Page 3 of Mr. Fixer Upper
Paige peeked at her watch. “What can we consume in twenty-five minutes?”
Cat wrinkled her nose, and then her face lit up.
“Hot dog cart,” they said in unison.
Paige laughed. “What about your brother?” The conference room door was closing behind them but not before she caught Gannon’s voice rumbling over two words that gave her the chills. “Meeghan Traxx.”
“He’s got business to take care of,” Cat said with a wave of her hand. “Let’s go eat terrible things and catch up.”
Paige stashed her bag and papers in an empty cubicle, and they took the elevator down. They found a vendor around the corner and headed into the park, loaded hot dogs in hand. The early spring sunshine immediately lifted Paige’s spirits.
“Oh sweet Jesus, this is delicious,” Cat said rolling her eyes heavenward.
Paige muttered in agreement as she worked her way through a mouthful of sauerkraut. “I don’t know how you eat like that and look the way you do,” Paige grumbled. Cat had two inches on Paige’s five-foot-seven and was built like a damn ballerina.
“Please. Pot. Kettle.”
“Yeah, I’m going to spend an hour and a half in the gym tonight regretting this. You’re probably going to go home and eat six pounds of fettuccini.”
Cat patted her flat stomach. “Good genes and liposuction.”
“You’re such a liar,” Paige accused.
“I’ve been assured that it will catch up with me, and when it does, I’ll look like the adorable Italian meatball my nonni is.”
“As long as it evens out in the end,” Paige waxed philosophically.
Cat shot rapid-fire questions as they walked and ate. “So how was your break? Holidays good?”
“Yep. How about yours?”
“Crazy and hectic, but awesome. Are you seeing anyone yet?”
Paige rolled her eyes.
“I’ll take that as a big fat no.” Cat’s platinum ponytail swung rhythmically. In her skinny jeans, boots, and tunic sweater she looked like she had just strolled away from a photo shoot.
“You know what my schedule’s like. I’m too busy for men.” Paige crumpled her napkin and tossed it in a trashcan as they passed.
Cat shoved the last bite in her mouth. “Your priorities are out of whack.”
“I can’t understand you with all that meat in your mouth.” Paige teased.
“Oh!” Cat high-fived her. “Nicely done. Now, back to me pressuring you to date or at least get laid. You’re a beautiful, young woman, Paige. It’s a crime to keep all this—” she gestured at Paige’s chest, “buttoned up.”
“You’re ridiculous. Please tell me you’re not seeing anyone right now.” Cat had a history of falling head over heels for the occasional unworthy man who proceeded to break her heart or piss her off. The whole cycle usually lasted around three weeks, and when it happened during filming, havoc was wreaked.
“Nope. Mama’s going through a dry spell. Want to be lesbians?”
“Well, itwouldbe more convenient on the road,” Paige mused. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”
“The middle.”
“Nope. It would never work. I can’t be crowded under the covers.”
Cat sighed. “Fine. I’ll go back to men. Distrustful and confusing though they may be.”
“Speaking of confusing, what’s with you and Gannon crashing the production meeting?”
