Then six months ago he'd moved back to Austin, and the Drysdale Mansion had loomed before him, its potential promising him a way out along with a way to make the house his.
So yesterday, he'd called Gregory and pitched the show. Mansion Makeover. The terms were simple. Spencer would pay the mortgage on the house, but the show would fund the renovations.
It was a long shot, Spencer knew. And yesterday, he was prepared to walk away from the Drysdale Mansion if the network said no. Today, however, rejection would slice right through his heart. If the network declined, Spencer had no idea what he'd do; all he knew was that he'd have to figure out another way to claim the house as his own.
Which meant that Gregory's announcement that the network was interested in Spencer's proposal was pretty much the best news that Spencer had ever heard.
"They understand that title will be held in my name," he asked. "And that if they want me to do the show, they need to either fund the renovation themselves or find a sponsor for the materials and tools. I'm talking flooring, tile, glass, appliances, plumbing. The full meal deal. They understand that, right?"
"They understand," Gregory confirmed. "And they're on board."
"But?" Spencer pressed because he knew his agent well by now, and he'd heard the instant of hesitation in Gregory's voice.
"A minor detail," Gregory said, his tone suggesting it wasn't minor at all.
"Don't pull that shit with me, Gregory. Don't try to handle me or tell me what I'm supposed to think of the network's bullshit demands."
"They'll give you the show," Gregory said. "And you'll get clear title to the house."
Spencer felt his gut tighten. "But?"
"But they want Mansion Makeover on a new contract."
"A new contract? But I already owe them a show. Why not--"
"Because they already know what show they want you to do. And if you don't agree, they don't green light the mansion project."
"The hell with that," Spencer said. "Talk them out of it."
"How long have I been working with you? Come on, Spence, don't make me out to be an asshole. You know I've already tried that."
Fuck. "What show?"
"No idea. Just that they have a short-season show for you to do with a co-star, and it centers around remodeling a local bar. So it's there in Austin. Makes it easier."
"Dammit, Gregory. You know how I feel about all this. I want out. You want to represent me on a book deal, knock yourself out. But I'm done with being a pretty face on television."
"Then unless you have some serious dollars squirreled away, you can say goodbye to the Drysdale Mansion."
"So you're saying I'm screwed." He drew in a frustrated breath. "Shit. All I want--"
"I know what you want. I also know the situation. You don't have the money to buy out your contract. You're staring at a house that's a shithole but has the potential to be fucking amazing. And all you have to do to get that house is a short season with a partner. I don't see that as screwed, my friend. I see that as golden."
Spencer opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. It wasn't ideal, that was for damn sure. But maybe Gregory was right. Maybe it was worth it.
"Talk to them. They're in town, and they want a meeting tomorrow. Come on, Spence. It's a small price to pay."
"Fine. I'll talk to them," he said. "What's the location? And for that matter, who are they setting me up with?"
"The location's a bar called The Fix on Sixth," Gregory said, and Spence grunted with approval. "You know it?"
"Solid place. I've gone in a couple of times for drinks and appetizers. The building's got good bones, but there's definitely room for improvement."
"Well, there you go. Something you can sink your teeth into. I'll tell them you're--"
"Who?" Spence asked, the firmly stressed syllable underscoring the import of the question. "Did they tell you who they're pairing me with?"
"Does it matter? You need this, Spence. If you want to restore the Drysdale Mansion, we both know this show is the only way it'll happen."