Page 12 of Mr. Fixer Upper
The sun was still up when Paige dumped her laptop on the lumpy bed in her room at the Comfy Inn in Mobile, Texas. They were on their third house of the season, and their little band of misfits was really hitting their stride. They’d scored yet another gold mine of a contractor for this house, and Paige was looking forward to working with their crew.
She flopped down in the rickety desk chair and surveyed her room. They’d checked in this morning, and Paige had lobbed her bags into the room before heading back out to the site to tackle the prep work.
The room wasn’t awful. It could have been worse. The walls, once white, wore the yellowed cast of its storied past as a smoker’s paradise. The carpet too wore badges of honor in the form of cigarette burns. But the bathroom was clean, and there were extra pillows in the closet.
It would do for the week.
Paige stripped out of her jeans and t-shirt and pulled on a clean pair of capris and a tank top. She texted Cat to see if she wanted to do dinner and then pulled the bedspread back before flopping down on the mattress.
She closed her eyes and reviewed the details about the new family. Joy, at twenty-seven with her sunny smile and dirty blond pixie cut, raised enough money through 5ks, bake sales, and silent auctions to bring an art and pet therapy program to her local nursing home after her grandfather was diagnosed with dementia. She dedicated every waking moment outside of her full-time job as a social worker to caring for her beloved Poppy.
Poppy had played matchmaker and introduced Joy to the visiting physical therapist who volunteered at the home twice a week. Joy and Teagan were married in Poppy’s room when he fell too sick to attend their ceremony. He passed away shortly after their ceremony, leaving Joy and Teagan the home he’d built with his own two hands when he and his bride were first married. It had fallen into disrepair since his diagnosis, but the family connection made it home.
It was a sweet, heartwarming story, and Paige was looking forward to telling it.
Her phone signaled an incoming call, and she rolled herself up. Eddie’s name flashed across her screen.
“What’s up, Eddie?” she asked, bypassing any pleasantries. He trusted her to do her job and only called when there was news—usually bad—to deliver.
“Bad news, kid.”
Restless now, Paige dragged open the sliding glass balcony door. It squealed under protest. She stepped out onto her narrow strip of outdoor living space overlooking the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. A flimsy wall that separated her balcony from the one next door provided minimal privacy. “What’s the damage?” she asked leaning on the iron railing.
“Interiors at Home just came on board.”
The show and the chain of home décor stores had been courting each other in the off-season. They were a major advertiser, which meant a big influx of cash and most likely some pretty spectacular demands.
“What do they want in return for their massive piles of money?” Paige sighed into the phone.
“Cat and Gannon now get to make a trip to the store every episode to choose pieces for the finished project.” Eddie was big on ripping the Band-Aid off.
Paige slapped a hand down on the railing, making it rattle. Judging its instability, she took a step back from it and paced. “Are you kidding me, Eddie? Are they trying to strangle every ounce of sincerity out of the show? Viewers love how real Gannon and Cat are. This is going to make them look phony.”
“I know. I know. But it was the keystone of the contract.”
“That’s bullshit, Eddie. Can’t you change their minds? Gannon’s going to go nuclear over this, and I don’t blame him. It’s a stupid idea.”
“At this point there’s nothing we can do. The deal is done.”
Paige shoved a hand through her hair, scraping it away from her face. “I don’t like that these decisions are being made without at least consulting the Kings. It’s their show. They are the show.”
Eddie heaved the world-weary sigh of a man too long in the business. “I hear what you’re saying, kid. I really do. But…”
“Yeah, yeah. There’s nothing we can do,” she finished for him.
“When does this go into effect?”
“This shoot. There’s a store about a hundred miles from the shoot.”
Paige swore under her breath. “How much time per episode?”
“Three minutes, and the pieces shown in the store have to be used in the reveal.”
“Who’s breaking the news? You or me?”
Eddie’s pause told her everything she needed to know. “Great. Awesome.”
“So, how’s everything else?” Eddie asked cheerfully.
