Nailed. Christine d'Abo
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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