Page 7 of Mr. Fixer Upper
Gannon’s head whipped around on his neck as if it were possessed. He zeroed in on the lanky guy in ripped up jeans and a Clawson Construction fleece who strutted up to Paige and the GC. He couldn’t hear what he said, but the guy had Paige laughing and looking up at him like he was a fucking comedian.
“Yep. Good thing you’re not into her,” Cat said, hopping off the chair and patting his shoulder.
Muttering under his breath, Gannon decided to muscle in on their little pow-wow. He was the host of the show. He should know what was going on. He stepped over cables and around one of the two production assistants their little crew boasted.
“Hey, Mike, right?” he said offering his hand to the burly bearded contractor. “I’m Gannon. We talked on the phone.”
Mike’s ham-sized fist closed around his in a hearty handshake. “Good to finally meet you, Mr. King” Mike said with the quick grin of an actual morning person.
“It’s just Gannon.”
“I was just telling Paige here how excited we are to get started. The Russes are personal friends, good people.”
“Well, Paige will make sure we do a good job for your friends,” Gannon promised, sliding an arm around Paige’s shoulders and hauling her up against his side. She stiffened under his touch. “She does a great job puppet mastering chaos.”
“We’ve certainly been impressed so far,” Mike agreed. “This is my son, Brandon,” he said, jerking his thumb at the guy in the fleece.
“Brandon,” Gannon offered his hand. He put a little extra power into the shake. “Paige and I are looking forward to working with you both. Clawson Construction has a solid rep.”
“What the hell was that?” Paige hissed, sliding out from under his arm when the Clawsons headed over to talk with their crew.
“What was what?” Gannon asked, all innocence.
She didn’t answer him. Someone needing something chirped in the earpiece of her headset. Paige adjusted the mic and told them she’d be right there. “Behave yourself,” she said, pointing a warning finger at Gannon.
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They had a pre-shoot meeting for the production team and both the Clawson and the King crews. Director Andy Sanders walked everyone through what they planned to accomplish that morning and then Paige took her crew aside to cover the finer points. It was a good, solid team. Traveling reality shows couldn’t afford the expense or headache of large crews, which meant much of their team played two or three roles to cover all their bases.
They had three camera operators, Tony, Ricardo—Rico for short—and Louis. Felicia was the sound mixer knocking on twenty years of experience. Mel and Sam were the fresh-faced production assistants who doubled as camera assistants and generally indispensable gophers.
Paige covered all the loose ends that were left over acting as production coordinator and assistant director. Andy liked to joke that she knew more than he did and should have been named director. It wasn’t really a joke, though. It was tough to break into the boys club, not that Paige would let that stop her. She had plans to get there.
The sun was up, the Russes and their extended family had arrived on site, and they were ready to roll. Satisfied that everyone knew what his or her job was, Paige did one last check-in with the family. They were clumped together in the Russes’ living room, nerves evident on all the adult faces. Trevor was in tears. “But I wanna wear it!” His wails added to the tension.
“What the hell’s going on in there, St. James? Stop pinching the kids,” Andy’s voice crackled in her ear.
“Gimmie a minute,” she murmured before cutting her mic. Trevor slid out of his mother’s arms and stomped over to Paige.
“Hey, buddy. Are you ready for the big day?” she asked.
“Mom says I can’t wear ’dis but I hafta!” Trevor ran his little hands over the toy tool belt he wore on his hips. “I’m gonna help build Pop-Pop’s house!”
“Wow, you came prepared,” Paige told him.
“He hid it under his jacket,” his mom sighed, running a hand through Trevor’s hair. “We’ll make sure he doesn’t wear it on camera.”
That statement started the tears again.
Paige dropped down to her knees on the orange shag carpeting that was in its last hours of existence. “This tool belt is awesome, and I think Gannon is going to be really impressed.”
Trevor wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and leaned morosely against his mother’s leg. “Yeah?”
Paige nodded. “Definitely. But listen, since we’re supposed to be surprising you, you have to pretend that you didn’t know we were coming. So you wouldn’t have your tool belt on yet.”
He frowned at her, his blue eyes thoughtful.
“But when we give Gannon and Cat the tour of the house, I think it would be awesome if you put the belt on to help show them around.”
