Page 70 of The Mistletoe Makeover

“You think I’m hot?” I ask, and she glances away quickly.

“That’s what all the magazines say.”

“So you’re stalking me online now? I thought you didn’t do that,” I say, giving her an amused grin.

“I’ve looked up a few things since I started working for you,” she admits.

“But that still doesn’t answer whetheryouthink I’m hot.”

She shrugs. “You’re okay.”

“Just okay? That’s not what you said before. You saidhot.”

She throws up her hands in defeat. “You’re hot, all right? A woman would have to be blind not to notice.” Then she leans toward me. “What I want to know is why your agent thought you needed a makeover.”

“I was too clean cut,” I say. “He wanted me to look like a rock star. You know, the bad boy image. So I changed my wardrobe and dated a bunch of celebrities so people could see me at important parties.”

She frowns. “Is that why you’re in the news a lot?”

“In this industry, all press is good press. But after last year, I don’t think so.”

She tilts her head. “Did his advice work?”

“At first. But when I met Ava, things changed. I didn’t want the bad boy image anymore. I didn’t care about parties. Maybe that’s why the press kept following us. I was trying to stay out of their way. The more I resisted, the more they hunted me down.”

Her eyes flick to me, like she’s thinking this over, but treading carefully. “Is that why you broke up?”

“Not exactly,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, not wanting to explain what happened. “But it made it worse. The press blew up the whole thing.”

“That’s terrible, Jace,” she says, holding my gaze. “Just for the record, I don’t think your career is over. I bet there are people willing to give you another try. If you still want to make over your image, you should.”

“What are you, my PR person now?” I laugh.

“Not me. But my brothers know a professional hockey player who got himself into a mess with a girl, and he turned things around with a PR makeover.”

“How?” I ask, curious.

“He showed up at some charity events with a friend, a gal nobody knew.”

“And it worked?”

Mia nods. “She was the one who turned him into everybody’s favorite hockey player.”

“I’m not sure this Christmas concert is going to help.”

“All I know is hiding in your house is definitely not doing you any favors.”

When I glance at Mia, I get an idea: What if she helped me with my PR solution? What if we went out a few times and made people think there was something going on? There’s a reason our slow dance video went viral. “If our charade worked on Ava in Evergreen, then why wouldn’t it work here?”

Her head snaps up. “Wait. I wasn’t volunteering forthat.”

“I meant for fun. That’s what we agreed to, right? To have more fun?”

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “Yes, but...” She rises from the table, carrying her empty plate to the kitchen. “Maplewood is different. I know people here. And what happened in Evergreen, stays in Evergreen.”

“Mia,” I say, following her. “That’s because they forced us into an awkward situation. In Maplewood, we can attend a few festival events together as friends. No strings attached.”

Mia freezes, her plate still in hand, eyes narrowed. “For your PR makeover?”

---