Page 155 of The Homewreckers
Hattie pointed to the island, which was styled with a primitive wooden dough bowl filled with Meyer lemons from a tree she’d discovered in the backyard, and a cut-glass pitcher of lemonade. “My favorite is this work island. For years, I’d been hoarding this antique display cabinet that came out of an old haberdashery on Broughton Street, in downtown Savannah. We put a new marble top on it, and then, continuing the vintage Savannah theme, we hung these old brass ship’s lanterns as pendants. You know, Trae, Carolyn Meyers, our real estate agent, says this kitchen is the sizzle that’s going to sell this steak.”
Carolyn walked into the kitchen on cue, holding a leather folder. “I can’t wait to get this listing online, you two. The house is going to show beautifully, and I truly believe we’ll have no problem getting our list price. In fact, I predict a bidding war.”
Trae held the back door open, and the threesome walked out onto the back porch.
Hattie pointed at the view through the trees. The new sod was a bright green, and in the distance, sunlight sparkled on the water and pelicans glided by in formation.
“That’s the real star, right there,” she said. “This view of the Back River and Little Tybee. That’s what beach-house living is about. Can’t you just picture yourself kayaking out there on a spring day? Or dropping a fishing line or a crab trap off the end of the dock?”
“What about just hanging out in that dock house, sipping an adult beverage or grilling the day’s catch? There’s even a dining area out there,” Trae said. “And this huge property could accommodate a swimming pool and a guesthouse if the buyer wanted to really gild the lily.”
Hattie spotted Mo standing behind the camera operator. He nodded and gave her a thumbs-up.
Hattie linked her arm through Trae’s. “In the meantime though, Trae, our work here is done. This old beach house has been thoroughly and successfully homewrecked. Thanks for watching!”
“Bye, everybody!” Trae waved.
“Cut!” Mo stepped out from behind the camera. “Wrap party starts in thirty minutes!”
A food truck from Papa’s Barbecue had been parked at the rear of the house for theHomewreckerswrap party. Members of the production crew and the construction crew mingled around inside and on the porches, eating chopped pork, coleslaw, potato salad, Brunswick stew, and banana pudding. There were coolers full of iced-down local craft beers, and drink dispensers filled with sweet iced tea.
Rebecca sat on a folding chair on the front porch, dabbing at her sweaty forehead with a paper napkin and looking down, with distaste, at the plate of barbecue she’d just been handed.
“Sooo,” she said, looking over at Hattie and Cass and Mo and Trae. “That went well, don’t you think?”
“Well?” Mo took a swig from his beer bottle. “That’s kind of faint praise, isn’t it?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Rebecca said. “I’m sure you’ll do wonders with it in postproduction, but I just thought the big reveal was… I don’t know. Kind of quiet?”
“We took a falling-down piece of crap and in less than six weeks transformed it into a showplace,” Mo said, his voice rising as his annoyance grew. “The before and after shots are going to be amazing. We’ve got a ton of drama in this season, Hattie buying the house with a sealed bid, then the discovery of that billfold…”
“We literally uncovered a skeletonandsolved an old cold-case murder, Becc,” Trae added.
“Well, yeah, I guess that does up the suspense,” Rebecca admitted.
“And don’t forget our makeup and breakup,” Trae said, pointing at Hattie. “Think of all the publicity that generated for the show. I can’t leave my hotel room in downtown Savannah without someone stopping me to ask when Hattie and I are getting engaged.”
“That would be never,” Hattie said quickly.
Cass pointed her beer bottle at Rebecca. “Y’all, the vibe I’m getting here is that she’s trying to tell us something. And it’s not good. Right, Rebecca?”
Rebecca dipped a plastic spoon into the cup of banana pudding, then scraped most of it off before tasting.
She dropped the spoon and grimaced. “Why is everything so sweet down here? I’m amazed everyone doesn’t go into diabetic shock from just looking at this food.”
“Rebecca?” Mo pressed. “Why are you here? Has Tony seen any of the raw footage I’ve been sending you?”
“I was hoping we could discuss this someplace more private,” Rebecca said, looking around at the faces focused on hers.
“Obviously, Cass is right. You’ve got bad news. So just tell me. Us. All of us have a stake in this show. What’s the deal?”
“Tony has seen a bit of the early footage. He’s incredibly busy right now. What I can tell you is that he wasn’t bowled over. I told him, ‘Tony, just wait. Mo’s team has done an incredible job with thishouse,’ but he isn’t buying in. The thing is, we’re just not sure this concept is going to win us the demographic we’re looking for.”
“Which means what?” Mo demanded.
“Okay, we’re definitely going to honor our commitment for six episodes, so no worries there.”
Mo’s expression relaxed a little.
