Page 21 of Mr. Fixer Upper
CHAPTER TEN
Paige’s phone had been blowing up all morning with calls and texts, but she was knee-deep in prep with their on location general contractor and a denied permit that had to be unbotched before shooting could start the next day.
Usually they managed a few days to a week between filming episodes, but with twelve episodes to produce this season, the Texas to Maine jump was the tightest they’d ever had.
The field manager had warned her it would be a big job done on a tight lot, but it would be worth it. So Paige had worked an extra two days for filming into the schedule. And looking at the dingy two-story on a skinny swatch of lawn, they were going to need it. Carina Dufour had purchased the house with her then husband when they were pregnant. The location was ideal. It was a quiet, cozy neighborhood where backyards connected and neighbors called out greetings from front porches. The perfect place to start a family.
Unfortunately, the marriage hadn’t lasted, and down to one income and facing an ongoing health crisis, the dreams of renovations and a comfortable family home were put on the back burner.
Blah beige siding and mud brown shingles added no more curb appeal to the home than the chipped wrought-iron scroll work holding up the crooked porch roof. Inside, it was spotless but dated. There were too many too-small rooms chopping up the layout and rendering the house practically useless. And taking a second leave of absence from her job, Carina had no hopes of beginning renovations on her own. She never stopped dreaming, though. At least not according to the Pinterest board she’d been happy to share with Paige.
Cat, of course, had been thrilled with Carina’s fearless design taste. The color and texture and creativity had sent Cat into her design software creating and re-creating each room until it was perfect.
They were all in on this one, Paige thought. No one complained about the tight schedule or the optimistic construction plans. Her team was just as invested in the family as the locals were. There was no way any of them were leaving Carina and Malia with anything less than the beautiful home they deserved. So nothing, not even the torrential downpour that left crater-deep mud puddles everywhere overnight, would slow them down.
Paige blew out a sigh of relief when Billie, office manager and wife of Brunelli Construction president, gave her the thumbs up.
“Okay, great,” Billie said into her cell phone. “Thank you. We’ll send someone down to pick up the permit right away,” she said, disconnecting the call.
“Fixed?” Paige asked hopefully.
“All set,” Billie said, wiping the imaginary sweat from her brow. “Good to go for tomorrow.”
“Thank God,” Paige said, pulling her phone out to send an update text to Eddie and Andy and wondering again why her phone had ten missed calls and twenty-two texts. She’d just hit send when she spotted Gannon dragging Cat her way.
“Oh, wow,” Billie breathed, staring at Gannon. “He’s even hotter in person.”
He sure is, Paige agreed silently.
He was wearing gym shorts and a faded t-shirt that looked as though it had seen a hundred washings and still had every inch of his broad chest memorized. Those golden eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and the scowl on his face gave her a giddy rush of adrenaline up her spine. She’d been avoiding him since the plane landed last night and she woke up with her face plastered to that spectacular chest.
She wasn’t one to wake quickly in the first place, and waking up to that face? To all that masculine heat? She had stared up at Gannon dazed for longer than necessary until he reached over and gently nudged her gaping mouth closed.
“Hey, guys. Have you met Billie? She’s Brunelli’s office manager and Mrs. Brunelli.”
Gannon’s frown softened marginally. He offered Billie his hand and a “nice to meet you” before introducing his sister.
Cat looked guilty, and Gannon looked furious. Paige hoped whatever it was wouldn’t derail shooting.
Star-struck or, more accurately, Gannon-struck, Billie excused herself to go take care of some vague errands. Paige had a feeling the woman was going to go stick her head in a freezer to cool off from her first encounter with him.
“So what has you dragging your sister to the set a full day early?” Paige asked, addressing her question to Gannon.
“Cat has something she’d like to tell you.”
Cat pouted. “I don’t see what the big deal is—” she began.
But Gannon was pulling her phone out of her grasp and handing it over to Paige. “She’s sorry,” he said, his voice short.
Paige raised an eyebrow and looked down at the screen.
“Oh, shit.”
Cat’s Instagram account was open to a picture of Gannon and Paige on the plane. Paige’s head nestled cozily on his chest. Beams of the setting sun from the window held them like in a kind of spotlight. He was looking down at her, his expression soft, almost tender. Paige’s gaze flew back to his face. He wasn’t soft or tender now.
“I didn’t know she took it,” he said quietly.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” Cat began again. “Everyone loves the picture.”
