“Welcome to another episode of Handymen. I’m Michael Zorn. My brothers and I help families turn their renovation dreams into reality.” Michael walked up the steps to the Beatrice Street house, keeping his eye on the camera. “Today, we’re here with Emily and Trent, a great couple who hope to transform Emily’s grandmother’s former home into the setting for a thriving business. Come on in. Soup’s on.”
“Cut.” Lacey made a slashing gesture at her throat.
“What was wrong with it this time?”
“I’m sorry, Michael. It sounds forced when you say ‘Soup’s on.’”
“That’s because never, in a million years, would I say ‘Soup’s on.’”
From behind his camera, Louie laughed. “Sounds like you should be standing on a porch, clanging a triangle for some hungry cowboys.”
“Who asked you?” said Lacey. “Listen, Michael. I write the script. You stick to reading it, okay?”
“Okay. Want me to do it again?”
“No. Maybe later if we have time. I’ll take what we’ve got to editing for now. I might be able to work some magic. Let’s take it from the meet-and-greet with Emily and Trent inside.”
Michael had already met Emily, of course, and had met the elusive Trent earlier that morning. He hadn’t been impressed.
Trent hadn’t been rude to Michael. In fact, he’d barely said anything to him at all. However, an air of entitlement wafted about him and his upturned nose like fog clinging to a Victorian London lamppost in a cheesy film about Jack the Ripper. Maybe it was Trent’s ever-present smirk. Then again, maybe it was the fact he wore his flashy red jeans a little too tight. Either way, Andrews struck him as the sort of man who seemed to feel life owed him something. As someone who’d had to work hard to get where he was, Michael resented people who expected the universe to magically provide whatever they needed.
His good opinion might have been salvaged if it hadn’t been for the fact Andrews had been condescending to Emily in the presence of others. That one “no-no,” now a cardinal sin in Michael’s book, meant all bets were off.
“It’s so nice of you all to support my fiancée as she works toward fulfilling her little dream,” Andrews had said that morning.
Little dream?
Michael had ground his teeth, counting to three before responding. “I think Emily’s doing a great thing. She’s promoting a healthy lifestyle, good nutrition, and she’s rescuing her grandmother’s house. We’re all eager to help her build a home for her business.”
Andrews had pretended not to hear him and had looked away but his was not the opinion Michael sought. He’d looked to Emily in that moment instead.
She might like to pretend her fiancé’s comment hadn’t hit home, but the dark circles under her eyes spoke volumes. All the concealer in the world hadn’t disguised them.
In spite of the excitement surrounding the shoot, Emily wasn’t happy. The knowledge made his gut roil.
As he walked inside the house now, followed by the cameraman, he reminded himself not to clench his fists. This shoot had him on edge. As another headache swarmed his frontal lobe, he checked the time. He’d taken his headache pills only an hour ago. Why hadn’t they started working? He knew it was too soon to take anymore, but he was tempted to pop another couple.
Listen to yourself. You sound like an addict. Bracing himself, Michael prepared his next line.
Emily stood inside the living area, next to Trent. Nick and Eli flanked them. Emily looked at Michael and her mouth spread in a wide grin. He fought the sucker punch to his gut. For some reason, her smile deadened the throb in his head. She made him feel good. He wanted to make her smile too. Call him a fool, but he hadn’t seen her look at Trent like that. Granted, he’d only seen them together for part of the morning, but anyone could tell the relationship was strained.
It must be the camera. It made some people nervous.
Maybe it made other people assholes.
He didn’t know how Trent could act like such an idiot with a woman like Emily at his side. Dark circles notwithstanding, Emily looked as adorable today as she did the last time Michael saw her. She wore another figure-hugging pair of jeans. Her slim T-shirt had a decal that said “Acme Trucking.” The logo amused him because she looked nothing like a trucker. Her cropped blonde hair was slicked back away from her forehead, and her green eyes sparkled. Most of the women Michael knew wore their hair long. He liked Emily’s short hair and could imagine himself running his fingers through it, playing with the shaved bits at the nape of her neck.
Whoa. This is not good. Get a hold of yourself. Those pills are making you delusional.
Schooling his features, Michael tried to remember his lines but forgot what Lacey had penned. He improvised. “So, Emily. Tell us about your neck. Excuse me, your business.”
Thanks to her obvious nerves, she didn’t seem to catch his slip of the tongue. “Well, Michael. When I was a little girl, my grandmother taught me how to make her famous minestrone. She and I experimented a lot in the kitchen for many years. I guess you could say I got hooked on cooking a long time ago. Although I didn’t study as a chef, it’s always been a big hobby of mine.”
Was it Michael’s imagination, or did Trent grunt when she said the word hobby?
“A couple of years ago,” Emily continued, “I decided I wanted to launch my business with an emphasis on healthy eating. I began compiling the recipes I created with my grandmother.”
Michael held up a mason jar labeled From Scratch. Filled with layers of colorful spices and lentils, and tied off with a ribbon at the lid, it looked like a great gift. It also made him hungry. “So this is a labor of love?”
“Very much so.” Emily grabbed Trent’s hand. “And I’m lucky my fiancé is a talented professional chef. Trent has lots of helpful tips and tricks.” Her voice cracked. “He shares them with me all the time.”
Michael was about to invite Trent to say something about his work, but the man leaned in and monopolized the camera. “I can’t take any credit for Emily’s recipes, as much as I’d like to share some of my artistry. She prefers the rustic approach. Personally, I’m not a fan of peasant food. I prefer using gourmet ingredients and methods. My little firecracker won’t let me polish her rough diamonds, though.”
Lacey called “cut” while she dealt with a camera malfunction issue. The makeup woman brought Emily and Trent over to the side of the set so she could touch up their faces.
Eli pulled Michael aside. “Did that guy just call his girlfriend’s recipes peasant food?”
Michael tapped his foot repeatedly. “I don’t like him. I don’t like his hipster hair, I don’t like his tight jeans, and I don’t like the way he talks about Emily.”
Nick approached, a tease in his lowered voice. “But you do like Emily?”
“Shut up, Nick.” Michael walked over to where Lacey worked. “Lacey, I want those comments about peasant food and rough diamonds edited out.”
“What’s wrong with peasant food? It’s a movement in the culinary industry.”
“Yeah, well, when Trent says it, he makes it sound like an insult.”
“With all due respect, Michael, why should you care?”
“I care because if he comes off sounding like a douchebag, our show will come off the same way. You said important people are watching us. Do you want them to get the wrong idea about Handymen?”
Lacey batted her false eyelashes. “Of course not. We wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, would we? We’re all about clarity, aren’t we?”
“Don’t make this about something else.”
“Don’t worry, Michael. When we’ve changed the battery on this camera, we’ll do another take. Perhaps Trent will sound less insulting on the second try.”
Michael headed back to his spot and tried not to glare at Trent. However, as soon as the man spoke to Emily, Michael’s attention was diverted.
“Em,” said Trent as the makeup woman dusted his nose. “I’m not sure you should have worn those jeans. I don’t think they flatter your figure.”
“What do you mean?” Emily’s eyes widened.
Even the makeup lady raised her eyebrows in a silent warning.
Trent shrugged. “They make you look hippy, that’s all.”
“Oh, gee, thanks very much.”
Hippy? Michael stared, aghast. Emily’s hips were just as they ought to be. Round and curvy, just the sort of hips a man would enjoy caressing. Where did Andrews get off?
He came to the conclusion he hated the man.
Perhaps he was being somewhat harsh. Hate was a strong word. In general, he didn’t like using it.
He disliked Trent Andrews. To an extreme degree. Sort of the way a person with a sensitive nose might feel about body odor.
Michael stepped forward but Eli grabbed him by the elbow. “Stop right there. I can see the smoke coming out of your ears.”
“You heard what he said, right?”
“I did.”
“And what are your impressions?”
Eli rubbed his chin. “I think he’s trying to prove something. I think he’s dealing with a major inferiority complex.”
“I think he’s a pig.”
“Succinct as always, brother. Look, Michael. This isn’t your fight. She’s not your woman, and if you rush in there, coming to her defense, you might make things awkward for her. Trent might not actually be a bad guy. Maybe he’s having an off day.”
An off day. He supposed it might be possible. Michael had certainly had his share. Eli was right. He’d only just met Emily in person for God’s sake. Simmer down.
As middle brother, Eli had often stepped in to stem fights between Michael and Nick when they were younger. Eli had the coolest head of the three and he was correct in this situation as well. Emily was not Michael’s woman.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t the first time in their short acquaintance Michael regretted the current state of affairs.
He knew he had no right being offended on Emily’s behalf. She was a grown woman. After she’d told him the story about her rebellious grandmother, Michael suspected the same strong-willed traits traveled down the family line to Emily. So why did she let Trent talk to her like that? He knew love did strange things to a person, but he just didn’t envision Emily as a doormat.
Something else was at work there.
It was probably best he didn’t try to figure it out. He had enough on his plate as it was.
As soon as Trent made a beeline for the portable toilet out back, Michael forgot every single one of his intentions to remain distant. He shot Eli a look.
His brother shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’m just going to talk to her.” He headed over to where Emily was standing. “Hi, Emily.”
“Hey. You can call me Em, if you’d like. All my friends do.”
“I’d like that, Em. I wanted to see if you were okay.”
“Of course. I’m nervous, being on TV and all. Thank goodness this isn’t live.” She lay a hand on his arm. “I hope my nerves don’t show.”
“Not at all. You’re great at this. Look, I know I’m overstepping my bounds, but I couldn’t help overhearing what Trent said to you.”
“Excuse me?”
“He’s tossed out a couple of comments that seemed to make you uncomfortable. I’ll be honest, they made me uncomfortable too.”
Fire flashed in her green eyes but she took a breath and the flames disappeared. “Is that so?”
“I’m just saying what I think.”
“Clearly.” She averted her gaze. When she spoke, her voice had lost its warmth. “I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable.”
“I know it’s not my business.”
“You’re right. It’s not.”
Michael put up his hands in surrender. “Forget I said anything.”
Emily sighed. “Michael, I’m sorry. Trent and I have been going through a rough time.” She lowered her voice. “He recently lost his job. It’s been hard on him.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“In his industry, names get passed around. People talk. He’s frustrated at not being able to land a new role. I can see he’s itching to get back into a professional kitchen.”
“I’m not a cook, but I can understand what he’s feeling. We’ve all had job issues. We’ve all been there, but is he taking it out on you?”
“No, of course not. I mean, I can see how it might look that way. He’s stressed.”
“He’s lucky to have a supportive fiancée.”
Her shoulders rose and fell in a silent laugh. “Oh, yeah. I’m a saint.”
Against his better judgment, Michael touched Emily. It was an innocent touch, just a grazing of her arm, and it was meant in the spirit of friendly comfort. It only served to heighten his senses. She was soft and warm, and he wanted to touch her some more, to be able to explore the curve of her shoulder and the crook of her neck. Steeling himself against a barrage of unwanted sensation, he licked his lips and spoke. “Everyone gets stressed. We’ve all said things we don’t mean. But Em, don’t let him talk down to you. You deserve better than that.”
Her throat moved as she swallowed, but she didn’t respond.
Michael released her arm, knowing he should before anyone got the wrong idea. “And for the record, you’re not hippy. Your hips are perfect.”
Emily’s lips fell open.
He turned and walked away before his mouth betrayed him any further. As he looked up, he met Lacey’s gaze. Her eyes flitted between him and Emily. She’d clearly seen his exchange with their guest.
Let her think he was flirting. He knew the truth. He’d witnessed a man insult his fiancée and he wanted to make her feel better. That was it.
At another time, Michael might have been concerned. He might have felt a need to go out of his way and placate Lacey, to assure her nothing was going on between him and Emily.
Only right now he didn’t give a flying fuck what she thought.
***
By the time the second day of renovation and filming rolled around, Michael was already pleased with the team’s progress. It helped they employed a large crew, one that consisted of their own plumbing and electrical experts. Michael could handle any of these jobs himself, but having a good team allowed him to assume the role of team lead, assuring each job was handled to his precise standards.
It was one of the things he’d insisted on when taking the job on Handymen. The Inspiration Network might want him to play Bob Vila, but he needed to know the work was being done exactly as he would have done it in any other situation.
Of course, that didn’t stop him from diving into the fray as well. Being a site manager had its perks, but he was never happiest than when installing a new hardwood floor or putting the finishing touches on a new kitchen.
As he walked through the house, Michael checked off the items on his mental “to do” list. Nick and Eli managed their own smaller teams in their respective areas and wouldn’t need help, but Michael checked on both of them. Eli and his group were busy out front, removing wheelbarrow loads of the old, dry sod. As for Nick, he worked with his team in the backyard, preparing for the new deck.
Emily was busy in the kitchen with one of the men on Michael’s team, discussing the location for the new pantry cupboard. Although the plan was to convert the house into a store, Emily and Michael had agreed on keeping a full working kitchen. She wanted to be able to prepare her recipes on site, as well as package them. She needed plenty of workspace, good appliances, and storage options.
Trent was supposed to be helping her right now. Lacey wanted lots of shots of the happy couple together, tackling the renovation. However, he was nowhere to be found.
Michael’s dander went up right away. The same thing had happened a couple of times during the first day of filming. Trent had a habit of wandering away when he was supposed to be glued to Emily’s side, helping her with various projects. Each time, they’d had to send someone in search of him. Emily didn’t seem to notice, too occupied in absorbing everything the team members taught her.
Michael spotted Lacey on the phone, just inside the foyer, and decided to check in with her before he went in search of the nomadic fiancé. “Where’s Trent?”
Lacey shrugged. “Isn’t he with Emily?”
“Nope.”
“I need to film the two of them in the kitchen any minute now.” Lacey called out to the show’s intern, a kid named Jacob. “Jacob, sweetie. Would you be a dear and go fetch Trent from wherever he is this time?”
“Never mind,” Michael muttered. “I’ll find him.”
Still mumbling, more annoyed than he probably should be, Michael headed outside. He checked the driveway, making sure to look between the large equipment trailers, and glanced down each end of the street. He followed the cracked paving stones up the left side of the house, the ones Eli was dying to replace. Trent wasn’t in the backyard either.
On a hunch, Michael looked around the other side of the house, the one blocked off with a rickety side gate. He heard Trent’s voice before he saw the man. Trent stood facing away and spoke to someone on his cellphone.
“I can’t tonight. I told you I have this stupid Handymen thing.”
Stupid? They were practically handing his fiancé a new store. Michael almost said something then and there but the next thing Trent said caught him off guard.
“Baby, don’t tease me. It’s hard enough being away from you. I need you to be patient and I’ll get away as soon as I can.”
The little fucker. A douchebag and a cheater.
Michael turned away, telling himself it wasn’t his business, but something made him stay. Maybe it had to do with how wonderful Emily was and the fact she was about to saddle herself to a total dipshit. Then again, maybe it was because he was dying to tell the man what he really thought of him. He leaned on the gate between them and knocked three times on the wood. “Sorry to disturb you.”
Trent froze and slowly looked over his shoulder. He could almost hear the man’s wheels turning as he told himself to act casual. Nothing to see here, buddy. I’m just keeping another woman on the side.
“Oh, hey, Michael.”
“Hey, yourself.”
Trent spoke quietly into his phone. “I need to go. Talk to you later.” He put the phone away and approached the gate. When he reached for the latch, Michael held it shut.
“So,” he said, grinning. “How’s it going?”
“Uh, fine, thanks.”
“Awesome. I’ve got to admit, you’ve piqued my curiosity by hiding away out here. You must have been talking to somebody important to take you away from your work and Emily.”
“Yeah. I needed to return a call.”
“I see. And is Baby doing well? I hear she can be quite a tease.”
“Look—”
“No, you look. I was already pissed off at having to chase you down for the next shot. But now that I hear—”
“You haven’t heard anything, just a snippet of a conversation with an old friend.”
“That must be some friendship.”
Trent angled his head in a gesture of defiance. “I don’t see what it has to do with you.”
“I’d be willing to bet it has a lot to do with Emily. I think she deserves to know.”
“Know what? That you like snooping?”
“Don’t make this about me, Andrews. I only went looking for you because we have a schedule to maintain. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re renovating your fiancée’s house and you can’t even stay in the house for more than five minutes at a time.” Michael looked him in the eye. “I have no respect for cheaters.”
“When I meet one, I’ll give him the heads up.” He had the gall to chuckle. “Do you make a habit of taking conversations out of context, bro?”
“Not at all, bro. Don’t act innocent with me. I heard enough to know you’re playing Emily.”
“It’s your word against mine. Who do you think Emily will believe? Her loving fiancé or a man she just met?”
“I love calling a bluff. Let’s find out.” Michael turned.
“Wait.” Trent gripped the gate. “Please. You don’t understand. Things have been hard for Emily and me. I reached out to an old friend, just to talk, I swear. She made assumptions. She’s the sort of woman who gets clingy. I haven’t had the heart to break it to her yet. I’m devoted to Emily.”
“Are you? I wouldn’t know. I’m just a stupid handyman.”
Trent’s nervous laughter set him even more on edge. “You heard that too, huh? It’s nothing personal. I’ve never been handy around the home. My talents are in the kitchen. I need to hire people like you to change a lightbulb.”
“Enough of this shit. Tell Emily or I will.”
He didn’t stick around while Trent continued to sputter. Michael marched through the backyard, averting his gaze from the crew members there. Surely his face was red. It felt hot enough. Even his neck felt hot and sticky with nervous perspiration.
How could he? With a sweet woman like Emily…
Michael plowed around the corner of the house and almost collided with her.
She held out her hands and laughed. “Whoa! So that’s what it’s like to run into a brick wall.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching.”
“It’s okay. Lacey sent me to find you. Have you seen Trent?”
“Um, yeah. He said to say he’s on his way.” He put a hand on Emily’s elbow. “Let’s go inside. I don’t want to keep Lacey waiting any longer.”
“Sure.”
Thank God she didn’t suspect anything. Why would she? Emily was a kind-hearted soul, the kind who probably always thought the best of people.
I have to tell her.
And yet Michael couldn’t find the words. Not here, not now. He cursed Trent for putting him in this situation. Now, if Michael spilled the beans, he’d look like the bad guy, trying to destroy a relationship. And for what?
Was it possible his determination to tell Emily had less to do with honesty and more to do with his major boner for the woman?
Hell, yeah.
Maybe he should just keep his trap shut and let things unfold as they would. She was smart. She’d figure it out.
As the two of them entered the house, Emily turned to him, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Michael, I just want to thank you again. I’m learning so much and I’ve never had so much fun learning. This experience is a dream come true.”
Michael nodded in acknowledgment, hoping it wouldn’t end as a nightmare.
***
“A couple of the crew members invited us out for a celebratory beer,” Emily told Trent as work wrapped up for the day. She crossed her fingers. “I think we should go.”
“Will Michael be there?”
“I suppose so.” She hoped so. “Does it make a difference?”
“I think we should head home. Aren’t you tired? I’m tired. You don’t want to overwork yourself. It’s another big day tomorrow.”
It had been a big day. They’d filmed a couple of introductory sequences for Lacey and had ripped out the old kitchen cupboards and drawers. Some of the men had started patching up the chips in the walls upstairs, in the rooms that would be used for storage. Emily did feel the pinch of fatigue in her shoulders but it was a good burn.
If Trent was tired, she didn’t quite understand why. He hadn’t exactly pulled his weight. In fact, if she had to list his activities, his main focus seemed to be glaring at Michael while keeping Emily out of the contractor’s path.
Something was up.
“Trent, are you okay? You’ve been acting weird today.” Weirder than usual.
“God, Em. When did you become so suspicious?”
“I’m not suspicious. I’m demonstrating my consideration for you.”
“Just because I don’t want to grab a beer with Michael Zorn and his muscle-headed underlings doesn’t mean something is wrong.”
“Muscle-headed?”
“In fact, I was hoping to do a bit of networking tonight…job hunting.”
“Job hunting. At night?”
“You know what the restaurant business is like, Em. Everything happens at night. Besides, as long as I’m here with you, working on the house, I can’t interview during the day.”
And yet another guilt trip found a home in her chest. “Okay, but…”
“I made plans to see someone in the industry to talk about some possibilities. It means a lot to me.”
“That sounds promising.”
“Yeah.” Trent looked over her shoulder. “It should be promising.”
The Zorn brothers headed toward the door. Nick called out, “Hey, guys. I heard you might be coming for drinks.”
Emily glanced at Michael, whose face was set in stone. He eyed Trent, one eyebrow raised, and then looked away in clear disgust. His expression confirmed her suspicions the two of them had been shooting dirty looks at each other all afternoon.
Trent put his arm around Emily’s shoulders and spoke for her. “Em’s tired. I told her she should go home and rest.”
Michael leaned against the wall, regarding them through hooded eyes. “Maybe Em should speak for herself.”
“Michael’s right. I have a mouth.” Emily frowned at Trent. “So let me get this straight. You want to go out tonight…for networking purposes, but you want me to stay home on my own?”
“Well, when you put it that way.” A show of color danced across Trent’s cheeks, a veritable Aurora Borealis of embarrassment. “I just don’t want you to strain yourself. Don’t forget you have a touch of tendinitis in your left arm.”
“My right arm, actually. It’s only ever been my right arm.”
“Either way, I’d like to know you’re all rested up for tomorrow.” He smiled, the first one she’d seen in a long time, but it didn’t come anywhere close to reaching his eyes. His baby blues barely twinkled.
Trent did have a point. Michael and his crew were accustomed to heavy lifting and days full of physical exertion. Emily was not. She probably shouldn’t overdo it, but she didn’t appreciate the way Trent made his worries known. She’d been begging him to go out for weeks and he’d refused. Now she had an opportunity to grab a refreshing beer with some nice people and he wanted her to stay home and nurse her wrist on the off chance it might just start to hurt?
“I’m sure Trent only has your best interests at heart,” called Michael from the porch. “Don’t you, bro?”
Trent steered her toward the car door. “Exactly. See you guys tomorrow.”
Emily halted in her tracks, her hand on her car door handle. “Actually, I’d like to go out for a drink. Don’t worry. I’ll make it a quick one, so I’ll still have lots of time to rest my aging bones.”
“Emily…”
“Enjoy your networking, Trent. I hope it goes well. Call me, okay? I’ll be crossing my fingers for you.”
“Yeah, whatever you say.” Trent threw a look at Michael and walked away to his car. He didn’t kiss her good-bye. Hell, at this point, she would have settled for a shake of her hand or even a friendly noogie. It was as if he’d stopped touching her in any way.
As his car pulled away, Michael and his brothers approached. Michael touched Emily’s shoulder, and there was more warmth in his small gesture than in any of Trent’s expressions of concern for her wellbeing.
“I’m glad you’re coming. We won’t keep you out partying all night long. I promise.”
“Hmm.” Emily stopped glaring at Trent’s imaginary exhaust fumes and looked at Michael. “Who says I won’t keep you out partying all night long?”
Three matching grins met her gaze.
“This one’s trouble,” said Eli.
“Knew it when I met her,” replied Nick.
“Come on, Trouble.” Michael took her hand and curled it around his elbow. “One of our haunts is just around the corner, within stumbling distance. So if we have too much fun, we can all crash at Nonna’s place and still be fresh for tomorrow.”
Emily tried to come back with a witty comment but they’d all dried up in her throat when she considered having a sleepover with Michael and his brothers.
She had the sneaking suspicion she’d arrived at a new milestone with Trent, one she wouldn’t celebrate in her later years. She’d disagreed with him in public. Of course, he had made a silly suggestion in telling her to go home and rest. Last she checked, she was still thirty-two, not seventy-five.
One thing was clear. It wasn’t so much that he wanted her to take a breather. He just didn’t want her associating with Michael.
Did he suspect she had a fascination for the contractor?
It didn’t matter. She hadn’t done anything wrong and wasn’t planning on ruining her relationship with Trent.
Only, more and more, she was beginning to wonder if she even had one.