Page 116 of Mr. Fixer Upper
Her copious amount of research was being fined down and organized into a useable storyboard for the film. Her list of interview commitments was growing. And he liked being part of it all.
He’d come home after a beer with Flynn the other night only to be accosted at the front door by a bouncing Paige. She’d landed a commitment from a highly respected women’s rights activist she’d thought was out of their league. And Gannon, with his newfound knowledge of women’s rights pioneers, recognized not only the woman’s name but also several of her more notable accomplishments.
They’d celebrated with pizza and wine and Cat at Nonni’s. And as they laughed around the dining room table, Gannon realized he had everything he’d ever wanted. A brainy, sexy, stubborn woman who made him want to be a better man, one his grandmother and sister adored. A home designed to be the springboard into the beginning of the rest of his life. He had a thriving business that kept him engaged and interested and a fledgling furniture venture on the side. He worked with his hands, made things that became a part of family histories.
He had everything.
He just needed to freaking lock that shit down.
And besides Paige herself, there was only one other complication he could see fucking everything up.
The season finale ofKings of Constructionwas airing tomorrow night, which meant a viewing party with cast, crew, and suits at some swank hotel bar. The event was casual—no cameras, no Meeghan Fucking Traxx ambushes. But there would be plenty of shoptalk and ass kissing and other bullshit. Post-production had run with the love triangle storyline, which unfortunately played great with viewers. Attention on social media had ramped up steadily as the season progressed, and Gannon was predicting it would get even worse with the finale.
As far as he knew, Paige had been so buried in the new show and her documentary planning that she hadn’t noticed the attention.
But there’d be no protecting her from it tomorrow when they aired the footage of Meeghan crashing the set. And that pissed him off.
He wasn’t sure how Paige would play it. She’d managed to run this new show without too much interference from the production company that had screwed her over for entertainment. But going face-to-face with the shot callers tomorrow night felt like it was just asking for a fucking disaster.
His first instinct was to charge in there and threaten the shit out of everyone. It seemed to have finally worked with Meeghan. But as gratifying as that would be, it would create more issues for Paige than solve. Paige needed to stand on her own two feet and flash her own two middle fingers. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be standing right behind her ready to kick ass should she ask him to.
Gannon hoped to God she would stand up for herself and take a few swings while she was up there.
He had to have faith, be patient. Two things that weren’t anywhere near the top of his list of strengths. He shook his head, standing in the doorway of the master bedroom. He’d taken her here for their second first time. They’d christened nearly every room in the house since then. But he had more plans for her. Bigger ones. They just had to get through tomorrow night.
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Paige steeled herself when the car rolled up to the hotel on West 46thStreet. She wiped her palms on the skinny slate gray trousers she’d decided on. She would know everyone in the room, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was wandering into a lion’s den.
The men who had pulled her strings all season long were behind the towering glass doors, probably swilling $60 glasses of scotch at the bar and patting themselves on the back for another hit season.
But they weren’t expecting the new Paige. And that would play to her advantage. The new Paige had made her first appearance last month at the St. James Thanksgiving, an intimate, catered affair at her mother’s house. In no uncertain terms, Paige had told both her mother and sister that she was dating Gannon and would be launching her new career as a documentary filmmaker. They were welcomed to agree or disagree with her choices because their opinions carried no weight. Her mother had icily changed the subject, but her sister had subtly raised her wine glass to Paige.
Paige considered tonight just another battle in the war.
She was meeting Gannon here, a tactical choice. She wasn’t here to look like arm candy. She was here to kick ass. She hadn’t yet told the brass that she wasn’t coming back next season and why. The pay and experience from Gannon’s new show gave her enough security that she could afford to walk away fromKings of Constructionrather than sticking it out another season. She was done being pushed around, and they were about to find that out.
She stepped out onto the sidewalk and tied the belt of her wool trench tighter, warding off the December chill that was determined to settle into bones. Her red Mary Jane stilettos made a confident click as she approached the doors. The doorman, his cheeks rosy from the brisk air, let her in with a wink and a smile.
Fortified by the friendliness of a stranger, her choice of outfit, and her own inner rage, Paige was more than ready to face the enemy.
She strolled into the back bar, which Summit-Wingenroth had reserved, and ordered herself a bourbon. Glass in hand, she slipped out of her coat and joined the party heading straight for her crew clustered around two high-top tables near the other end of the bar.
It was like old home week catching up with Louis and Rico. Louis just found out he was going to be a grandpa for the first time and was flashing the sonogram like it was an Oscar for cinematography. Rico had returned, relaxed and ready for a new project after two weeks bumming around Cancun’s hotel zone.
Mel and Sam regaled Paige with behind-the-scenes stories from their respective new projects and fished for details on her love life until Cat rescued her.
Ever fashionable in black leather leggings and a body hugging sweater in a shade of burnt orange that no other human being could pull off, Cat dragged her back to the bar for another drink.
“Holding up?” she asked, waving her empty glass at one of the bartenders.
“So far so good. Haven’t screamed ‘I quit’ or kicked anyone in the face yet.”
Cat glanced down at Paige’s shoes. “Ooh, good choice.”
Within seconds, a fresh drink was placed in front of Cat despite the fact that her drink order fell behind several others. Paige grinned. “You ever get tired of being adored by millions?” she asked.
The flippant response she expected from her friend didn’t come. Cat looked over both shoulders and then pulled her into a corner away from the rest of the party.
