Page 119 of Mr. Fixer Upper
Instead, she’d made Becca watch each episode and give her the play-by-play.
Tonight would be the first episode she watched. And it was going to suck. Watching Meeghan strut out on set and lay those duck billed lips on Gannon like he was her property? Paige could think of several things she’d rather be doing right now. The list included getting a root canal and pap smear or having lunch at “the club” with her painfully conservative, half-deaf great-aunt Wilda who complained about the ‘disgraceful service’ at full volume.
But she had Gannon at her back, Cat at her side, and a fresh bourbon in her hand. She could get through anything.
Watching episodes with the cast, crew, and post-production was more entertaining than alone at home. Jokes and ribbing flew fast and furious. Even seeing her on-camera interviews wasn’t too horrific. And when Meeghan Traxx slid out of her SUV, there were more than a few boos thrown out around the bar.
It was a relief when it was over. Viewing it wasn’t quite as painful as living it, and Gannon’s firm grip on her hips kept her from running screaming.
Cheers went up around the bar when the final credits rolled. One of the production company honchos got up and made a toast thanking them all for their commitment and how they were all part of the same team. No one was buying it, but it was par for the course.
Gannon’s biggest fan Raymond caught up with her when she was putting her coat on.
“A really stellar season, sweetie,” he said gripping one of her hands between his two bear claw palms.
It was now or never. “I hear Andy is moving on to another show,” she said.
Raymond dropped her hand. “We’re hoping you’ll play a valuable part in the hiring process,” he said, cheerfully spouting words that they both knew had no meaning here.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Raymond. I’d like to be considered for director.” Trigger pulled.
Raymond looked at her like she was a little kid who had just announced she wanted to be a hot dog when she grew up. He screwed up his lined face in a mask of sympathy. “Well, the thing is, we need someone we can count on as a director.”
“What have I ever done that led you to believe I couldn’t be counted on? I was on set the day after the accident,” she reminded him.
“Well, now. I don’t want to embarrass you, but a little birdy told me you had to leave the set because of Meeghan.”
Paige took a cleansing breath in through her nose and out through her teeth gritted in a smile. “You did your best to humiliate me on camera all season long for ratings, and I stayed and did my job because I’m invested in the show, in the families we serve, and in the Kings.”
“That’s another consideration. I understand that you and Gannon have a relationship. But that doesn’t entitle you to director.”
“Just like it doesn’t entitle your college dropout nephew to a VP position in marketing?”
Raymond sputtered and blustered, but Paige plowed on. “Listen, Ray. Me not having a penis doesn’t hinder me from doing that job. Though the fact that Summit-Wingenroth has never hired a female director for any of its regular shows does make me wonder if you believe that genitalia is a requirement. I love working on this show, and I’ll be the best damned director you’ve seen on it yet if you give me the chance.”
“I really think we’d be more comfortable if you’d spend another year or two as field producer.”
“I wouldn’t be. It’s taking a step backward from where I am now, and you’ve been pleased with my work onKing’s Castle. So really what you have to decide is whether you want to look for a field produceranda director for next season or just a field producer.”
Raymond harrumphed, his cheeks flushed.
“Look, Raymond. I’m not trying to be a hard-ass here. I’m just telling you that I’m your best choice. You know it, I know it, and everyone in this room that I’ve worked with for two years knows it, too. Think about it.”
She patted him on the arm and strutted away.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
The chilled bottle of champagne was a spontaneous purchase as were the mouth-watering brownies she’d found in the tiny scrap of bakery the market offered. After all, they were celebrating. Tomorrow was reveal day. Gannon would have his new home all to himself once the crews packed up and went their separate ways.
Paige had volunteered to pick up dinner and enhanced her salad choices with a hearty beef stew and fresh rosemary rolls while trying not to think about the “separate ways” thing too much.
Things were moving fast. Gannon’s publicist had dropped the bomb that Meeghan and he had “parted ways several months ago”—a move that the production company had insisted waited until after the season finale aired—and that he and Paige were happily dating. Once the triangle was down to just two people, interest had cooled considerably. It was just days later that Summit-Wingenroth offered Paige director for season three of Kings. That news was followed immediately by the Welcome Home’s Network that Meeghan Traxx’s show was not being renewed for another season.
Paige tucked everything into her market bags and sent a wave to the clerk on her way out the door. It was a friendly shop in a cute neighborhood walking distance to Gannon’s apartment. The new house, too, she supposed. Just in the opposite direction.
She started down the block deciding she could pack mule everything back to the apartment without calling for a Lyft. The night was cold. Autumn had slipped away when they weren’t looking and left the icy bloom of winter in its place. Christmas was in less than two weeks, and Paige had maintained her tradition of ordering all her shopping online and having gifts shipped directly to the recipients.
Well, except for Gannon. She’d picked up a few items here and there for him. And then felt silly about it. They hadn’t even discussed Christmas. She didn’t even know if she’d see him on the day. They’d been so busy, so… committed. She’d spent more time with Gannon in the past weeks than she had any other person in her adult life. They worked side-by-side together all day into the night and then hurried back to his apartment for supper, showers, and sex.
