Page 48 of Mr. Fixer Upper
He knew exactly what she was thinking. The network or at least Summit-Wingenroth would smell blood in the water and demand a gory retelling. The network wouldn’t sweep this under the rug. Either they’d exploit Paige’s pain, or someone would be facing some serious trouble over the accident.
“I’m sure the network will poke their asshole noses in to it,” he said.
Cat strolled out of the bedroom, her hair tucked through the back of a Kings Construction cap. She yawned mightily. “Well, those assholes are going to have to get through us to get to her,” she said.
Gannon felt his spirits lift and stood up. He could always count on nothing less than the fiercest loyalty from his sister.
He put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her toward the door before she could decide to spend another half an hour on makeup. “I hope they put up a fight,” he said.
Cat snickered and then tossed over her shoulder, “By the way, when were you going to feel like telling me you spent the night with Paige?”
“What are you talking about?” he hedged.
“You smell like Paige’s coconut shampoo.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Gannon half-shoved her into a folding camp chair.
“Do not under any circumstances move your ass,” he told her. Paige argued with him for posterity’s sake but wasn’t fooling anyone. Cat had taken one look at her bruised and battered form and burst into tears in the doorway of her hotel room. Gannon had had to pry her off of Paige.
But it reminded Paige that everyone was going to feel a little traumatized today, and she might as well get used to it.
Gannon tucked a blanket around her knees and handed her a coffee.
“If I see you out of this chair for any reason,” he said, his finger in her face, “I’m going to interrupt filming and embarrass the shit out of you.”
Paige glowered at him until Felicia barged in to mic her. “Sorry, Paige. Network’s orders,” she muttered, but her hands trembled when she reached for the bodypack.
“Felicia, I’m fine,” Paige promised her. The woman’s lower lip trembled. “It was real scary yesterday.”
“You can say that again,” Paige joked and then found herself wrapped in Felicia’s sturdy arms.
“Your hair looks real nice,” Felicia said, sniffling and patting Paige awkwardly on the shoulder before pulling back.
Paige caught Gannon’s smirk over the woman’s shoulder. “How did everything get cleaned up so fast?” she asked, trying to distract Felicia.
“Honey, we had volunteers here all night helping us clean up the mess and set up new tents.”
Paige worked her mouth into a smile. “Nothing’s gonna stop us from giving the Dufours the house of their dreams.”
“Not if we have anything to say about it,” Felicia agreed.
She took her leave, but Paige wasn’t left alone for more than a few seconds at a time. Andy walked her through the call sheet he’d done for the day, and Paige walked him through the changes that would make the most of shooting. Tony, her hero, brought her a dish of oatmeal and an awkward hug. Mel and Sam hovered around her until she had to make up tasks to get them both out of her hair. Mel to send out an updated call sheet and Sam to get Paige a new phone.
Every member of the Brunelli crew took time out to come over and welcome her back to set.
To everyone, herself included, it felt as though she’d been gone forever instead of a few hours, and they were just now starting to get back in the groove. She surveyed what she could see of the front yard. The craft services tent was gone and replaced with a series of mismatched pop-ups that had been secured to the ground with what looked like a thousand ropes and stakes. The tent the kids had been in was gone as well. She wasn’t sure if it too had been destroyed or just damaged.
It must have been more than a couple of kind-hearted volunteers, she thought, noting the tired eyes of her crew and Brunelli’s. They may have been making reality TV, but they were all pretty damn good people, she decided, taking a bite of the oatmeal and ignoring the twinge in her shoulder.
“Well, well. You look like shit.”
“Eddie?” Paige craned her neck to see her executive producer pulling up a chair next to her. “What are you doing here?” Eddie Garraza didn’t set foot on set unless something big was happening.
He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Checking up on you, kiddo. I hear you had an eventful day.” Eddie crossed his right leg over his left, flashing her a shot of his fawn brown moccasins.
“The weather got a little unpredictable, but we’re back on track,” Paige said. She knew she was being flippant, but she had a hollow in her belly. If Eddie was here, he had bad news. She ordered herself to relax. Eddie wasn’t the bad guy. Whatever it was, they could work through it.
