Page 24 of Mr. Fixer Upper
“Are you going to eat, or are you going to pout?” He looked at her with expectation and freed a gooey slice from the box.
“I’m not pouting,” she argued, crossing to the pizza. He handed her a paper plate and flopped down on the couch with his own plate. She wasn’t pouting like some child. She was thinking about how screwed she was. There was a distinct difference.
He leaned over and flicked her lower lip. “Looks like pouting.” For a second, she thought about biting his finger, and the idea must have telegraphed because Gannon abruptly pulled his hand back and grinned. His dimple flashed.
“Why are you here with pizza?” She gave in and took a bite of her slice. “Mmm.” Damn, it was good. Gannon had a special talent for tracking down the best pizza place in every town they visited. Usually he didn’t share.
“If you make noises like that after letting me in your room, people will talk,” he warned, cocking an eyebrow her way.
“Gannon!”
“Yelling my name isn’t helping.”
“I’m so glad you find my situation funny.”
Gannon got up and returned to the table in the corner. “I’m taking your situation seriously, but you’re taking it like a death blow.” He pulled out a bottle and plastic cups and poured generously. Offering one to her, he sat again.
She sniffed the liquid.
“Bourbon,” he told her.
She took a small sip and let the exquisite warmth blaze a trail down her throat. “Good bourbon,” she guessed.
He gave a slight shrug with his massive shoulders.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t be upset.” She took another sip and then switched back to the pizza.
“As a very wise woman once told me—and I seem to keep having to remind you of this—we’re on the same team.” He held up a finger when she started to interrupt. “As part of your team, Cat and I have a plan that will shift focus away from you.”
“What kind of plan? Gannon, please don’t do anything stupid that’s going to draw even more attention—”
“It’s better if you don’t know. Then you can plead innocent if Eddie and his boss’s bosses start making noise.”
“I forbid you from doing anything that is going to put your own careers in jeopardy.”
Gannon snorted. “Please. We’re the Kings. Badass talent comes with a few perks. Namely being slightly more untouchable than our crew. Don’t worry, it’s a good plan, and the embarrassment will be all someone else’s.”
“I don’t even want to know at this point,” Paige muttered, going back to the bourbon. They ate in silence for a few minutes before she broke again. “God, Gannon, what am I going to do on camera? I don’t think I can do both.”
He laid a big hand over her knee and squeezed. “Princess, if anyone can do it all, you can. This doesn’t have to be the end of the world.”
“I don’t see how it isn’t.” Great, now she really was pouting.
“Look at it this way, you’re getting a chance to have a voice.”
“I don’t need a voice.”
“That’s bullshit. Everyone needs a voice. Why do you work on this show?”
“Besides getting to sleep on one of the stars?” she asked, her tone snarky. He shot her a cool look, and she rolled her eyes. “Because we get to tell the stories of people who have used their lives to make a difference, and we give back to them in a fun, flashy way.”
“Bingo. So use your voice to make sure those stories are heard.”
It made sense. Solid sense. “I just don’t know if anyone’s going to take me seriously after this.”
“Make them.” He said it so simply as if it were the easiest thing in the world.
“It’s not that easy. Maybe for you, a network star and a man—”
