Page 19 of Mr. Fixer Upper
“Ugh. Okay,” Paige finally agreed, yanking her hand out from under his. Gannon leaned in, all ears.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she demanded.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re going to take a bite out of me.”
“See how much fun it is to say what’s on your mind?”
She cleared her throat, ready to deliver a lecture. “Gannon, I need you to behave. I’m not about to start flirting with the star of my show. I’ve worked my ass off getting here, and I’m not going to have that derailed by people starting rumors about me and… you.”
“Iambehaving,” he argued. “I’m just waiting for my assistant director to stop stalling and tell me what she wants to do with her life that’s not reality TV.”
She dropped her head back against the seat. “No outward reaction whatsoever,” she reminded him.
“None,” he confirmed.
“I want to produce and direct.”
Gannon didn’t move a muscle. Paige met and held his gaze, but he didn’t break. She looked away and primly opened her book. Her disinterest in his reaction lasted all of thirty seconds.
She slammed the book shut. “Okay. I’ll allow a small reaction.”
“Then that would be ‘duh.’”
“Duh?”
Gannon shrugged. “You should already be a director. You had two years on Andy, and I like the guy, but the only reason he got it and you didn’t is because he’s got a dick and family relations. You end up doing half of his job anyway.”
Paige blinked.
“Cat and I pulled for you this season, but Andy’s the nephew of one of the suits, and they’re grooming him for one of the bigger shows.”
“Well, hell.” Paige’s breath whooshed out of her, tension slipping from her slim shoulders.
“It’s a tough industry for women,” Gannon said. “The network wanted to give Cat her own design special between seasons, and she turned it down because she didn’t feel confident enough to demand to call the shots yet.”
He could see Paige’s wheels turning. “It’s hard to imagine Cat with a confidence crisis,” she mused.
“She wanted a little more experience under her belt before she said yes to anything else. She enjoys all this a lot more than I do. Eventually, I’ll get back to just contracting, but I think she’ll make this a long-term career.”
Paige cocked her head, a smile playing on her pink lips. “You know, I’m not regretting our seating arrangement as much as I thought I would,” she admitted.
Gannon laughed softly. “I’ll cherish that compliment always. So what do you want to produce?”
“What makes you think it’s not a reality show?”
“Ha,” he snorted. “You have about as much tolerance as I do for the shit. You’re just too professional to show it.”
She didn’t bother confirming or denying, but Gannon knew he was right.
“I’m still working on what kind of project I want,” she told him.
She was lying to him. Those guileless blue eyes were looking down at the book in her lap again.
“But you have to have some idea,” he wheedled. “And I trusted you.”
She blew out a slow breath and stared at the seat in front of her. “My roommate and I are saving up to produce a documentary on women in the television industry. Pay gap, gender stereotypes, sexual harassment. And then we’ll flip it and look at women who have broken through to pave the way for the rest of us.”
