folding his arms. “Not necessarily for you. They want to salvage the show. Rebrand it. Scrap the footage with Beau and rebuild around you.”
I felt Lila go very still beside me.
“They’re offering you full creative control. Final cut on your segments. Choice of a new co-host. Even dangling a potential spinoff if you want it.”
My stomach turned. This wasn’t right somehow. But it was not my decision to make. Lila had to decide for herself. And if she decided to dive into the madness of television, where did that leave me? By her side. I would support her, whichever direction she took.
“They must really want you,” I said.
Ethan nodded. “That seemed clear.”
“What about Vance’s house?” Lila asked.
Ethan slid a folder across the table. “They sweetened the deal by adding that the remodel would continue, as would filming. Only with a new contractor. This is the revised contract. NDA, nondisparagement clause, salary bump, creative authority—the works.”
Lila glanced over at me, uncertainty in her eyes.
“We’ll talk about it,” I said to Ethan. “And get back to you.”
“Great. I’ll be here when you’re ready,” Ethan said.
“What if I don’t want it anymore?” Lila asked.
Ethan didn’t miss a beat. “Then I’ll handle it for you. We can probably get them to buy you out in exchange for your silence about what really went on.”
“What about all the stuff in the press about me?” Lila asked. “They can’t fix that. Can they?”
“They assured me their PR firm will make sure you come out looking good,” Ethan said.
This offer could make her a star. Is that what she wanted? I couldn’t help but think about the girls. How much harder life would be for them if their mother was on television. Leading her life in front of the public was the sacrifice it took to do the work she wanted. Or did she?
I glanced over at her. She’d paled and her hand in mine had grown clammy.
“Let’s go to lunch,” I said to Lila. “And talk.”
We thanked Ethan for everything and promised we’d get back to him as soon as Lila had made her decision.
The Pelican was quiet at lunchtime on a Thursday. Most of the tourist crowd hadn’t arrived yet, and the locals who did come were settled at the bar or claiming their usual tables near the windows overlooking the water.
Hunter spotted us immediately and gestured toward the back corner—a booth tucked away from the main floor, private and quiet.
“Thanks,” I said as we slid in.
“On the house today,” Hunter said, his expression somber. He’d clearly seen the gossip sites. Everyone had. “Whatever you need.”
Lila managed a small smile. “Just water for now. And maybe some fries.”
“Same,” I said.
“Don’t let the idiots get you down,” Hunter said. “At the end of the day, it’s just gossip. Not your real life.”
The way he said it made me think he had experiences in his past that made him understand better than most. Hunter was an enigma. But for now, I set all that aside, and focused on my sweet Lila.
After Hunter left, Lila stared out at the ocean, her hands folded on the table. She looked exhausted. Not just tired but depleted of all energy. She hadn’t been sleeping well or eating enough. This madness had to stop before it damaged her permanently.
Regardless of what Lila wanted next, Kenzie and Beau were gone.
That should’ve felt like a victory. And it did.
Yet, there was the offer. Such an amazing opportunity.
One that would take her away from me and the girls.
Marriages of people in the public eye were notoriously hard.
Would we be able to weather whatever fame brought? Was that even what she wanted?
“Talk to me,” I said quietly. “What are you thinking?”
She let out a long breath. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I genuinely don’t know what to do.”
I waited, giving her space.
“Full creative control,” she said, still staring at the water. “Final cut. New co-host. It’s everything I thought I wanted when I started this. Recognition. Financial security. A real platform for my work.”
“But?”
“But it’s still the show. Still cameras.
Still producers and schedules and people in my business.
I keep having these dreams that I’m walking naked on the beach.
I don’t realize it at first until I look down and see I have no clothes on.
And I turn slowly to see everyone I know standing there—watching me. ”
“Not too hard to decipher that one, huh?”
“No.” She pressed her fingers to her temples.
“I don’t want to be gone all the time. Away from Mia.
Away from you. And Margot needs me. Probably more than you or Mia, actually.
She’s had such an unfair childhood so far.
It sounds egotistical to say but I know I’m key to her healing.
To entering adulthood confident, knowing she’s loved unconditionally. ”
I tried to hold it in, but her words made my eyes sting. A sob escaped from somewhere deep inside me. “Oh, Lila. Where did you come from?”
“Same place as you. A dating app.” She chuckled softly, reaching over to cover my hand with hers.
I swallowed back another sob. “Margot’s life is already better because you’re in it.
I agree. You’re key to the rest of her childhood.
Truth is—I need you. Margot needs you. Mia needs you.
That said, we can all survive even if you’re gone for some parts of the year.
We know we’re loved. And we’ll be there when you get back. ”
“I keep thinking about the money,” Lila said softly. “That salary would change everything for us. For Mia’s future. College, graduate school if she wants it. I wouldn’t have to worry about slow months or losing clients.”
“We don’t need it,” I said.
She looked at me sharply. “You don’t need it. But I—“
“Lila.” I leaned forward. “I have more money than I’ll ever spend.
If Mia needs college paid for, I’ll pay for it.
If you want to expand your studio, I’ll help.
If you need financial security, you have it.
Through me, yes, but also through your business.
You’re successful. You don’t need reality TV to prove that. ”
“I don’t want to be dependent on you.”
“You’d not be dependent. We’d be partners. There’s a difference.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Is there? Because that’s what I thought I had with Carter, and he just up and left.
Married someone else. Started fresh.” She dabbed at the corners of her damp eyes with her napkin.
“I’m scared to trust promises. Even from you.
I don’t know if I’d be able to start again if anything tore us apart.
Deep down, I know our best chance at a happy marriage would be …
for me to be home, not traveling up and down the coast.”
I stayed quiet. Agreeing with her but not wanting my input to sway her either way. Even though I desperately wanted her to choose me. Us.
“What if I’m just scared?” Lila asked. “What if I’m turning down this opportunity because I’m afraid I’ll fail? Afraid I’m not good enough for that world?”
“Is that what you think?” I asked carefully. “Or do you think maybe you’re just not built for that world? That it’s not failure to recognize what makes you happy?”
She was quiet, pulling apart her napkin with trembling fingers.
“Let me ask you something,” I said. “When you think about your life a year from now—really imagine it—what do you see? What does your best day look like?”
She was quiet for a moment. “I’m in my studio.
Working on a design for a client I actually like.
Someone local. Someone who trusts me and gives me creative freedom without cameras watching my every move.
” She paused. “Mia and Margot are at school, but they’ll be home that afternoon.
You’ll be waiting when I get done with work, and we’ll make dinner together—talk about our days, enjoy a glass of wine.
We’d eat dinner as a family, the girls spilling over with everything about their days.
Maybe they’d do homework while we clean up.
Or maybe we all do the dishes together, music playing.
All of us dancing or singing along with the record.
And then we’ll read or watch a movie and just spend time together.
Quiet. Happy. No one trying to take my photo. ”
My throat tightened. “That sounds perfect.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Her voice was wistful. “But is it enough? Is it foolish to choose that over fame and money and—“
“It’s not foolish to choose peace.” Or family. I kept that to myself.
“What if it’s not peace? What if it’s just fear?”
“Or maybe,” I said gently, “it’s wisdom. Knowing what you value. Knowing what makes you happy. Knowing who you really are.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m terrified of making the wrong choice.”
“What would wrong even look like?” I asked.