Читать книгу Nailed - Christine d'Abo - Страница 7

Chapter One

Production meeting for show Impact Load scheduled for 9:00 a.m. on site Monday. Walk-through and safety checks still required of building. Cam will be gaffing cables after meeting in prep for sound checks. Cast note: curious how Fynn will make out on this one—being pushed into spotlight and also working with the new girl. His preference to stay off camera won’t work this time if Carl has his way.

—Impact Load Production Notes, Brian Merrick, Director

It was a warm morning for early May in Toronto, and I wanted nothing more than to ditch my faux-leather jacket for something lighter. Not that I would. No friggin’ way. Not after the hours I’d spent picking this ensemble out, making sure I looked the part of the perfect television host. Today was launch day for Impact Load, my brand-new home-improvement show and dream come true. I only had one shot to make a good first impression on the production team and the film and building crews, which meant keeping my jacket in place and praying that I didn’t sweat like a man.

We were filming at Trinity House. God, I couldn’t believe I was back here after all this time. It’s weird how a place morphs into this giant thing in your brain as time passes. I was five when I first walked down this pathway toward the shelter with my mom. I swore the large house was actually a castle. It might as well have been given the tiny apartment we’d been living in previously. Now standing here, looking at the peaked roof and long windows with gingerbread woodwork and seeing how much the place had decayed since my mother and I had lived there, broke my heart. Twenty years can change a lot.

I would breathe life back into this place if I had to change out every single board in the building with my own bare hands. I owed it not only to Trinity House, but to myself. I had to give back to the place that gave me and my mom a fresh start, to ensure that other families would have a place to go. Plus, adding some stained-glass inlays to provide additional color and life would show off my design style for the show. That was the whole point of the program after all.

“Dammit, they’re all single-pane windows. That’s going to be expensive to switch out.”

I jumped and spun around so quickly my coffee sloshed out from the opening of its plastic lid and burned the side of my hand. “Shit!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The man was incredibly handsome, though his scowl made his full lips sag and his laugh lines droop. His black hair lacked any sort of obvious product and yet still managed to lie in exactly the best way possible to highlight his crystal-blue eyes. He looked familiar—I felt like I had seen him before. Or maybe it was just those insanely good looks.

He cleared his throat as his gaze slipped down my body.

Oh, hello there. “That’s okay. Good to know my coffee can wake me up one way or the other.” I’m not a natural flirt, but I like to try whenever the opportunity allows. This guy was a temptation I wouldn’t be able to resist. Plus, it would add some sizzle to my Monday morning.

“A shame. It’s a waste of good caffeine.” He wasn’t bad in the flirting department either. He hooked his thumb on his belt close to his groin, his fingers rubbing a small circle across the denim. Oh, yeah—that got me looking all right.

I jutted my hip out a bit when his gaze tracked down my legs. He looked away briefly, only for his gaze to flick up to my throat, which I immediately touched. I swore I heard his swallow from where I stood. “I’m sure I can find more if I need it.”

The hand that held his tablet flexed, causing the muscles of his biceps to flex. “I have no doubt you’d find an endless supply.”

I countered with a smile that Tamara once told me could melt any man’s heart. “No doubt.”

His frown morphed into a tiny smirk.

I shouldn’t preen, but damn he was hot—and it had been more than a little while for me. Yet this guy already seemed different from the typical type of guy I’d normally find following me at the bars. I immediately got a laid-back vibe from him, as though he was a man who’d be just as happy curled up on the couch watching television with a woman as he’d be actively seducing one. I liked TV as much as the next girl.

Almost as much as I liked getting seduced.

Tucking my hair behind my ear, I licked the now-cool coffee off the back of my hand. His eyes widened for a moment, but he didn’t look away. All too easy.

When his gaze lifted back to mine, a shiver of desire shot straight through me. I shouldn’t get wet from a single heated look from a guy, even if he was more than a little good-looking. That’s not normally my style.

But come on, he was hot and responsive and so very much my type. Not to mention that my active imagination was going into overtime envisioning what he’d be able to do with those large hands of his.

And maybe I was more than just a little hard up in the sex department. Getting ready for the show launch had eaten up my personal life. Meetings and promo shoots and budget reviews, and blah, blah, blah, until my head was ready to pop. I really didn’t have time for a relationship, but it wasn’t as though I wasn’t allowed to pick up a guy for a fling if I had an itch to scratch. Depending on how things went, maybe Mr. Good-Looking would be up for a quick tumble. “You’re a part of the film crew?” he asked. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he looked back at the house. And of course he had a nice profile.

“I guess you could say that. I’m Sophia Holbrook, the show’s host and the designer. Carl, the producer, had hired my company to do a small design project for his house and ended up proposing this television show. I’ve never done anything like this before, so I wanted to try and wrap my head around things before everyone arrived.” Truthfully, I’d barely slept last night. It’s amazing how many things there are to stress about when it comes to a new job. My biggest fear? Having my design ideas rejected by the television producers as being boring. Could home renos be boring? “Still, I’m really excited to get started with this project. This is the first time I’ve taken on something this big. Even though my business partner, Tamara, thinks we’re still too new, I can’t wait.”

The man closed his eyes and sighed. “Of course you’re the new designer.”

And why did that comment sound like the kiss of death?

“An inexperienced new designer.” He then muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, Thanks, Carl. “This will be fun.” He did not attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

I wasn’t sure why our conversation had suddenly taken such a negative turn, but I’ve never been one to sit back and wait for shit to hit me. The best defense is a good offense and all that. I mentally switched gears to professional mode and stuck my hand out. “Let’s start this again. Hi, I’m Sophia. And you are?”

His gaze flicked from my face to my hand and back before he slowly reached out and took it. “Fynn.”

I shivered as his long, thick fingers wrapped around my hand. His calluses were rough against my skin as he squeezed gently in greeting. It was easy to imagine what they would feel like slowly caressing my naked body. How easily he’d cup my breasts in his palms and pinch my hardened nipples.

You so need to get laid, girl.

We kept shaking hands far longer than was comfortable. I didn’t want to pull away and be the first one to break the contact, so I kept it going. “I take it, based on your comment about the windows, you’re with the construction team and not the TV crew.”

He snorted, but she caught the faint twitch of his lips. It was almost a smile, one that he looked to be fighting. “I’m not pretty enough to be on camera.”

Oh, I’d argue that point, sweetie. “Oh please, you’re a cutie and you know it. Besides, Reality Life isn’t so much about the looks of their stars as the stories the people want to tell. I’m thrilled that this exposure has come. My friend and I are just starting our business and could really use the boost.”

Fynn still had a hold on my hand—God, his fingers were so long—but for some reason he’d let go so fast my arm dropped. “You’re looking for publicity. Naturally.” Without missing a beat, he stepped back and flipped open his iPad cover. “Sorry, I better get a few things done before the others show up.”

And that was apparently that.

“Okay, well it was nice to meet—” He turned his back to me and stalked away in the direction of the backyard. There’s only one appropriate response to that sort of behavior. “Asshole.” I might have said that a bit louder than a mutter, but he didn’t respond.

It only took another few minutes before trucks and cars pulled onto the street surrounding the location. Men, women, construction trailers, people in all manner of clothing puttered around talking, laughing and drinking their coffee. I wanted nothing more than to go up to the closest group, butt in and introduce myself, but the vibe was all wrong. I didn’t want to piss anyone else off and make a mess of the show before I got started.

Not that I’d admit it to another living soul, but I was terrified of falling flat on my face.

In the blink of an eye I’d gone from design grad and small-business owner to reality TV lead. Sure, it hadn’t hurt my ego when the show’s producer Carl fawned all over my designs, allowing me to totally spaz out discussing engineered hardwood and the benefits of spray foam insulation. His wink and smile, followed by, “I knew you were the perfect person for this job,” hadn’t hurt either.

Tamara was right about one thing—if we were going to be successful in this business, it would take a lot more than good video editing. I’d have to nail every aspect of the renovation, not simply put together a nice design and hope for the best. To accomplish that I needed the support and expertise of every person on this crew. Which meant pulling up my big-girl panties, walking over there and introducing myself.

I got about three steps before I heard my name shouted from the road.

“Sophia!” The knot in my chest loosened as Carl emerged from a sleek Audi. “Excellent, I’m glad you made it in early.”

I was ready this time for his rather awkward hug that had his hands landing far closer to my ass than I preferred. At least he was consistent from our previous meetings. “Thanks. I could barely sleep I was so excited. I was here before everyone else.”

“Excited is good. You’re going to need that energy. Today is just going to be a walk around for the majority of us. I’ll introduce you to Brian, the director, and the team and then give you a chance to take some measurements. After that we’ll talk script and maybe set up a few opening shots once Brian knows where he wants to start.”

The toe of my shoe caught the curb as I stepped up, causing me to stumble. “Script?” Yes, it was a television show, but I wasn’t told that I’d have to memorize anything.

“Sure.” Carl waved to several people as we passed by, his plastered-on smile not slipping for an instant. “It won’t be anything too crazy to start out with. But we’ll want to make sure we get the opening nailed, evoke the right amount of pity from the audience for our cause, while letting them get to know you. Think about the image you want to project while you’re on camera. Elvis! I want you to meet the designer.”

Sometime in the next hour Tamara—my best friend in addition to being my business partner—also arrived. I managed a little wave as I was pulled along, but I was being drowned in the million things that I’d have to learn as host. I wished I could talk to her now, but I knew that she’d track me down and grill me the second I was free. I might be the face of our little team, but Tamara was the brains. The more she knew the better off we’d all be.

By the time everyone met in the living room of the house, I didn’t know if I was coming or going. The room had been cleaned up enough to allow four large tables to be brought in for the meeting. Names and faces had blurred together to the point where it was only a matter of time before I’d be embarrassing myself. Even my early-morning blast of caffeine was no longer helping my brain to function.

Shit, maybe this whole thing had been a mistake.

Carl pulled out a chair for me, giving me no choice as to where to sit. He announced, “Okay people, we need to get this meeting started. I know a bunch of you want to have a chance to get familiar with the site before work starts tomorrow.” He paused long enough to let the others find their spots, mumbling names under his breath. “Where the hell is Fynn?”

“I saw him earlier.” Somehow I’d managed to forget about the far-too-handsome though overly broody man since our conversation earlier that morning. I guess I was more freaked out than I’d realized. “He was here before you arrived.”

“He’s hiding. Russ, go find your boss.”

“Yup.”

“Boss?” Of course he’d end up being in charge of something. And I’d somehow annoyed him before we’d even begun. Great.

Carl took the seat beside me, pulling out a laptop as he did. “Yes, he’ll be the site foreman and your costar.”

That arrogant asshole was going to be my costar? “I’m sorry, who is he again?”

Carl forgot whatever document he was reviewing long enough to throw a frown my way. “You don’t know who Fynn Babineau is? Seriously?”

I looked over and caught Tamara’s eye. Her black hair was neatly arranged into a top bun, tendrils having been strategically pulled down to soften the look. It would have been beautiful if not for her pained expression.

“You clearly don’t watch our channel. That’s like saying you don’t know who Mike Holmes is.”

“Oh please, everyone knows him.” And I’d totally shit myself if I ever met him in person. Canadian construction god! “Seriously though, I’ve been off the digital grid for a while.” Actually, I couldn’t afford cable when I was going through school. I’d had to bribe Tamara with pizza and beer to record Grey’s Anatomy for me. Pain. In. The. Ass!

Carl waved his hand in a way that seemed to hold some significance to him. I barely managed to duck out of its path. “His team is the crew of King Stud Construction.”

The words had barely left Carl’s mouth when Fynn reemerged from the back. You know when people say things hit them like a lightning strike? That’s exactly what happened to me—why he looked familiar, the article in the Toronto Gleaner about the fraud accusations, everything. “Oh. That Fynn Babineau.”

One second I was staring at Fynn, the next Carl turned me awkwardly by the shoulder to lean into my personal space. He spoke in a low, serious tone. “I want you to know that he was innocent. Not just found innocent of the charges, but actually innocent. The suing company was out to take someone for a ride and Fynn just happened to be the target.” His eyes lost that business spark and grew hard. “Fynn’s a good guy and my client. If you do anything to damage his reputation with this show, I will make it my personal mission to make sure you never get hired for anything beyond paint jobs ever again. Understand?”

I tried to pull away, put some distance between us, but Carl’s hold was firm. “Please, let me go.”

“Is there a problem, Carl?” I looked up to see a frowning Fynn standing half a foot away. His gaze flicked to where Carl gripped me. “I take it this is my seat.”

As quickly as his mood had turned dark, Carl was back to his smiling self and released me. “Saved the best spot for the star of the show.”

Fynn caught my eye and gave me an inquisitive look for a moment before he took his seat on the opposite side of Carl. “I only agreed to be on camera and talk a bit. I’m no star and you know it.”

Ignoring him, Carl clapped his hands together, grabbing everyone’s attention. “I think we’re all here now, so let’s get started. Welcome to day one of Impact Load. Our new show features the lovely Sophia Holbrook as our lead designer and Fynn Babineau as our contractor. Brian Merrick on my far left is our director.”

The next part of the meeting was led by Tamara, dissolving into discussion of shooting and work schedules, timelines and budgets. Tamara sounded as though she’d been doing this her entire life rather than for only a year. I hadn’t seen her earn that much respect that quickly before. It was amazing.

“Thank you, Tamara.” Carl’s smile widened. “Having you in charge of the financials from the design end has me confident that everything will stay well on track. And now I think it’s time we hear from our cohost and lead designer, Sophia.”

My legs wobbled a bit as I stood. “Thank you. I know I’m new to the reality TV world, but I want you all to know that I plan to give this project my all.”

Most of the people looking at me wore a vacant expression. I prayed that was due to the early hour and not a testament of how bored they were. If only they knew how important this project was to me, they’d understand how hard I would work.”

Well then, girl, tell them.

“Trinity House is an extra-special place to me. Not only did my mom work here for a number of years, but early in my life, we lived in this house together. I know every nook and cranny of this place. I could probably even tell you stories about where some of the holes in those walls came from. This project isn’t so much about designing a new building, but creating a new home for women and children who have no place else to go.”

At some point my nerves slipped away and I ran with my new role as host. The longer I spoke, the more the people around the tables lost the look of bored dismissal and started nodding with appreciation. “I know your passion for building quality homes is only rivaled by your passion for helping. By being a part of this project, you’ll be touching the lives of countless individuals, now and for years to come.” Yes! I was rocking it!

“The one thing I want everyone to keep in mind is that Trinity House is more than an old rundown dump we’re trying to bring some life back to.” I made sure to meet the gaze of each person there. “This will be the one place these women and children will be able to count on. We need to make it special. They deserve to have that after everything else they’ve gone through. It’s our chance to show them that there are people out there who care about what happens to them.”

In a blink the crew started applauding and I knew I wore a grin a mile wide. It was the most perfect moment, one that wouldn’t have gone better if I’d written it and cued the crowd to cheer myself.

It took me a minute to realize that there was a young guy holding a video camera standing in the back of the room. He gave me a thumbs-up when I stared a few moments too long before calling out, “I got it, boss.” Then as suddenly as everything started, the entire room went silent.

What the hell...

“Well done.” Carl leaned back against his seat. “Maybe we don’t need to worry about a script after all. That was better than I assumed you’d be able to manage.”

“What?” I sunk back into her chair, my stomach churning. “I didn’t plan that. It just...came out.”

“That’s what makes it great, kid.” Carl clapped once more. “Okay, now that we’ve done our intro, it’s time to get to work. Everyone knows what’s expected of them. The next few days better go without a hitch if we want to get on track for the first milestone.”

The group eventually broke up, but I didn’t have the strength to get up. Tamara started to come over, but she was intercepted by a small group of people. She looked helplessly at me and mouthed accountants, before they guided her out of the room.

Fynn cleared his throat, and it was only then that I realized he was still there. God, I must look like some posturing idiot to him. Before I could say anything in my own defense, he turned to face me.

“I’m going to give you a little friendly advice.” His voice was low and gravelly, as though he hadn’t spoken in years instead of minutes. “I’m telling you this because you haven’t been around much and I get the impression you actually care about your job and what you’re doing here.”

I tried to speak, but Fynn held up his hand, silencing me.

“Carl’s a shark. He will push you as far as he thinks you can go. Then he’ll nudge you some more. Don’t let him do that. Also, this crew won’t respect you until you’ve earned it. They’ll do what you ask, but they won’t stop you from shooting yourself in the foot.”

I nodded. Maybe Tamara was right after all and this was way more than I could handle right out of the gate. The entire team thought I’d planned that moment, rather than speaking from my heart.

Great. “How do I earn their respect?”

“Know your shit. Don’t jerk people around. Be up front. Treat people like the professionals they are.”

“Simple as that?”

“Yes.” He got to his feet and started to follow where the others had gone.

“Fynn?”

“Yeah?”

“How do I win you over?”

With a final look over his shoulder, he gave his head a small shake and smiled sadly.

I sat there for a long time after he left, trying to hold back the tears, wondering if it was too late to back out.