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CHAPTER9
Jake staredat the floor and blinked. Two days! He’d been down in LA for two days. Leaving the jobsite hadn't been ideal, but it had been unavoidable. Pitching to advertisers during the network upfronts was a big part of his job. He'd had some good interest from the food and bev markets for the vineyard project. Revved and ready to dive back in, he'd come straight to the build from the airport. He hadn’t even made it to the production trailer yet, and now he was staring at a hole in the middle of what should be the kitchen floor.
“What the hell is this?" Jake yelled. The crew building out what looked like plank walls on the floor all kept their eyes on their work.
“Good morning to you too, sunshine.” Frankie rounded the corner with a smirk.
It was perverse the way his heart leapt and his shoulders clenched at the same time in reaction to that smirk. “Why is there a ten-foot hole in the middle of the fucking floor?”
“Actually it’s twelve feet deep to accommodate a poured concrete foundation." She flippantly tossed her ponytail back over her shoulder, and he clenched his hands against the urge to strangle her.
“Why are we pouring a new foundation? What is this going to cost?”
“Sofia wants a hidden wine cellar beneath the cabinets. I altered the plans and got everything approved by the architects.”
“You just neglected to tell me.”
“I’m telling you now,” Frankie pointed out, as if this solved everything.
“Yes, but now there’s a twelve-foot hole in the floor that I can’t exactly argue with.”
“So my timing is perfect.”
Frankie grinned at him and it took all of his acting training not to smile back. He'd bet she got away with murder with that look. He could count on one hand the number of people who were willing to oppose him. She was the only one who’d actually figured out how to get ahead of him, and had taken advantage of his recent absence to handle show meetings. And she was so damned pleased with herself, he almost hated to be the voice of reason. Almost.
“Where is the money for this coming from?” He knew her remaining budget to the penny. She didn't have the funds for this big of a project.
“I did some juggling. Went for cheaper materials in some nonpublic areas. And my cousin Seth is going to custom-build the cabinet surround, so all we had to order was the mechanism.”
“I need to see the quote—”
Frankie held up a hand to cut him off short. “Already on your desk.”
He pushed on, needing to retain control of the conversation. “—and adjust the filming schedule.”
“You’ve got time for that. Today we’re pouring concrete. I figure we won’t need cameras until we start trimming it out.”
Jake shook his head and sighed. “This is why I make the filming schedules. Of course we need to film the concrete. Who is supervising the install?”
“I am.”
“Interesting, since I have you scheduled at the barn today.”
Frankie rolled her eyes and bit back a huff. “Oh, come on. Don’t be upset that we shifted some things. That’s the nature of the construction business. Can’t I quick-film the intro over there and get the guys going and then come back up here? I’ve got a three-hour window before the concrete sets up and the truck is already on the way.”
Jake couldn't give her the inch she wanted, because she already assumed she had the mile. His anger seeped into his voice as he chewed her out. Everyone else in the room had frozen, waiting to see who would emerge victorious.
“This is why you get things approved.” Frustration drove his voice louder over the buzz of saws and nail guns from outside.
“You weren’t here. I had to make a call.” Frankie matched him decibel for decibel.
“It was the wrong call.”
“I jumped through all your damn hoops. Lighten up.” She poked him in the chest with her finger and he growled and snapped.
“When you are carrying the responsibility for the project, then you can tell me to lighten up.”
She got right up in his face at that jab, refusing to back down. Damn it. Why did he admire that? She pissed him off to no end and was digging herself into a hole, literally and figuratively. He needed drama for the show, and she was determined to do things her own way, so why did he keep trying to be the voice of reason?
