“But that’s my signature style.”
“And it works for you,” she said, laughing as she riffled through my shirts. “But we’re going for something more along the lines of, well, hmm.”
“Contractor Barbie?” I suggested dryly.
“Exactly.” She pulled out several work shirts. “Which of these fits best?”
I pointed to my favorite shirt, a thin denim that looked good on me, if I did say so myself. “This one.”
“Okay.” She also reached for a navy blue henley and a pink tank top, then grabbed a pair of slim jeans, one black and one blue, and handed the stack of clothes to me. “Any combination of these colors should work for the camera. And layers are always good, so pick what you like best and meet me outside.”
* * *
• • •
Somehow I made it out to the front porch ten minutes later and joined Chloe, who was sitting at the top of the steps. Bob the camera guy and Gary the sound man were standing on the walkway surrounded by a bunch of equipment. Bob had the camera pointed up at Chloe and Gary held a boom mic that stretched out and above her.
I sat down next to her. “How do I look?”
“Perfect,” she cried, hugging me. “I love the pink tank under the denim shirt. Feminine and professional.”
“Okay. Good.” I was nervous. Why was I nervous? This was my house. My sister. My work. But I was doing it all in front of a camera that looked very intimidating.
“I’m so excited.” Chloe grinned at me and gave me two thumbs up. “We’re going to rock this show.”
“I hope so.” I didn’t often have time enough to sit on the porch, so I took a moment to gaze around, enjoying the view. Our house had been built on a small rise, so from this vantage point I could watch sailboats bobbing in the marina, then turn the other way and gaze over the multitude of Victorian rooflines across town to the rolling green hills beyond.
I ran my hand over the smooth wood planks, pleased that my crew had done such a good job refinishing the porch. No splinters would find their way into our butts, thank goodness. And why that thought occurred to me at that moment, I had no idea. Still, I was grateful.
Bob adjusted the viewfinder on the camera and stared into it. “Looking good, Shannon.”
“Thanks, Bob,” I said, absurdly pleased.
Chloe harrumphed. “What am I, chopped liver?”
“You always look ravishing, princess.”
I elbowed her. “Seriously? Ravishing? Princess?”
“We have to call her that,” Bob said. “It’s in her contract.”
“Oh, stop,” she said, waving her hand at him. “I’m perfectly happy with ‘Your Highness.’”
Bob and Gary both guffawed.
“I love these guys,” I whispered.
Chloe smiled. “Me, too.”
“I love you back,” Gary said with a wink, and I realized he could hear every word we said. Duh, he was the sound man.
“Let’s do a quick rehearsal,” Bob said. “Chloe, you’ll introduce Shannon and you two will chat for about a minute, right?”
“That’s right,” Chloe said with authority, starting to sound more like a director than a star. “Then we’ll both stand up and walk over to the bay window. And as we’re talking you can zoom in to get a close two-shot.”
“Got it.” He stared at the bay window for a moment. “You two should both stand on the far side of the window so I can get in there and show the details.”
“Let’s rehearse the move,” Chloe said. “Are you ready?”
My heart began to beat faster. For heaven’s sake. I was going to take a few steps on my own porch. I took a breath to steady myself and said, “Sure.”
“Okay. We’re talking, we’re talking, I’ll mention the window, maybe a few other style details, and then I’ll say something like, ‘Let’s go look at that window.’ And then we’ll both stand up and walk across the porch.”
“I can do that.” It sounded easy enough.
“Let’s see it.”
We both stood and walked across the porch, ending up at the far side of the window.
“Okay right here, Bob?” she asked. “Can you move the camera in close enough?”
“That’s perfect,” Bob said. “It’s like you’ve done this before.”
Chloe shrugged. “Maybe once or twice.”
Bob turned. “Gary, you okay with the boom?”
“Yeah, but I’m going to mic them both, too, just to cover my bases.”
“Good idea.”
“We’re going to wear microphones?” I asked. We walked back to the steps and sat down again.
“Yeah,” Chloe said. “Little lavalier mics that clip to your collar. They’ll pick up our conversation more clearly and the boom will be available to pick up ambient sounds. You know, birds chirping, the ocean waves in the background, the sounds of our footsteps, stuff like that.”
“Huh. Interesting.” I might be the older sister, but here, she was the expert.
Chloe gave me a shoulder bump. “Yeah. You don’t really notice it, but those kinds of sounds add to the sense of place.”
“You’re pretty smart about this stuff.”
She leaned close and whispered, “Superstar.”
I laughed and smacked her arm.
She flashed me a wicked grin. “That’s never going to get old.”
I was grateful we were all joking around because if I wasn’t laughing, I was afraid I would be fainting. What made me think I could ever do what Chloe did every day? I should’ve been slapping drywall mud on walls or replacing lead pipes in an old bathroom. That was my comfort zone. But this? Showbiz? When Chloe asked me to do the show with her, I should’ve refused politely. Now I was stuck. What if I tripped? What if I flubbed my lines? What if I—
“Counting down,” Bob shouted.
“Yay!” Chloe grabbed my arm. “Here we go.”
Oh God, I thought. I can do this. I took a few more deep breaths. It felt like I was perched at the top of a roller coaster, staring down at a really long dip.
“Nine. Eight. Seven.”
“I can hear you breathing, Shannon.” Gary grinned. “Everything cool?”
Chloe chuckled. “You look like you’re about to hurl. It’s not a good look for television.”
“I’ll be fine.” But I was still breathing heavily, still shaking, still wondering what in the world I was doing here.
“Five. Four.”
Chloe grabbed my hand and whispered, “Just picture Whitney. You want her to see you floundering?”
My eyes widened. There was no way in hell I would ever allow Whitney Reid Gallagher to see me wilting like a chickenhearted scaredy cat. I glared at her. “Well played, sis.”
“Whatever works.”
I gave her a determined thumbs-up. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Four
Hours later I was still basking in the glory of my three brilliant minutes on camera. Despite having two men staring at me and recording my every breath and word, it had only taken a few seconds for me to feel completely natural talking to Chloe about construction and design. I held my own with her and even managed to toss in a few semiclever lines here and there. I could already see the headlines in my mind.
A Makeover Madness Tour de Force.
Shannon Hammer Nails It. Yeah, that was a good one.
“Okay, see you soon,” Chloe said, interrupting my reverie by wrapping up her phone call. “Bree and Blake finally made it to town. I’ve got to go meet them and pick up the shooting schedule. And I can introduce you to everyone.”
I couldn’t help but notice her pressing her hands together. Was she nervous about introducing me to her co-workers? Then I got it. “Let me guess. You’d like me to be the buffer between you and Bree.”
“Yes, pleas
e. I know I sound like a wimp, but if you’re there with me, she’s more likely to behave herself. Plus I won’t have to stay and hang out with them all evening. I’ll tell them we’ve got to go check out the work sites.”
I was bummed that Chloe thought she needed backup. She should’ve been on top of the world with her job and happy to be around her co-workers, but Bree seemed to be poisoning the whole experience. “Of course I’ll be with you. And you don’t sound like a wimp.”
She gave me a sideways glance. “Oh, sure. I’m cowering behind my big sister so the mean lady won’t attack me.”
I smiled. “When you put it like that, you do sound like a wimp, but I’m still going to stick close by you. And besides, you handle her just fine all on your own back in Hollywood, so don’t be so hard on yourself. And to tell you the truth, I really want to meet Blake. And I’d like to see Bree again now that you’ve confirmed that she’s a crank.”
“I really appreciate it,” she said, clearly relieved.
“I’m happy to be your buffer anytime. But don’t expect me to be too friendly with Bree after what she did to you.” I considered taking one of my hammers with me as a defensive weapon, just in case. Probably not a good idea.
Chloe waved off my concerns about Bree. “She probably doesn’t even remember firing me.”
“If that’s true, then she really is psycho.”
My sister gave it some thought. “I’ve always figured she was just too self-involved, but psycho might apply, too.”
We had finished filming our front porch segments an hour ago and Gary and Bob had taken off. They planned to drive around town to film various shots of Lighthouse Cove, then grab some lunch. I’d given them a list of the best places to shoot, including our pretty town square, the old fishing pier, the beach, some of the pastureland outside of town, the old wooden water towers that dotted the landscape, the breathtaking Alisal Cliffs south of the marina, and the myriad of beautiful Victorian homes everywhere in town. And if they still had time, I suggested they might want to drive three miles north and check out the lighthouse.
Once the guys had left, I’d fixed sandwiches for me and Chloe and then we ran to the grocery store to pick up something special for dinner.
Earlier that morning, we had heard from Dad, who gratefully accepted our invitation to come for dinner. He admitted that they’d had their fill of salmon for a while and put in a request for steaks, which always sounded good to me. At the market I found five beautiful rib eye steaks, plus a bunch of asparagus, baking potatoes, a tub of sour cream, and ice cream for dessert. I already had all the makings for a big salad in my backyard vegetable garden.
Now I set our dishes in the sink and turned on the hot water. “I’ll be ready to go in five minutes.”
She was staring at her phone. “Dad just texted me again. They’re two hours away and will definitely make it for dinner.”
“Good,” I said, chuckling, “since we already went shopping for steaks.”
“I just sent him that message,” she said. “He sent back a happy-face emoji and a heart.”
“Aww, sweet.” When the lunch dishes were stacked in the drainer, I dried my hands and hung the towel over the edge of the sink. Then I texted Mac to let him know that dinner was on tonight and when to show up. When I finished texting, I turned to Chloe. “Okay, I’m ready whenever you are.”
“Just have to run upstairs for one minute and then I’ll be good to go.”
Five minutes later we left through the back gate. I was about to climb into my truck when I realized I had no idea where we were going. “Is your boss staying at Jane’s B and B?”
Chloe stopped, too. “That’s where she’s sleeping, but we’re using a couple of suites at the Inn on Main Street as production offices while we’re here.”
“So we’re headed to Main Street?”
“Right,” she said. “The production assistants came to town a few days ago to set up the office equipment and arrange work spaces and stuff.”
“Then we should probably just walk.”
She gave me a crooked grin. “I live in LA, so walking rarely occurs to me. But it’s barely two blocks away, right?”
“Yup. Let’s hoof it.” I looped my arm through hers and started down the driveway to the sidewalk. But then I stopped. “We talked about driving around and checking out the work sites after you finish playing nice with Bree. You still want to do that?”
“Sure.”
“Then we should drive.”
She patted my hand. “I’m glad we had this little chat.”
I laughed as I dragged her back to the truck.
The production office was buzzing with activity when we arrived. I waited near the door as Chloe grabbed Blake Bennett and pulled him toward me. “Blake, this is my sister, Shannon Hammer. Shannon, this is my co-host and partner in crime, Blake Bennett.”
He pulled a toothpick out of his mouth and grinned as we shook hands. “Shannon, I’ve heard great things about you.”
“Hi, Blake. Thanks.” I gave Chloe a quick smile. “That’s nice to hear.”
Blake Bennett was very good-looking in a rugged-cowboy kind of way. I supposed it was a good look for a manly guy who worked on a show where he was hauling tools around and swinging sledgehammers for fun.
But I was frankly shocked to see how much older he looked in person. Blake was probably somewhere in his late forties. I wondered how much makeup he would have to wear to look so much younger. A lot, I guessed.
I had to admit that personality-wise, he and Chloe made a good pair—even if Chloe did most of the heavy lifting on the show.
Blake glanced from me to Chloe and back. “You guys don’t look much alike.”
That was something we’d heard our entire lives. The truth was that Chloe had been born with straight, light strawberry-blond hair and when she was old enough, she started coloring it to make herself a “real” blonde. The look suited her.
And my big wavy red hair suited me, too.
“I look more like my dad, and Chloe takes after our mom,” I explained briefly. It wasn’t exactly true, but that kind of stuff was nobody’s business, was it?
He smiled and I noticed he had fabulous white teeth. “Well, you’re both beautiful,” he said. “And talented. I meant it when I said that Chloe’s said good things about you.”
“Has she?” I glanced again at my sister. It was great to know that even though we didn’t spend much time together anymore, Chloe still thought of me as much as I did about her.
“Of course.” Chloe smiled. “I wanted to feature you on this set of shows, so I talked you up. Told them how you run the family company and how generally awesome you are.”
“Yup,” Blake said. “We’re all looking forward to working with you.”
“Thanks, Blake. I’m really excited about it.”
“We are, too.” He gave a little salute.
“Here’s your coffee, Blake,” a girl said from behind me.
I turned and realized she was a woman, not a girl. But she was so petite and her voice was so high that I’d mistaken her for someone much younger. Probably not the first time that had happened.
“Thanks, kid,” Blake said, taking the mug from her.
“Hey, Chelsea,” Chloe said. “This is my sister, Shannon.” She gave me a glance. “Shannon, Chelsea is Blake’s assistant.”
“Chelsea,” I said, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”
Chelsea assessed me for so long that I wondered if she thought I might be vying for her job. She had wide blue eyes and amazingly pouty lips, and I wondered for a moment if she practiced that fish-face look in the mirror. But then she smiled briefly and I felt guilty for having that snotty thought. “Hi, Shannon.” She turned back to Blake. “I’m going to the store to buy your sodas and I’ll put them in your trailer. Be sure to call me if you need anything els
e.”
Blake didn’t look at her, just waved. “Got it.”
She frowned as she walked out of the office. It was clear that Chelsea had a crush on Blake. Did he know? He seemed oblivious of the woman.
Chloe took me around the room to introduce me to everyone else in the office. I didn’t see Bree anywhere, but I met the accounting clerk, a couple of their equipment drivers, and the two production assistants, Carolee and Lorna. Carolee handed each of us a copy of the shooting schedule.
We both took a moment to read through it. “So we start shooting tomorrow morning at the Bloom house.”
“I see that.”
“Did you also notice our call time?”
“Uh, yeah. Ouch.”
“Add two hours to that for hair and makeup and setup and rehearsal.”
“Two hours?” I stared at the rundown. Yes, I was pleasantly surprised that they’d chosen the Bloom house, but if they planned to shoot the first scene at seven o’clock in the morning, it meant that we would have to be on the set by . . . five o’clock?
“Oh dear God.” I was used to getting to a construction site early, but this was a lot earlier than that. If that was going to be our schedule every day, it would take some getting used to. But at least the Bloom family wasn’t residing in the house, so we wouldn’t have to dislodge anyone at the crack of dawn.
I decided to stick with the bright side. “I’m glad Bree chose the Bloom house. That’s one of the ones I showed her. Margaret Bloom is a sweetheart and you’ll love this house, Chloe. It’s completely deserted and basically falling apart, but it’s totally worth saving. It’ll be gorgeous when you’re finished with it.”
“Can’t wait to see it.” She studied the rundown. “But, Shannon, they have another house listed here, too. The Wagner house. Do you know the family?”
I skimmed farther down the rundown to find the address of the second residence. It took me a minute to place the house in town. “If it’s the house I’m thinking of, it’s been bought and sold a bunch of times and the different owners have done some weird add-ons. I don’t know the people living there now.”
“I think their name is Wagner,” Chloe said somberly.
A Wrench in the Works Page 6