by Lucy Score
“Fuck.” Gannon sat down on his sister’s unmade bed.
“My sentiments,” Cat said, heading into the bathroom to change. “So you saw her this morning? I wanted to check on her again last night, but I figured she needed rest.”
“She’s gonna be hurting today,” Gannon said, side-stepping the question. “But I think everyone will feel better having her on set.”
“Agreed. Think we’re gonna see some trouble today?” she called through the door.
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.
“You look like you got hit by a dump truck,” he said, leaning his elbows on his knees.
“I kind of feel that way, too.”
“Anything broken?”
She shook her head. “Nothing serious. Should be back to normal in no time.”
He nodded and stared out at the front of the Dufour’s house, which was currently being resided while Louis shot some footage. “House is looking good,” he ventured.
“Eddie. You might as well get to it.”
“I’m here primarily to head off any legal issues that might arise from ‘the incident,’” he said, tossing up lazy air quotes. “Got some worker’s comp stuff to fill out. And the suits want you to sit down with me or Andy and walk through the ‘incident’ step-by-step. Talk about how harrowing it was to almost die on camera. Maybe work up a few tears. You know the drill.”
She did and had anticipated as much.
“But there’s more, isn’t there?” she prodded.
Eddie yanked off his Orioles ball cap and shoved a hand through his curling gray hair. “They want Tony out.”
“What?” Paige gasped. The sharp breath hurt her ribs and pretty much everything else. “That’s not going to happen,” she argued. “He pulled us out of there. He carried that little girl into the house and then came back and dug me out from under two fucking circus tents.”
“Well, see, the network feels that he should have continued to film instead of getting involved.”
“That is bullshit, and you know it, Eddie.”
“Have you watched the footage?”
“No, I’ve been busy being in the hospital,” she snapped.
“Now, look, kid. I don’t like this either. So I need your help.”
He wasn’t asking her to fire Tony, Paige realized. He was asking her to come up with a way out of it. “I’ll quit, and I’ll sue if they fire him,” she told him.
Eddie was shaking his head. “Not big enough.” He wasn’t saying it to be mean. It was just a fact that field producers were just about as plentiful as production assistants. If she quit, they’d fly in some other idiot to replace her the same day.
Well, if she wasn’t big enough, she knew who was.
“Andy, can you send Gannon and Cat out here as soon as you wrap that scene?” Paige said into her headset.
“You’ve got an idea?” Eddie asked.
“Tony’s not going anywhere,” Paige promised.
“We’re resetting for a new shot,” Andy reported in her ear. “You can have them for ten minutes.”
“Works for me.”
They came out of the garage both covered in dust and dirt. Gannon with his powerful strides and Cat with her dancer-like stroll, their l
ong legs eating up the driveway as if it were a catwalk. Paige saw the tightening around Gannon’s jaw, knew he was expecting a fight.
“Eddie,” Gannon said, offering his hand.
Eddie shook it enthusiastically. “Good to see you both. This season’s shaping up to be pretty great.”
Gannon said nothing, but Cat gave Eddie her “for the cameras smile.”
“So what do we owe the honor?” Cat asked. Her tone was friendly, but Paige knew better than to be fooled by that.
“Eddie has some news,” Paige told them. “Go ahead, Eddie.”
“Well, I was just telling Paige here that the network has instructed me to fire Tony—”
“The fuck you are,” Gannon cut him off. He was scary when he was pissed, and hell if he wasn’t furious right now.
Cat stepped between her ticking time bomb of a brother and the messenger. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. I don’t think that’s a good idea. See if you fire Tony, Gannon and I are going to quit right here, right now. And then we’re going to spend the next year doing interviews talking about what dipshits run the network and put footage above human life. Right, Gan?”
Gannon nodded. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Did we mention that we got an offer from Netflix? For an original show where we call the shots?”
Cat crossed her arms over her chest. “So what’s it gonna be, Eddie?”
Paige looked at Eddie. “Does that work for you?” she asked him.
He took off his hat and mopped his brow. “Oh, yeah. They’ll be pissing their pants.” He took out his phone and wandered a few paces away.
Paige grinned. “Nicely done, Kings.”
“You diabolical little puppet master,” Gannon said, glaring at her.
“Eddie wanted a reason to keep Tony. You guys gave him a big one.”
“Good to see the head injury didn’t screw with your manipulation capabilities,” Cat said, looking impressed.
Eddie returned, shoving his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. “Good news, Tony’s staying, and I think it would be better if we didn’t let him know how close he came to the chopping block.”
“Agreed,” Paige said.
Gannon and Cat nodded.
“Now for the bad news,” Eddie said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “In addition to your in-depth interview, they’d like to see shots of your injuries.”
Gannon stepped in on Eddie, and Paige put her hand on his arm. “Don’t roundhouse the messenger,” she told him. She turned to Eddie. “If it puts this whole stupid thing behind us, then fine. I’ll bawl for the camera, give you a close-up of the stitches, and that’s the end of it.”
“Taking one for the team,” Gannon scowled.
“The guy pulled me out of a ton of rubble. I think I owe him.”
Eddie, sensing an argument brewing, slapped Gannon on the back heartily. “While I’m here, why don’t you show me around,” he suggested.
They started to walk off toward the house when Paige saw Eddie sniff the air.
“Do you smell piña coladas?”
––—
Between filming scenes, Gannon stayed glued to Paige’s side. He dumped an entire kitchen scene on Cat and Brunelli so he could stand sentinel off camera while Eddie interviewed Paige on camera.
She had every right to be miserable and whiny with the amount of pain she had to be feeling. But he’d yet to hear a complaint. It was impossible not to admire her for that. And now, watching her walk through what had to have been an incredibly traumatic moment without bursting into tears, he was impressed.
Paige was toughing it out, answering the intrusive questions with humor and sincerity and giving a shout out to the brave little girl Regina who hadn’t left her scared friend behind. He caught a wince every now and then when she shifted in her seat. She had to be in pain, lots of it, judging by the bruises she revealed to the camera. But she was a consummate professional through the entire thing.
Gannon on the other hand wanted to grab the camera out of Rico’s hands and smash it over Eddie’s head. It wasn’t either of their faults, but he couldn’t help lumping them in with the network assholes demanding Paige’s humiliating recount of “the incident” as Eddie called it.
“You’re doing great,” Eddie said, peering at his notes through his glasses. “Couple more, and we’re done.”
Gannon shook his head as Eddie asked her what her biggest relief was. What the fuck did they think she’d say? That she got a few hours off work? Assholes. He’d meant to say the words in his head, not actually mutter it under his breath, but Paige caught it and gave him a nearly imperceptible shake of her head.
“My biggest relief is that Ashton is okay. He was a tough little kid.” She kept her face neutral, her voice steady. She wasn’t about to parade around some emotions just so the network could exploit her and Gannon had never respected anyone more than Paige St. James in that moment.
“Do you feel lucky to be alive?” Eddie asked.
“I feel lucky to be alive every day,” she countered. “Maybe a little extra today, though.”
“Okay, kid. One more,” Eddie said, shuffling papers. “Who’s taking care of you?”
That one almost tripped her up, Gannon noted. Of course Eddie was fishing—under orders, probably. But there was no way she was admitting that Gannon King had stormed her shower, bathed her, changed her dressings, and spent the night in her bed.
“We’re a family here on Kings,” she answered primly. “We take care of each other.”
Gannon had heard enough. He stepped in blocking Rico’s shot. “Okay, that’s enough,” he announced. “Come on, Paige. I’ll take you back to the hotel.”
She looked relieved and immediately slipped the mic off her shirt. She put up a fuss about leaving, but it was all for show. Gannon got as far as having Cat stuff Paige’s bag in the truck when she slipped away from him. He found Paige back at the interview tent where Tony was in the hot seat while Eddie led him through his questions.
“Fuck,” Gannon muttered and stormed over. But Paige stopped him. So he forced a bottle of water on her and stood with her while she showed her silent support for Tony.
Tony was a big lug of a guy who bore a striking resemblance to Billy Joel. He was quick to laugh and slow to take offense, and he was very, very good at his job. He was a little awkward on camera, Gannon noted, but Eddie smoothed him out easing him into the questions. He walked him through the whole thing a couple of times, and just when Gannon was getting anxious enough to pick Paige up and carry her to the truck, Eddie asked the big question.
“Some camera guys would question why you stopped shooting and got involved.”
“Some camera guys are assholes,” Tony shrugged without missing a beat. He glanced over to where Paige stood and winked. “There’s a difference between ratings and life and death. We’re not saving the Amazon here. We’re making a TV show. No ratings are worth losing Beast Mode over.”
Paige ignored protocol and gingerly stepped around Felicia and her boom to hug Tony.
The corner of Eddie’s mouth quirked up, and when Paige and Tony took a second to wipe their eyes, Gannon saw he’d managed to get exactly what the network wanted without violating them too much.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Paige woke in the early dredges of dawn to the now familiar feel of Gannon’s heat enveloping her. She breathed in his scent. He’d slept in her bed for the past three nights, and every morning she’d wake with the weight of his arms around her, his scent and heat comforting her.
They’d never discussed it.
It felt too… intimate.
And Paige hated to admit it, but she thought if they did talk about it, he’d stop coming to her bed. As bad as an idea that she knew it was, she still wanted him there.
She was healing, slowly but surely. The throbbing pains were fading to dull aches, her bruises and scrapes changing colors and becoming less tender. The stitches would dissolve on their own, and providing she wasn’t leveled
by another tent, she’d be just fine in another week.
There was just one issue she’d yet to deal with. She wanted Gannon King fiercely.
Seeing him naked had only tweaked her curiosity at what it would feel like to touch him. And when she woke up every morning, feeling him hard and throbbing against her back, well, it was getting harder to focus on maintaining a strictly professional relationship with him.
She’d never felt this enamored. She supposed that was the right word. When they were on set, she found herself keeping tabs on him. And the long looks they’d shared were enough to send her blood humming. He hadn’t tried to kiss her again. Not since the day of the accident, and she worried that playing doctor had pushed him out of attraction mode and into the friend zone.
It should be a relief. She didn’t need a complication like Gannon. What she needed was to heal and to focus and in another year she’d finally be on the path she’d set for herself.
But.
There was something so right about being wrapped in his arms. She’d never been a cuddler. She liked her space in bed to sprawl as it suited her. But Paige had also never slept better in her life than she had these past three nights. Gannon’s warm body next to her was a comfort… and a torture.
She felt the steely length of his erection nestled against her lower back and shifted her hips back into him. God, she could feel him throbbing against her, she thought, clenching her jaw. She wanted to roll over, to throw her leg over him and pin him down. Strip him of the useless boxer briefs he wore to bed, notch his cock in place, and ride.
She was starting to want that more than she wanted to steer clear of any kind of personal relationship with him. Entering the danger zone, she wrinkled her nose in the dark. But Gannon was in full-on nurse mode, making sure she wasn’t overdoing it, keeping track of her eating, her sleeping. It was annoying but sweet.
