Page 87 of The Wish List
Tonight’s celebration was the culmination of a month of holiday activities in town, but Freya hadn’t considered being a part of it.
What business did she have celebrating the town she’d left behind?
But touring Magnolia with the crew had made her see the town in a brighter light than before. She knew hers wasn’t the only small town in America working to revitalize its community.
Would her segment highlighting the town bring new visitors who might want to experience the charm for themselves? And how many other places could benefit from a bit of national attention?
There were food network shows that made hotspot destinations of local eateries around the country. Renovation programs that could turn a sleepy town into a modern mecca. What about a show that focused on local perspectives on small towns?
With Freya as the host.
What if she could parlay her D-list fame into something that felt purposeful? If people saw her as more than a reality show star, would she feel comfortable also going after her dream of becoming a published author? She would be legitimate. Heck, her mother might finally see her as worthy of respect and love.
Mary Ellen had said May was proud, but Freya still had difficulty believing it.
What if she had options beyond the reality circuit that no longer held any appeal?
She entered the gallery, her entire body tingling with possibility, only to come up short as she practically ran smack into Christopher Greer.
“You’re here,” she announced as if he didn’t realize it.
His eyes lit in the special way that seemed directed only at her. “I had a meeting with Carrie.”
“During which I convinced him to help me with a book proposal,” a sweet voice announced. A tall woman, lean with caramel-colored hair and delicate—almost ethereal—features, came forward. “You must be Freya. I’m Carrie. I see you already know the most generous agent in all of publishing.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Greer said with a laugh. “I’ll let Avery know Freya is here.”
“My mom works with Greer,” Freya said, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy she had at the apparent affection between Greer and Carrie.
“Oh, yes. We’re so happy to hear that May is doing better.” Carrie offered a genuine smile. “She’s a treasure. I’m not sure how we didn’t know each other growing up.”
Freya tried to return the smile, although her buoyant mood from minutes earlier had started to sag. “My sisters and I went to school in the next district over for a year. Mom had an issue with the Magnolia schools at some point, so she moved us.” More like the Magnolia schools paid attention to attendance and parental involvement, which did not sit well with free-spirited, rule-defying May. “But then we transferred back because it was a headache for her to drive us across town.”
“That makes sense.” Carrie wrinkled her adorable nose. “I’ve read your mom’s book. I have a feeling she wouldn’t have been besties with my dad. He had the misogyny thing down to an art.” She raised her arms to the open, airy space surrounding them. There were framed paintings in several different styles on the walls, along with shelving at one end with various sculptures and blown glass items. “I do understand the irony of that statement.”
Freya felt her mouth relax into a real smile. “Oh, May would have showed him the error of his ways. I am certain of that. You mentioned a book. Are you an author as well as an artist?”
Carrie looked almost embarrassed. “I’m writing and illustrating a children’s book. It’s a lesson about the value of individuality and creative expression. Let’s just say I’m working out some childhood issues on the page. I’m not sure I would have had the courage to send it out to publishing houses without Greer’s support. I wish we could get him to stay in town year-round.” She chuckled. “Several single women I know wish the same thing.”
Once again, Freya tried to tamp down the jealousy that stabbed her lungs, making it hard to breathe. She had no claim on Christopher Greer. “Are you sure you can trust him? I don’t have much experience with literary agents, but the film and talent agents I know in Hollywood aren’t exactly well known for their honor and commitment to doing the right thing.”
“Hollywood isn’t a place I’d want to spend any time,” Carrie said. “You must be extremely strong to have navigated the entertainment business and remain down-to-earth and true to your roots.”
Freya blinked. “What makes you think I’m those things? You don’t know me.”
“Greer speaks highly of you. Beth, too, although I’ve only met your sister once or twice. But it’s clear that Greer thinks you’re the bee’s knees.”
Freya was saved from responding to that shocking bit of news when Greer and a cool blonde, who she assumed must be Avery Atwell, entered the gallery from a room in the back.
Her hackles immediately went up as she took in Avery’s slim-cut silk suit. She didn’t look half as kind and generous as Carrie, and Freya couldn’t imagine the woman needing help with anything.
Once again, Freya was mistaken in her snap judgment.
Avery approached and threw her arms around Freya. “You are a godsend. It’s going to be such an opportunity for the kids to have their artwork featured on national television.”
“It’s a reality show, and not exactly a well-respected one,” Freya pointed out. “I’m not really a celebrity.”
Avery tsked like a schoolteacher. “How many Instagram followers do you have?”
