“Struggle? Kayla and I still get along great. Just because our marriage didn’t work out, that doesn’t mean there’s any enmity between us.” And there wasn’t, although they hardly talked to each other lately. Brandon missed that, missed being able to hash out design problems with her or just talk about anything over beers at the end of a long day.
“Really? You’re telling me it was an amicable breakup, because I read that—”
“I’m not getting back together with her. But we’re still friends, and she’s got a good eye.” And the more he fought with Travis, the more Brandon saw that he needed help.
Harwood frowned. “Well, we’ve already let Kayla out of her contract.”
Brandon sat back in his chair and sighed. This was all wrong. Again, Brandon wished he and Kayla were still working together. He felt out of his depth with this show and could have used an ally. And as much as he’d liked Travis at first, Travis was turning into more of an antagonist than a cohost. He was always the bearer of bad news, even though everything Travis wanted to fix needed to be fixed. Of course, everything that needed to be fixed was also making the project budget climb.
And yet…. “I’ll figure out how to pay Kayla out of the design budget if you won’t. I could use her help, even if she’s not on camera. She was always better at design than I was.”
“That’s true,” said Virginia. “I think a lot of viewers tuned in more to see Brandon hit things with a sledgehammer than to do the interior design on the house.” She tilted her head back and forth, clearly thinking it through. “Tell you what. Let’s bring her in for a segment on design. We can pay her a per diem.”
“Thanks. I think it will be good to have her on board, even if it’s just for a day or two.”
“You seem awfully eager to work with the woman who cheated on you,” said Harwood.
“She didn’t—that’s not exactly what happened.”
“Right. It’s none of my business. But viewers think she’s the bad guy, so maybe don’t be too nice to her on camera.”
Brandon sighed. “I know this is reality television, but it’s not really reality television. People watch the Restoration Channel to be soothed or to think about paint colors or real estate in vacation destinations. Don’t they? This isn’t a Housewives show. We don’t need drama.”
Virginia crossed her arms. “You know I used to work on one of the Housewives shows.”
“I know. I’m not mocking them. I’m just saying that’s not the kind of show I’m making.”
“The tension between you and Travis is compelling, though. Hell, if Travis were a woman, I’d guess it was sexual tension between you.”
Brandon burst into laughter. The comment surprised him. There was, of course, the problem that he was attracted to Travis. Ridiculously so. But he’d pushed that aside because their relationship had grown so adversarial. Besides, there was no way they could get involved with each other—not if Brandon hoped to keep conveying this happy heterosexual image of himself.
“There’s a real opportunity here,” said Virginia. “I mean, the Chase name is practically synonymous with New York City real estate.”
That nearly set Brandon off. His father, John Chase, had been a real estate mogul in New York in the seventies, eighties, and nineties, investing in huge construction projects and adding tall buildings to the skyline. His claim to fame was the glamorous St. Joseph Hotel on the Upper West Side. John Chase wasn’t a name people knew outside of New York City, but anyone who paid attention to local real estate definitely knew who he was. Brandon’s older brother Robert ran the family business now, which was fine by Brandon. He’d wanted to succeed in his own right.
He couldn’t deny that he’d gotten some help from his family over the years, though. His inheritance from his father was a large portion of the financing for this current project, after all. The fact that he was using his father’s money was probably the reason Brandon had been hearing his father’s voice in his head more than usual. What his father would have thought about this job had been weighing on him the whole project.
John Chase had been a demanding man. His take-no-prisoners business style had made him a lot of enemies, but he’d also been smart and successful, and he’d demanded the same of his sons. Robert was the protégé, middle brother Luke was the apprentice, and Brandon, the baby, was the one with the independent streak. And yet how independent could he be when he was still using Daddy’s money to buy houses? His father’s words were never far from his mind: Don’t fail me, son. Never fail me. Failure is not an option.
Brandon rubbed his forehead and tried not to let his distress show. “I’d really rather leave my family out of it.”
“Fine,” said Virginia, holding her hands up.
Brandon wondered if all of this wasn’t spinning out of control. He’d worked so hard to create a safe, TV-friendly public persona, something he could parlay into the kind of real estate success that could have made John Chase proud if he were still here. He knew being on TV got him jobs and deals he wouldn’t have been offered otherwise, and creating this name for himself made him feel like he wasn’t always in his family’s shadow. And okay, the part of him that had been a theater kid in high school did like the limelight—just not when the press about him wasn’t great.
It was funny, though; that moment when Kayla had come to their home and explained to him what had happened at the restaurant and they’d decided their marriage was probably over, he’d been able to see a different life for himself—one out of the spotlight. He could almost taste the freedom he’d never had. But on the other hand, he’d worked so hard to build up his public persona that he didn’t know who he was underneath it all anymore.
And now he’d been swept into this.
“We also called you here today,” Harwood said, “because we’ve got a lead on another house. It’ll take enough time to close on it that we might as well get moving on it now.”
“This show will bankrupt me,” Brandon said. He wanted to deal with this first house and its ballooning budget before taking on a second, although he understood that projects would have to overlap if they had any hope of finishing this show on time. He spared a thought for the house on Argyle Road, knowing Travis was there right now overseeing the crew as they got back to work now that the asbestos abatement was done.
Brandon loved that damned house. That was what had finally persuaded him to see the house as Travis did, as an old house to be restored, not plowed over or renovated. Travis was right, the house had charm, and it was that charm that had sucked Brandon into the project. It would be a shame to remove it.
And now here he was, trying to keep his shirt and make the best decisions for this new show and this house, not to mention his potential future projects…. He was completely out of his depth, and he knew it.
“We were thinking, just to keep it interesting,” said Harwood, “that we could do a few shows in which you and your team renovate houses for buyers in the neighborhood. That would ease the financial burden somewhat. In this case, the buyer is Jessica Benton.”
Brandon sucked in a breath. Jessica Benton was one of those anticelebrity celebrities who “just wanted to act.” The New York paparazzi was pretty good about mostly leaving celebrities alone, but Jessica Benton still got her photo taken leaving her gym and getting coffee at a popular Park Slope café. Her husband was also an actor, albeit a lesser-known one, who had a major role on an HBO prestige drama series. Buying a house in Brooklyn would be a natural thing for her to do. “Is she buying it to move into or to flip?”
“It’s not clear yet, but if she wants to flip it, that could be a fun episode,” said Virginia. “Viewers would like the celebrity angle, and it’s keeping within the theme of the show. Plus, she would foot most of the bill.”
“I’m game,” Brandon said, although working with a celebrity made him nervous. Of course, if the tabloid coverage of his divorce was anything to go by, he was also pretty famous. Still, the prospect of going in on a
project with someone else fronting the money was enticing.
“Good to know,” said Harwood. “I’ll keep you posted. It’s not a done deal, but I think we’re close.”
“The ratings, man,” said Virginia. “Brandon is already a household name. If we do episodes with celebrities like Jessica Benton, people will make the time to tune in to the show. I can already see the preview ads in my head.”
Brandon thought they were all being overly optimistic and couldn’t quite figure out how this would ever work, but he was in too deep to back out now. So he smiled and said, “I’m excited,” even though inside, he was terrified.
AFTER THE crew was gone for the day, Travis lingered to make some notes and set up a priority list for the next day’s projects. Renovations were proceeding now that the asbestos abatement team and exterminators had moved through the whole house. They’d finished the demolition work, and the next major thing would be to fix the structural issues under the house.
Brandon walked into the living room, where Travis currently sat. Travis had a folding chair pulled up to a sawhorse, which he was using as a desk. He was surrounded by temporary support walls now that most of the lath and plaster had been removed, and could therefore see Brandon coming from across the house. And yet it still surprised Travis. Today Brandon had on a purple-and-black plaid shirt that hugged his torso and a pair of well-fitted jeans that, while not especially tight, showed off how fit he was.
Travis shook his head. He didn’t want to find Brandon attractive.
“I want to run something by you,” said Brandon, walking over to him.
“Okay.”
“I’m trying to take your arguments about the design to heart, and I want to bring in an outside designer. I just got network approval.”
“That’s fine.” Travis rubbed his head. “Who is the designer?”
“Kayla Chase.”
Well, that was a surprise. “As in your ex-wife, Kayla?”
“Yes.”
Travis couldn’t fathom that. Then again, his last few boyfriends had not been the best men humankind had to offer, so he wasn’t that broken up about never seeing them again. “You can work with your ex-wife?”
“As well as I can work with you. Better, actually, because she doesn’t question me constantly.”
“I don’t question you constantly.”
“You’re doing it right now!”
Travis let out a huff of breath. “I’m not, like, deliberately trying to goad you. This is a good job and I want to keep it.” Although the truth was, it was fun to goad Brandon. Brandon was dead sexy when he was ruffled up, and an entertaining sparring partner. It was damned inconvenient to be this attracted to someone he had to work with, especially when he wasn’t out to anyone in the cast or crew.
Sometimes when they were in the heat of an argument about cabinet styles or load-bearing walls, Travis thought Brandon might be attracted to him too. But that was very likely just his imagination.
“The really stupid thing,” Brandon said as he leaned against the exterior wall, “is that the network is eating it up. I had a meeting with Virginia and Garrett Harwood yesterday, and they say the fact that we don’t get along most of the time makes for good TV.”
“Are you serious?” The suggestion was laughable, but then, it was television. He supposed if this was a straightforward house renovation show where everyone got along and there were never any issues with the houses, the show would be pretty boring.
Brandon shrugged.
“So, wait, is bringing your ex-wife on board your way of adding even more drama to the show?”
“No.” Brandon sighed. “You’ve convinced me that you’re right about the design. The truth is that the network has more faith in my design skills than I do. I was running with what I’ve always done in the past—only I hadn’t taken the neighborhood and the age of the house into account. Kayla’s a far better designer than I am and will have a better sense for what buyers in this part of the city would like.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. “There never really was much drama between us.”
“Uh, didn’t she cheat on you?” Travis had taken to periodically googling Brandon because the tabloid stories about him were so bonkers. Travis assumed only a fraction of them had even a hint of truth to them, but that she’d stepped out on him seemed to be the incontrovertible fact. Kayla had been photographed kissing another man in a restaurant in Manhattan. Brandon and Kayla’s marriage had ended soon after.
“God, I’m tired,” said Brandon, rubbing his eyes.
“I’m just saying,” Travis said, “I’ve been cheated on a time or two. I don’t exactly have kind feelings toward those exes.”
“The story they’re telling in the media is not exactly what happened.”
“I assumed.”
Travis waited, expecting Brandon to explain, but he didn’t. Instead he pushed off the wall. “I should get home.”
“Did I offend you?”
“No. I… ugh, I just hate the shit with the tabloids.” Brandon ran a hand through his hair.
“You came out looking like the good guy, though.”
Brandon rolled his eyes. “Is that supposed to be some kind of goddamned silver lining? Because I didn’t want any of this to happen. I just wanted everything to stay like it was. And because Kayla did a really dumb thing, everything changed. And somehow the worst part for me is that I feel guilty because she lost her job over it.”
“She did?”
“She’s the villain and I’m the victim, if you read People. No one wants to watch a show hosted by a villain. But the network is banking on people feeling sorry for me and tuning in to, I don’t know, make sure I’m okay?” Brandon walked a few paces into the middle of the room and kicked a reciprocating saw that lay in the middle of the floor. He threw his hands up in the air. “Well, I’m not okay! I lost my best friend, I had to move out of my house, and now I’m bleeding money on this fucking flip that I let the network talk me into because I loved this house.” He walked over to one of the temporary walls and wrapped his hand around the frame. “And I do love this house. But this is so fucking hard, and I don’t know how to do it. So I wanted to bring Kayla in because I need some kind of normalcy and another perspective and someone who understands me to help with all this, and she’s the only one I could think of. But of course everyone will assume I’m stirring up drama.”
Travis put his pen down and stood up. He wanted to help Brandon calm down, but he wasn’t entirely sure how. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
Brandon turned and looked at him. Their eyes met, and Travis could see just how close to the edge Brandon was, how difficult it was for him to hold it together. Travis’s instinct was to pull Brandon into his arms and try to soothe him, but that would be wholly inappropriate.
“I didn’t mean to unload on you. I just…. I used to love this work. But I feel like this project is trying to kill me,” Brandon said.
Travis nodded as he thought that over. “All right. Well, let’s find the love, then. Because I can’t fix any of the rest of your problems, but I do know a thing or two about how to fix houses.”
Brandon crossed his arms. “What do you mean?”
Travis walked over to the fireplace, still waiting to be demolished, and laid a hand on the mantel. “What did you love about this house the first time you saw it?”
Brandon looked around. “Its charm. And the fact that I could see the potential. This house has broken bones, but the layout is pretty good, and… well.”
“What?”
Brandon sighed. “This is stupid, but with every subsequent walk-through, I started to picture a family here. A married couple, a few kids, a dog or three. It made me happy to think about that. Because that’s why I do this, you know? I want people to have a good place to live, a home that brings them joy. And then… well, then I started picturing my family here.”
“With Kayla?”
Brandon balked. “N
o. Some potential spouse with no name. And I don’t even want kids, but sometimes when I start a new project, I try to put myself in the shoes of the potential buyer. For this house, I think it’s a young married couple with a couple of kids, and this is their forever home. And I like that image, you know?” He shook his head. “It’s absurd, I know.”
“It’s not absurd at all. I tried to buy a house like this last year for similar reasons.”
Brandon looked at Travis’s hands. “I don’t see a ring. Are you married?”
“No. I’m not seeing anyone right now either. I broke up with someone a few months ago, and then I got this job, and as you know, I basically live here now.”
Brandon nodded slowly. “Were you going to buy a house for just yourself?”
“Well, yeah. I’d move my hypothetical future spouse into it eventually. But I wanted a project.” Travis shook his head. Man, avoiding pronouns sounded clunky. Did people usually use the word spouse this much in regular speech?
The specific house he’d wanted had been a happy place, a family home. When Travis had been a kid, the house had been full of children and laughter and rogue candy dishes. But he didn’t want to dwell on his disappointment about losing part of his history. Some developer had bought the house and turned it into the kind of cookie-cutter nightmare Brandon wanted to make this place. Travis grunted. He knew his emotions were playing out over his face, and he tried to look as placid as possible.
Brandon didn’t seem to notice. “It’s a nice thought,” he said. “I totally get it. I’ve worked on houses that I loved so much, I thought of keeping them. But I also just enjoy the process of making an old home new again, you know?”
“I do know. It’s why I do this work too.”
Brandon stared at the floor thoughtfully for a moment. He looked up and said, “I apologize if I’ve been dismissive of your ideas. You actually do have good instincts. I can see now that my initial approach was wrong and I was just being stubborn. You were right. When I pictured this place initially, I did want some modern touches, but I like the weird mantel over the fireplace and the wall sconces and the wainscoting too. The bannister on the stairs is beautiful, and I’m glad we were able to save it. I just… I need this to be successful.”
Domestic Do-over Page 5
