Mr. Fixer Upper

by Lucy Score

  He’d known. Gannon had to have heard about the blackballing and offered the job out of pity, out of guilt. And she’d thought it was because he wanted her back. She’d embarrassed herself and slapped at him over his generosity. Beggars didn’t have the luxury of being choosers.

  But they could take the opportunity offered and work their asses off.

  No matter what it cost her personally.

  Paige looked down at the water bottle in her hand and, as if from a distance, watched herself hurl it against the front door before calmly walking down the hall and closing herself in her bedroom.

  ––—

  The brownstone rose four stories out of a tiny brick courtyard within a low wall that butted up against the sidewalk. The front of the building boasted a trio of arched windows on each floor except for the lower level, which lost one window to the tall front stairs in the same milk chocolate tone as the rest of the façade.

  If Paige’s dream home had stepped off her secret Pinterest board, it had landed right here on 7th Street. The building faced the greens and golds of a park just across the street, cheerful noise rose from the playground at the opposite end of the block.

  “Well? What do you think?” Gannon ranged against the waist-high brick wall, ankles crossed. His jeans rode low on his hips, his green Henley had a rip in one wrist.

  “I think if the inside looks anything like the outside, it’s going to be a quick shoot,” Paige said.

  He smirked. “You may reconsider that when you see the interior.”

  She followed him through the rusted iron gate and up the ten stairs of stoop. The front door, two doors really, were tall and arched to match the windows.

  “I’m going in first because I want to see your face.”

  “I always wanted my own reveal,” Paige joked.

  “Not like this,” Gannon grinned. He gave the doors a shove with his shoulder, and they reluctantly screeched open on their hinges.

  “Sounds like a horror movie.”

  “Yeah, it’s about to look like one, too.”

  She stepped across the uneven threshold behind him and gaped while Gannon found the light switch. It smelled like a horror movie too. Dusty, musty air that she could taste, not just smell.

  “You’re insane,” she decided.

  He leaned against the newel post of what had once been a grand staircase. It was missing more spindles than it still had. Cabbage rose wallpaper peeled off the wall of the front room and looked like it continued into the next. There were holes, gaping, jagged sections, where floor had once been.

  “Just watch your step,” Gannon warned, grabbing her arm when she made a move. The hardwood, she noted, was unsalvageable. Water damage, stains, too many holes to patch. It creaked beneath their feet.

  “Is it safe for us to be in here?”

  “Mostly,” he said, his cheerful tone full of uncharacteristic optimism.

  There were two fireplaces on this floor with white marble surrounds and cracked out slate hearths. Someone had converted one to a gas fireplace with an ugly brass insert.

  “Well, at least your table and buffet will fit,” Paige commented, eyeing the space.

  “That’s what I’m thinking. Living room up front, dining here, but I want to bust out the rest of this wall to open it to the kitchen. Which is—or was—back here.”

  He kept her hand in his and led the way, weaving between holes and ducking under plaster that hung from the ceiling. The linoleum, green and white fleur de lis, peeled up from all corners. There was a faded red counter top with metal edge, a yellow refrigerator that screamed seventies, and nothing else. The tall, skinny door in the back right corner led out to what looked like a jungle of a backyard. Windows lined the rest of the back wall.

  “Well, at least you got a fridge in the deal,” Paige said.

  “That’s the spirit. I might move it to my office downstairs for beer.”

  He took her downstairs, which was worse. Here, a previous owner had put down thick brown carpet that now smelled like cat pee. The walls were paneled a dark, knotty brown. The footprint was the same as above and despite herself, Paige started to see potential. There was another door all the way at the back that Gannon wrestled open onto a shabby patio with a rusted-out wheelbarrow and an old water heater. Above them, the remains of a definitely not-to-code deck wobbled with the breeze.

  Gannon pointed out architectural details and talked repointing brick and running new wiring. Paige remained silent and took it all in. He led the way back to the main level and then up the rickety staircase, avoiding the missing treads.

  “Easy fixes,” he insisted, holding her hand as she scrambled over two steps.

  He flipped light switches and towed her through the space. “I think the master would go on this floor, maybe with a sitting room or some kind of den,” he said. More brown carpet, more cabbage roses, and cobwebs so thick she couldn’t see through them. There was a sagging mattress covered in dubious stains propped up against the wall.

  “The bath’s here now, but obviously it needs to be bigger.”

  The black and white checkerboard tile looked to be original. As did the plumbing that led to the cast iron claw foot tub. “Oh, Gannon,” she breathed. “You have to keep this.”

  “I’m sure as hell not hauling it down that staircase,” he snorted.

  “Plumbing, electrical, drywall or whatever,” Paige started ticking items off.

  “I can fix it,” he said amicably.

  They pushed to the rear of the third floor, finding more windows and another door. “A balcony?” Paige asked swiping a hand over the dirty glass to peer outside.

  “Careful, you might get tetanus or diphtheria touching shit around here,” Gannon warned.

  “Can we see the backyard… safely?”

  “If we don’t breathe too hard on the kitchen deck we should be able to get an idea of the forest for the trees.”

  Back down the long flight of stairs to the main floor, Gannon twisted the loose brass knob and wrestled the door open wide enough they could slip out one at a time. The knob fell off and hit the floor with a clang.

  “I’ll fix that.”

  They carefully moved to the railing, white paint flaking into piles beneath. “Try not to inhale any of that he said, running a hand over the flaking paint. Probably lead-based.”

  “Gannon, the entire house is probably dripping in asbestos and mold. You’ll have to bring the electrical and the plumbing up to code, which will be astronomical and a huge pain in the ass with four floors. You can’t keep anything except the tub.”

  “What about the mattress upstairs? It’s practically brand new.”

  She shook her head, closed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

  “The question is, are you up for this?”

  She looked out over the weeds and tumbling paver walls. The overgrown backyard was more impassible jungle than forest. But Gannon King had vision. Ambitious vision, but if he could pull this off, he’d have a showcase home that he could be proud of.

  “What do you see back here?” Paige asked, nodding toward the foliage disaster.

  Gannon stepped up behind her, his arms caging her in against the railing. “Down there, a flagstone patio, curved edge into yard,” he said, pointing beneath them. “I’ve always wanted a big ass outdoor fireplace and that would go there.”

  “And back there in the corner?” She pointed.

  “What do you see?” he countered.

  A slow smile worked its way across her face. “A hammock right next to a water feature. Something that makes some noise. Your own oasis in the middle of the city.”

  “You’re hired.”

  She turned carefully in his arms, and the decking groaned under her feet. She could see it, all of it. If there was anyone in this world who could bring the lovely brownstone back to life, it was Gannon. And she wanted in.

  “When do we start?”

  The victorious grin she expected from him didn’t
come. Instead, he looked serious, intent. “There’s something else you need to know before you officially accept.”

  She wet her lips, nervous now because she wanted it so badly. She wanted this job, this house. “What’s that?”

  “First, are you dating that Mackenrowe guy?”

  Paige blinked. “Who? Drake?”

  “You two looked pretty cozy at that thing last month.”

  He looked like he felt aggravated that he had to ask the question.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. He kept me from flattening your fake girlfriend’s new nose on camera.”

  Gannon, looking relived, ignored the jibe. “I need you to know that I don’t want to be just friends with you. I have every intention of wearing you down and getting back in your bed.”

  Her pulse kicked up, thudding away under her skin until she was sure Gannon could hear it.

  “I’m not interested in revisiting us,” she said firmly. Except that her voice wavered just slightly. “This is business.”

  He shook his head. “It’s never just business with us, Paige. I’m giving you the head’s up, but understand I’m not going to be harassing you, chasing you around set. I’m going to seduce you.”

  “Gannon—”

  “You want honest, and I want to give you what you want. I need you to take this job because you’re the only one I trust with something this important to me. But I also want to be near you, to see you, touch you.” His rough palm caressed the side of her face with a gentleness she didn’t know he possessed.

  “Business and personal don’t mix,” she reminded him. “We already tried that.”

  “For you and me, business is personal. Work is our lives. Everything we do is tangled up like that. And I just want you to understand that while I’m going to depend on your professional skills to make this project happen, to make this shithole a home, I’m going to be working my way back into your life.”

  “What if I tell you no?”

  “To the job or me?”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “I would never hold a job over your head just to get you back in bed, and if you actually think that I would—”

  His flash of anger comforted her.

  “I don’t,” she promised. “You’re not that guy.”

  “Damn fucking right I’m not that guy.”

  “Slow your roll, King. I’m saying yes to the job, and I’m saying I’m not interested to the relationship.”

  “I accept your yes, and we’ll see about your ‘not interested.’”

  “What’s the name of the show?”

  “King’s Castle.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Shooting started on a crisp fall morning that had the edges of gold and ruby leaves tipped with frost. Gannon wiped his palms on his jeans. It wasn’t nerves. It was excitement. He always loved the first full court press on a project. And this one was the most important one he’d ever tackled.

  This was a new beginning for him, one he finally felt ready to embrace.

  The shooting schedule was more forgiving than Kings of Construction, and at the end of the day, he got to grab a beer from his own fridge and put his feet up on his own couch. He was a producer this time around, and Eddie Garraza handled the executive producer duties. Both were stipulations Gannon had insisted upon. He wasn’t about to let the production company play fast and loose with the drama like they did with Kings, but he could use some guidance from a pro.

  Eddie fit the bill.

  The man was currently poking around the soaring wreck of a staircase, ball cap fitted over frizzed gray hair that needed a trim, glasses sliding down his nose.

  Paige looked up from her tablet in what would someday be the dining room, caught his eye, and flashed a grin.

  As expected, she’d thrown herself into the work, and with her careful scheduling and handpicked crew, they were ready to roll. She’d gone with mostly women, he noted, including Felicia for sound mixing. Well, women and Tony who’d jumped at the chance to pick up some local work for a change.

  He knew what Paige was doing, giving a hand up to crewmembers that probably got passed over due to gender. She was giving them experience that would jump off their resumes when it came time for them to move on to their next project.

  It was part of what he loved about her. Paige was never just out for Paige. She was a team captain ready to drag the rest of her team into the end zone for a victory. He could count on her, and he hoped she’d learn that she could count on him, too.

  He picked his way through cables, tools, piles of production and construction paraphernalia to Paige’s side. “You ready?”

  “The question is, are you ready? This is your baby.”

  If she only knew, Gannon thought.

  She must have read the change in him because she took a small step back and slid back into business mode. “Since we’ve got the light and the weather, we might as well start with your intro on the stoop. Then once we move inside, I’ll have Chantay shoot some B roll outside. Façade, park, etc. Now, with the walk-thru…”

  It had been Paige’s idea for Gannon to give Cat and Nonni the grand tour before demo. That way they could bring them back for the finale for an actual reveal. And, while part of him wanted to protect his little Italian grandmother from the public eye, he knew Francesca Bianchi would get a huge kick out of it.

  Paige finished briefing him on the timeline, and he nodded as if he’d been listening raptly. She’d keep him on course, on schedule. She always did.

  “If we can wrap up the shooting of the walk-thru by five, I think we can do an hour or two of demo before wrapping,” he predicted.

  “Lighting’s going to be a pain especially on the first floor. It’s like a dungeon down there, so we’re going to need extra setup time down there.”

  “No problem. We can run out, pick up lunch for everyone while they set up, eat when we come back, and then start there.”

  She eyed him. “Look at you being accommodating.”

  “I can be accommodating. Charming, too. Handsome, strong, fairly intelligent, high tolerance for pain, I can hold my liquor, and I make a decent red sauce.” He counted off his attributes.

  He saw her lips quirk, knew she was fighting to stay cool, and he pressed his luck. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I can also burp the alphabet. Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”

  She made a strangled sound that she tried to cover with a cough. “Damn it, Gannon.”

  “Princess, all’s fair in love and war.”

  “If that isn’t the biggest misstatement ever, I don’t know what is.”

  “Biggest demo bang for this floor is the kitchen and that horrible fridge. Then we can hit the master bath,” Gannon said, switching gears to throw her off balance.

  “Don’t destroy that tub,” Paige warned him.

  He held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  “Let’s rally the crews,” she said with a curt nod.

  He listened in as she talked her crew through the day, answering questions, delegating. She knew what she was doing. Giving everyone specific roles, detailed instructions. Paige wasn’t big on ambiguity. He’d learned that a little late.

  “Tony’s first unit this morning, and we’ve got Chantay and Nina on second unit. We’ll switch up this afternoon. Felicia’s our sound wizard for the duration, and Bradley is our very energetic production assistant. He’s also going to be equipped with a GoPro so he can pick up any behind-the-scenes stuff we might miss with the first or second unit.” Paige consulted her tablet. “Everyone set?”

  They nodded, glancing around their little circle.

  “Good. Let’s do the best job we can, be safe, learn something good, and try not to piss off Gannon. He can be temperamental.” She winked at him.

  “If I’m temperamental,” Gannon interrupted, stepping into their circle. “It’s because it’s warranted… mostly.”

  They grinned at him. He motioned his crew
over and made the introductions. And for those of you who don’t know, this is Eddie. Eddie’s our EP and money man, so definitely don’t piss him off.”

  Eddie doffed his cap affably.

  “And just so we’re on the same page,” Gannon continued. “We’re all going to get to know each other real well over the next few months. It’ll be hard work, but worth it. At least for me since I get to move in here in the end.”

  There were a few smiles, snickers. “Paige and I are going to treat you like family, and we expect you to return the courtesy. That means, what happens on set is family business, and it stays here. Got me?”

  Everyone nodded, and he caught Paige shooting him a warning look.

  “Here’s your first bit of family business. I’m in love with Paige here, but she won’t give me the time of day. So I’m going to be wearing her down during the course of this shoot, and I’d appreciate you all singing my praises to her.”

  “He isn’t totally hideous-looking, Paige,” Flynn called from the fringe of the circle.

  The crews chuckled, and Paige shot poisoned darts at him from blue, icy eyes.

  “Try a little harder than Flynn,” Gannon suggested. “Now, let me apologize to Paige for bringing up personal business, and then we can get our day started. Everyone can move out. I don’t know if this floor can hold all of us for much longer.”

  They dispersed, and Paige scowled at him. She yanked her headset off. “What the hell was that, Gannon?”

  “I’m putting everyone on the same field.”

  “I’m directing. I’m the boss.” She drilled a finger into his chest. “How am I going to be the boss when everyone has just been given permission to stick their noses into my private life?”

  “Honey, I don’t want to sneak around. I didn’t say you were panting after me, begging me for a quick bang.”

  She slapped a hand over his mouth. “Just. Stop. Talking. Or I’m going to use a nail gun to shut your mouth.”

  “We don’t have the air compressor hooked up yet,” he murmured against her palm.

  “I hope you fall through all four floors of this hellhole,” Paige snapped and started to walk away. But she spun around, stomped back. “You’ve told me that you love me twice. Once when I found out you’d lied, and again making a joke in front of my crew. For future reference, that’s not the best way to do it.”