CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Catalina King was generally a sane, stable human being. Sure, sometimes she was flighty and irresponsible. But between managing her or Gannon into a productive, helpful mood, Paige would take Cat every damn time.
However, on the birthday Cat shared with her brother, the tables turned, and she became the unmanageable one. The whole crew took the opportunity to call it a night a little early on set and hit whatever hole-in-the-wall bar chosen by the network’s location manager who scouted families and towns prior to shooting. Massive quantities of beer, tequila, and nachos were consumed. It was a good mid-season break, provided no one got too shit-faced or too hung-over, which Cat always did.
Paige never let loose like the rest of them. She considered herself to be Cat’s unofficial babysitter, and knowing that his sister was looked after, Gannon never went. Probably because Cat might use the drunken binge to pick up guys. And, while Cat enjoyed the birthday spectacle, Gannon preferred to celebrate in private… alone.
“You need to try this on,” Cat said, thrusting a filmy white button down shirt into Paige’s hand. They’d just wrapped up an offset shoot involving Cat shopping for the perfect princess bedding for Malia and, with everything under control on the set, hit a department store for some impromptu shopping.
“What would I wear this with?” Paige asked, wrinkling her nose.
“Black bra underneath, your cutie cute denim shorts that show off your perfect legs, and those brown leather sandals. Guys love it when things wrap up girls’ legs,” Cat insisted knowledgeably.
“You’re not trying to get me laid, are you?” Paige asked with suspicion, holding the shirt up in front of her.
“And what exactly is wrong with that?” Cat countered.
Paige thought about it a beat. It had been a longer-than-usual dry spell. But she wasn’t into the whole one- or two-night stand on the road thing. It was just awkward, weird.
Before she could craft her answer, Cat continued. “Look, this isn’t necessarily about sex. You’re nearing end-of-season exhaustion already and we’re only halfway through filming. I just want you to have a night off where you can slap on some makeup and a smile and enjoy yourself. Is that too much to ask?”
Paige sighed mightily. “No, I suppose not.”
“Good. Now bring the shirt, we’ve got bras to shop for.”
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Cat and her design sensibilities were right as usual, Paige thought, studying herself from the waist up in her hotel room’s bathroom mirror. She’d done a half tuck with the button down that she wore over the fancy bralette that had caught her eye with its lace back. Cat had talked her into a chunky belt and a layered necklace with a crescent moon and stars.
Paige had put some effort into her hair, giving some lift and texture to her short bob with strategic messy waves. She kept her makeup simple but pretty, and damn if she didn’t feel good about her reflection. Maybe, just maybe, with #NapsWithGannon trending and her first on camera one-on-ones behind her, things would start looking up.
Paige gave her hair a final fluff with her fingers and grabbed her bag. Checking that her phone was charged, she stuffed her hotel key in her back pocket and headed for Cat’s room.
Shaney’s Pub was exactly the kind of local watering hole that the crew favored. It had a menu full of deep fried delicacies and forty beers on tap. And it was packed.
Cat’s entrance brought with it the usual stir in the crowd, but as they most often found, locals of smaller towns were more respectful of her time and space. This suburb of Portland was no different. After a handful of polite autograph requests, everyone settled back into their Friday night routine.
Paige perched at a high-top table in the bar with the members of her team rotating in and out of the other seat. It was fun to see everyone cut a little loose, she thought, nursing her beer. And it said a lot about them that even mid-season they still chose to spend their down time together.
Felicia, in jeans and Steely Dan t-shirt, plunked down across from Paige and fished a cheese stick off of the appetizer plate. “So, how’s it feel to be talent?” she asked, biting into the melted cheese.
Paige groaned. “How long do you think they’ll play this out until they give up on it? I’m not bringing anything to the table with my scripted behind-the-scenes observations.” Yesterday she’d muddled through it, avoiding any emotional hotspots in her answers to Andy’s questions and guessed that she came across as more hostile than anything else.
“It’s all part of the game.” Felicia had been in the game for a good number of years more than Paige. She’d seen it all as reality TV evolved. “You know, just because the network is hoping for some crazy affair with you and Gannon doesn’t mean it’s a terrible idea.”
Paige gaped at her friend.
Felicia shrugged her broad shoulders. “All I’m saying is don’t let them pull your strings, and don’t let them scare you off of something that might be great. Just because they want it for ratings doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be a good thing for you personally.”
“Me and Gannon?” Paige was still stunned.
“The way you two rub each other the wrong way? That’s all spark. You just might combust someday.” Felicia glanced over her shoulder at her name being called. “Looks like I’m up in darts.” And with that, she left Paige gaping after her.
She didn’t have much time to be shocked. The Friday night entertainment, a five-piece country cover band, was pumping out an enthusiastic beat. Cat spotted her and towed her out onto the crowded dance floor.
“Let’s see if your feet remember how to do anything besides stand all day,” Cat yelled over the music.
Paige gave up on trying to think or maintain her wallow and matched Cat’s footwork. Cat loved to dance when she was sober, and she became much more aggressive about her love when she drank. It was Paige’s job to keep her entertained and hydrated so she didn’t try to disappear with a stranger or drink so much that she’d be suffering the next day.
It wasn’t necessarily a hardship. Paige appreciated the chance to kick back during the back-to-back shoots. There was something about letting go of everything else and just following a beat with her body that felt good. It helped that she’d taken a ton of hip-hop dance classes with her girlfriends in college. Together, she and Cat were drawing attention, and since it had nothing to do with Gannon or her job, Paige embraced it.
Cat whirled off with a guy in a checkered shirt and cowboy boots waving over his broad shoulder. Paige turned to head to the bar on a quest for water when she found herself making eye contact with warm brown eyes and a cute smile. The man wore a golf shirt and cargo shorts. Preppy without going too far into the country club direction, he had short blondish hair and no wedding ring.
“Hi,” he said, almost shyly.
Paige smiled in response. “Hi.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” He wiggled the empty beer bottle in his hand.
“I’m on a quest for water,” Paige told him. It was as much the truth as a test. There was always the guy at the bar who “jokingly” tried to ply a single woman with alcohol even when she said she was just drinking water.
“I’d be happy to accompany you on your quest,” he offered.
Passed the test. Paige’s smile was even warmer now. “Sure.”
They made their way to the bar, a dark, sticky slab of wood similar to every other bar in every other town. There, Cute Blond Guy flagged down the bartender. He ordered “a water for the lady” and introduced himself as Marcus.
“It’s nice to meet you, Marcus of Hydration. I’m Paige.”
“So, come here often, Paige?” he grinned.
She laughed. “First time ever. I’m only in town for the week. Do you come here often?”
He shook his head and handed over the water the bartender passed to him. “I’m not a regular. I just met a client for a drink, and then I saw you.”
Sweet and honest. She liked that.
Paige felt a change in the atmosphere as if the temperature in the bar suddenly rose a dozen degrees. And there was Gannon. Clean jeans, flip-flops, and a t-shirt that molded to his spectacular chest, he stood in the doorway surveying the lay of the land.
Her heart limped unevenly in her chest.
When the hell had that happened? When did a distant and completely understandable appreciation for his fine form transfer into an actual crush? She had Marcus standing in front of her, an actual nice guy who was interested in her, and she was drooling over a man who had proven himself to be too temperamental to be trusted.
As if he’d locked on to her thoughts, Gannon met her gaze from across the space. The corner of his mouth tugged up.
A loud whoop originated from the dance floor. “Paigey!”
“Does she belong to you?” Marcus asked, pointing in the opposite direction with his bottle. Cat who was now riding the shoulders of the hulking plaid shirt cowboy and waving like she was on a bull.
Paige sighed. “She’s going to knock herself out before she passes out.”
“She looks familiar.” Marcus’s thought trailed off, and Paige could see him trying to tease out where he knew Cat from.
“Do you watch the Reno and Realty network?”
He frowned, still looking at Cat. “Occasionally.” And then the dawning realization crept over his face.
“She’s one of the twins, right?”
“Catalina King,” Paige sighed. This is usually where the guy tried to casually ask for an introduction as if anyone needed a formal invitation to go meet Cat.
“Huh,” Marcus said, turning his attention back to her. “I’d heard the show was coming to town. So do you work on the show? What’s it called?”
Paige found herself pleasantly surprised when the drunken, beautiful blonde blur of Cat King did nothing to sway Marcus’s focus. “Kings of Construction. I’m a field producer for the show.”
“And what does a field producer do?”
“Well, tonight, the field producer is babysitting Cat on her birthday.”
“Ah, one of those never-off-the-clock positions?” Marcus said with wry amusement.
“You sound familiar with the concept,” Paige laughed. She had the cutest guy in all of Portland, Maine, flirting with her, and all she could focus on was the weight of Gannon’s gaze on her.
“I work for an IT company that serves small businesses, so everything is always an emergency.”
“You have a lot of people depending on you,” Paige guessed, toying with the straw in her drink.
Marcus leaned in a little closer. She could smell a hint of his cologne, something subtle and spicy.
“It sounds like you do, too.” The band shifted gears into a slow number. “Do you want to talk about work, or would you like to dance?”
Paige bit her lip. He was so cute. What the hell? “Let’s dance. Just watch out for TV stars falling out of the sky.”
He laughed and took her hand, leading her toward the dance floor. Her eyes met Gannon’s as she skirted a table of middle-aged ladies drinking a pitcher of margaritas. There was heat in those hazel eyes, and she could feel it as he looked her up and down. On the dance floor, other couples parted and closed ranks around them, and Paige felt a sense of relief as if the human barrier could protect her from those steamy glances.
Whatever her relationship had been with Gannon, something had shifted for them both, and she only hoped it wasn’t too late to go back to the way it was. It was safer that way. Easier.
Marcus pulled her gently into his arms, still respectful of her space, and she forced herself to give him her full attention. He made her laugh and asked her about her life. He was smart and sweet and confident. And Paige couldn’t figure for the life of her how he was single. When she voiced just that—damn Gannon and his encouragement to say what was on her mind—Marcus gave heavy sigh.
“Just got out of a long-term relationship.”
“How long?” Paige asked in sympathy.
“We started dating when we were seventeen.”
“Ouch.”
“It’s for the best,” he told her. “You know, you’re the first girl I’ve hit on since the breakup.”
“Really?” Paige was unreasonably delighted.
Marcus nodded. “You should feel very flattered,” he teased.
“Oh, I do,” she promised.
“In fact, if I weren’t heading out of here to catch up with some family that’s only in town tonight, I’d ask if you wanted to go someplace quieter. Maybe have a piece of pie?”
He brushed a curl back from her face, and Paige felt a sweet warmth at his touch. Finally, her body was reacting appropriately. Sure, it wasn’t the internal inferno she felt when Gannon had dug under her t-shirt to find her mic pack, but, still, it was something.
“A girl would have a hard time saying no to pie.”
He grinned. “I’m glad I met you, Paige.”
“I’m glad you did, too.”
She felt a frisson of heat spark across her skin and found Gannon at the bar, beer in hand, staring at her.
The song ended, and she and Marcus broke apart. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “I really do have to go. But if you have any time while you’re in town, call me for pie.”
She took the card. “I really don’t get any downtime during shoots, but if I did, I’d be calling you.”
He smiled and offered his hand. “It was great to meet you.”
She took it, enjoying the gentle squeeze. “It was really nice meeting you, Marcus.”
He tapped the card in her hand. “Don’t forget me.”
She watched him leave, a goofy smile on her face.
Marcus’ card was snatched out of her hand. “He’s not your type,” Gannon said, appearing at her side.