“Not yet,” I said. “But I have a feeling he’s going to be huge someday. He’s . . . I don’t know how to describe it. He’s magnetic. Hypnotic. I kind of couldn’t take my eyes off him.”
“Yeah, I get that,” she admitted wryly. “And I really like working with him, mostly because he actually works.”
“What do you mean?”
She turned and scanned the room to make sure we weren’t being overheard. “Okay, have you ever watched the show and noticed how Blake can describe exactly what we’re going to do in a room and then in the very next scene, he’s gone and someone else is doing the work he just described? Usually me or Diego.”
I stared at her. “I’ve never noticed that. Sorry. I mean, I watch the show, but . . . are you serious?”
“That’s okay,” she said quickly. “You’re not supposed to notice. But the fact is, Bree won’t let Blake do any real carpentry or construction. What he does is point and describe and lead the camera around, giving a little history of the house and architecture and stuff like that. He searches out old fixtures and he talks about the dangers of lead pipes, anything that involves speaking to the camera. And basically, he looks good doing it.”
“But you can’t be serious about him not working. I saw him start a demolition project just the other night. He had a sledgehammer and . . .” I tried to recall the segment I was watching. “Okay I can’t actually remember if he swung the hammer and broke through the wall. Wow. That’s weird.”
“You didn’t miss it, because he didn’t do the actual demo,” Chloe said with confidence. “He talks about it. He looks at the camera and grins and tells people exactly what he’s going to do, and he kind of goes through the motions, picking up the hammer or the power drill or whatever. And then we always cut away.”
Hollywood was starting to sound even more bizarre than I’d believed. “But why? He seems perfectly capable of breaking down a wall or hanging drywall or whatever it is you’re doing.”
“Seems being the operative word. He’s a klutz. The last time he used a ball peen hammer he came close to shattering his knee. Walked with a limp for weeks.”
“Oh, come on.”
“And he almost poked his eye out with a screwdriver.” Laughing a little to herself, Chloe went on. “I’m not making this up. I’ve seen it for myself. Seriously, the man is a menace around tools.”
I felt like someone had just told me the Easter Bunny wasn’t real. “But that’s crazy. I can’t believe it.”
Chloe took another sip of beer. She reached for the cocktail napkin and absently began to shred it. “When he was younger, Blake was on top of everything. And yeah, he did create the show himself, and when he met and fell in love with Bree, he made her the executive producer. But over the years, he’s lost his touch.” She shrugged as if she’d gone over this with herself time and time again. “I don’t know, maybe he’s been doing it too long? Maybe he doesn’t really care? Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a great businessman, but just not much of a tool man. Not anymore. Except he looks the part of a brawny contractor type, so people believe what they want to believe.”
I shook my head, feeling a little dazed. “I’m blown away.”
“That was my reaction, too.” She nodded sagely. “And to tell you the truth, I didn’t even see it for the first few months I was working with him. The director and Bree would go over the series of shots with me and Blake, and they would act like it was all perfectly normal. Blake’s job was to explain what was about to happen and then the crew and I would step in and actually do the work.”
“Weird.”
“And it’s gotten even worse since he hired Chelsea. If Bree suggests that he do the smallest thing that isn’t scripted, Chelsea whisks him away before Bree can finish the sentence. Poor Chelsea. She’s in love with the wrong man. No matter how toxic we all think Bree is, Blake has blinders on. He really loves her.”
“I don’t get it.” I sat silent for a long moment, biting off bits of a pretzel. “So tell me about this new show.”
She took a breath, had a sip of beer, and set the glass down again. “It’s major, Shannon. They’ve got these huge sponsors backing the show and it’s going to premier right after the Super Bowl next year.”
“Holy moly. That’s huge.”
“I know! The head of the network is flying up here sometime next week to meet with me and Diego.” She slapped one hand to her belly. “God, I just realized I’m nervous.”
“Who wouldn’t be? But it sounds like an incredible opportunity. And nobody deserves it more than you.”
“Aw, thanks. I hope it works out because I really hate the idea of leaving a show I love to start something completely new.”
I munched on yet another pretzel for another moment. “So why, exactly, were you yelling at Bree?”
Her shoulders drooped. “You couldn’t hear what she was saying in the beginning, but it was pretty bad. She just kept ranting, saying awful things about Blake. I don’t like that she’s going along with what the network wants and not protecting Blake. So I defended him. For all the good it did. The thing is, maybe he doesn’t do the construction work anymore, but he’s really good at the chatter. He’s funny and charming and like I said, the audience loves him. And that’s as important to me as having someone who can swing a hammer, you know?”
I shook my head at the thought. That might’ve worked on her show, but it didn’t apply to real life. On a real construction site, if someone couldn’t do the work, I would have to fire them, plain and simple. It didn’t matter if they were charming and funny. But then, Makeover Madness wasn’t real life; it was showbiz. And despite the fact that my sister and I both worked as building contractors, I was beginning to see how very different Chloe’s job was from mine.
“By the way,” I said, “just for the record, you’re funny and charming on the show, too. But I understand what you’re saying. Blake is your friend and he was responsible for getting you the job. You feel you owe him.”
“I do,” Chloe said. “I owe him a lot more than I owe Bree.”
“But she seems to hold the power.”
“Yeah. It made me so sad to hear her say all that stuff about her own husband. And my friend.”
“You didn’t sound sad. You sounded angry as heck.”
“I was. Still am.” She rolled all the little bits of napkin into a ball. “So now I’m torn. I can’t turn down the network job, but I feel horrible about Blake.”
“But won’t he keep working on Makeover Madness?”
She stared at me, looking floored. “Dang, that’s a good question. I didn’t even ask. Bree bulldozed right past all of my protests and told me to shut up and be ready to meet the network honchos next week.”
“So no room for discussion with that one.” I thought about it for a minute. “But she did say that the network wants you. Does that necessarily mean they’ll hire her to produce the show?”
Chloe pondered that. “Honestly? I have no idea. I was so discombobulated, I didn’t even ask the right questions. I’m not sure she would’ve answered me, though. She likes to withhold information sometimes. It’s a power play. Anyway, for this network show, she’s acting like it’s a done deal. No more discussion.”
“Maybe you could ask Suzanne about it.”
“Good idea. I’ll do that.” She finished her beer and reached for her tote bag. “Are you ready to go?”
“No. Wait.” I waved her back into her seat. “Sit. I haven’t mentioned a very important detail.”
She sat back in her chair. “What is it?”
“As I left the suite, I happened to notice someone standing in the hall outside the bedroom door, listening to your loud conversation with Bree.”
She made a face. “Who was it?”
“It was Richie Rich.”
“What?” she shrieked.
“
Shh!” I glanced around to make sure the whole room wasn’t watching us. But nobody was paying us any attention, a good thing.
“What in the world was he doing there?” she wondered. “What a creepy little snoop.”
“He totally is. He checked his watch at one point, like maybe he was late for something. I confess I was so angry after listening to your stupid boss yelling at you that when I saw Richie, I shouted at him.”
“You did?” Her eyes lit up. “What did he do?”
“He didn’t even look at me. He knew he was caught, though. He threw his hoodie over his head and scurried off in the opposite direction.”
“Coward. He’s so icky.” She pondered it for a moment. “Do you think he was following us?”
“I wouldn’t have thought so, but after the story you told us last night, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
“Me, either.” She grabbed one last pretzel and finished it off.
“Maybe he knows Bree,” I said. “She was visiting here for a few days last month.”
“Oh, yeah. They might’ve met during that visit.”
“He’s a real estate agent now, so it makes sense.” I thought about it for a moment. “Remember how I told you she wanted to ‘spread the joy?’ She was planning to meet with a number of real estate agents while she was here.”
“She does that. When we’re about to go on location, she’ll line up a few meetings with local agents to look at a whole variety of houses. So one of those agents could’ve been Richie.”
“Seems logical.”
“And she’s such a flirt,” Chloe added, her lip curling in distaste. “Anything could’ve happened between them. Can you picture it?”
“Those two together?” I squeezed my eyes shut and waved her words away. “I don’t want that image in my head.”
“I don’t blame you. I’d like to think that Bree is more discriminating than that. Richie is way too slimy for her taste.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Me, too.” She grabbed her bag and stood. “Let’s get out of here before one or both of them walk in and ruin the rest of our day.”
Chapter Five
On the drive over to the Bloom house, I remembered to call Wade to find out how our newest crew member was getting along with the rest of the guys.
“It’s a regular love fest out here,” Wade said. “No worries.”
I frowned. “Is it really going well or are you just trying to get me to stop worrying?”
“Is it working?”
I had to think about it for a few seconds. “I guess so.”
“Good.” He chuckled. “Seriously, it’s going great. In fact, we’re all going to the pub tonight and Niall’s buying the first round. Care to join us?”
“I would love to, but my dad and uncle are coming over for dinner tonight.”
“Ah. They’re back from their fishing trip?”
“Yes, and he announced that they’re officially sick of salmon so we’re grilling steaks.”
“Steaks, huh? Well, have fun. I’ll keep you posted on how it goes at the pub.”
“Thanks, Wade. Text me if anything wild happens.”
“You bet. Talk to you later.”
I disconnected the call and turned right on Shorebird Street.
“So who’s Niall?” Chloe asked. “And why are you so anxious to make sure everyone gets along?”
“Niall is my friend Emily’s brother. He just moved here from Scotland. He plays rugby and he used to be a history professor and Emily informs me that he’s quite a good drinker.” I glanced at Chloe and grinned. “He’s also an artist with brick and stone, so I was excited when she told me he was moving here and looking for a job. I hired him to build a retaining wall at one of my job sites and I just wanted to make sure everyone was getting along. I mean, first of all, he’s Emily’s brother. And second, it’s good to get along with the people you work with.”
“I agree.”
I shrugged. “I’ve got a great crew and it always makes me nervous to add someone new to the mix. You know, upset the balance or whatever.”
“So true. He sounds interesting.”
“Doesn’t he?” I grinned at her again. “I haven’t officially met him, but Wade said that he’s been playing well with the others, so they’re all going out to the pub tonight.”
“And Wade’s going to keep you posted?”
“Knowing Wade, he’ll text me a minute-to-minute breakdown.”
She smiled. “It’s nice that you and the guys on your crew are so close.”
“We’re all friends. You know a lot of them, since most of them go all the way back to grammar school with me. I’ve got a couple of women on the crew now, too. It’s fun having them around.”
“I love working with other women. It’s such a rare treat.”
“I agree.” I turned left on Bayberry Lane and was shocked to see a long row of large trailers and huge semi trucks parked on the opposite side of the street from the Bloom house.
I wouldn’t normally leave my pickup in a client’s driveway, but there was no room on the street so I pulled in and parked. “Are all of those trucks here for the show?”
“Yes. Most of the crew got here yesterday so they’re probably still setting things up.”
We got out of the truck and I scanned the lineup across the street. “What do you use them for? Are they all dressing rooms?”
Chloe pointed. “Those first three are dressing rooms and the one behind that is our mobile production office. Then comes the wardrobe, hair, and makeup truck. And that big honkin’ semi down there is filled with film and lighting and sound equipment. And that last one on the end, the one that looks like a horse trailer? Those are actually the portable bathrooms. The truck goes by many other names, but we’ll keep it clean for now.”
“Are there a bunch of trucks over at the Wagners’ house, too?”
She shrugged. “We’ll have to go over there and find out.”
I couldn’t imagine they would go to the trouble of parking a bunch of trailers and trucks at both houses, so I hoped this meant that the Bloom house was the one chosen for the makeover. But I kept quiet for now. Gazing up and down the street, I shook my head. “The neighbors must love this.”
“Believe it or not, they’re usually pretty cool about it,” she said. “I mean, it’s a little hectic and congested for a few days, but the production company sends out letters to everyone on all the adjacent streets giving them the dates we’re filming and warning them about the traffic. We also offer to let them come and watch the filming and meet the ‘stars.’ And they’re welcome to visit the catering tables for coffee and donuts. Most people are excited about it and don’t get too riled. And we’re usually only here for a few days. A week at the most.”
“You finish a whole house in a week?” That was way impressive, even for Hollywood.
She laughed. “No. It takes a few months. But we shoot the main intros and the big demolition work in those first few days and then we’ve got a crew that stays on to finish the rooms and paint the exterior. After that we bring in a landscaping company to make the whole thing look pretty. And then our film crew and Blake and I come back for a day or two to take the beauty shots for the results show.”
“It’s showbiz magic.”
She grinned. “You got it.”
“So,” I said, turning and spreading my arms wide. “Here’s the Bloom house. Do you love it?”
It was after two o’clock and the surrounding trees were beginning to cast shadows against the walls, lending the home a spooky quality that gave me shivers.
From the street the front lawn stretched for almost fifty yards, leading to a wide set of stairs running up to a veranda that covered the front of the house and curved around one entire side.
“It’s fantastic,” she sa
id, gazing up at the three-story Victorian. “You’re right. This is going to be magnificent when we finish with it.”
“I’m glad you see what I see.” I frowned as my doubts took over. “But it’s so run-down, I worry that Bree will think it’s too much work for you guys.”
“No, it’s perfect,” Chloe said, approaching the veranda. “Look at how that beam above the veranda is sagging.”
“I know. Bree might not want you to do this much work.”
“But that’s the whole premise of the show. We can turn this into a palace.” She looked at me and winked. “Hollywood or not, I’m still our dad’s daughter. We can work wonders on this old beauty.”
“I know we can. I just hope Bree makes the right choice.”
We walked around the outside of the house. Chloe stopped to test the strength of one of the railing balusters that lined the raised porch and gasped when it came off in her hand. She gave a rueful laugh. “Yeah, definitely needs work.”
“Every aspect of the place is just sad.”
“But that’s a good thing. Makeover Madness, baby.”
I smiled. “Okay, I’ll hold on to that thought.” I took the baluster from her and scrutinized it. “These balusters are classically Victorian. We should try to save as many as we can. They can be stripped and filled, and then sanded and repainted, but it’ll take a while.”
“Yeah. And those posts will have to be replaced.”
“Along with the wood plank flooring.”
“Definitely.” We came back around to the front and Chloe decided to test the steps leading up to the porch. She made it all the way up without falling through a hole, but I thought she just got lucky. “We’ll have to check these steps more closely when we have time.”
“At the very least they’ll need sanding and painting.”
After spending another fifteen minutes examining the clapboard wood siding—which would have to be replaced—and the windowsills and shutters at the front of the house—which needed new hardware and paint—Chloe turned to me. “I guess I’ve seen enough for now. Should we go check out the competition?”
A Wrench in the Works Page 8