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oxymoron,” Liam said.
    â€œWell, Charly—” Mr. Day began.
    â€œMr. Day,” she interrupted, cutting him off. She stood and placed both of her hands on his desk, then leaned forward. “Our ratings are high—at least they were for the last shows—the one that me and Liam hosted, and the reruns too. We don’t want to lose that. Do we?”
    â€œWell—” Mr. Day began.
    â€œNo, we don’t,” Charly said, cutting him off again. “Besides, we gave you what you wanted and what my dad demanded. We got a hot show on our hands and, as you know, I didn’t come here—”
    Mr. Day slammed his hand down on his desk, the pound making the room grow quiet. “Charly! Please? You didn’t come here for nothing . You’ve been telling me that forever now. I know!” He laughed, and the staff relaxed under his grin. “If you didn’t have so much spunk—and that mouth—you would’ve let me finish.” He looked at Liam, then back to Charly. He winked. The other man clapped. “You and you”—he said, pointing to Charly, then Liam—“have just solved our dilemma. We wanted a new twist—that’s what we were meeting about when you disappeared and went to the bathroom—and you delivered it.”
    â€œSo how do you propose we do it?” the other man asked.
    Liam sat up. He shrugged. “Easy, mate. You’re the network, so network it. Run a couple of ads—radio and on the telly, and have someone nominated.”

2
    TALLULAHVILLE
POPULATION 1,257
    Â 
    C harly settled against the backseat of the town car, and prepared for the second leg of her trip. They were going to Tallulahville, a town just outside of Minneapolis, Minnesota, which was sixty-plus miles from civilization and the airport. The flight from New York had been uneventful, but, as usual, she couldn’t sleep on the plane, and was now anxious and tired. She was excited about the upcoming show, and couldn’t wait to begin the drab-to-fab makeover, but sleep was calling her. She yawned and stretched. She needed rest now more than ever. Nia, the winner of the contest, who had no idea she was getting a total overhaul or that she had even been entered into a contest, had been called difficult and resistant. From the pictures Charly had seen, she knew Nia was going to be a heavy project, but she was up for the challenge, which would begin as soon as her feet touched the pavement. Charly looked at her watch, calculating time and distance. If she guessed correctly, that meant she had at least an hour to nap, if she were lucky. She didn’t have long to work her magic, but she wouldn’t complain. She’d get the task done, and was thankful the opportunity had come. It’d taken almost a month for the studio to select a winner, but finally the time had come for Charly to show the world her other gift: the ability to make over someone from the inside. She opened the folder sitting on her lap, and looked at Nia’s photos that had been submitted with her other information. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, and from what Charly could see, it was a yucky dull-brown that bordered on dirty looking. Her eyes were large, outlined with barely there lashes, and her heart-shaped face held not an ounce of love, but was weighed down by brows that looked inherited from Bert from Sesame Street, and a jagged scar was on her cheek. In one phrase, Charly summed her up: She looked as if she’d been dipped in frown juice. Charly shook her head, realizing how big a task she’d be undertaking soon. But she could do it. Somewhere under the weary mask of depression the girl Nia wore, Charly was sure there lived a pretty girl. Nia was plain and drab, but workable. Charly was certain she could snatch Nia out of the hole she’d climbed into after surviving a terrible car accident that’d left her face and confidence scarred as her