“Can you at least go up a few more rungs so we can get you in frame painting from the trim to the baseboard?” Jack asked as if it didn’t feel like scaling Everest. “One seamless roll of the brush. Then we’ll do the next color option.”
She looked down and the room began to spin. The ladder shifted and it took everything she had not to cry.
“Is there a problem?” Diana asked.
You can do this, Poppy told herself.You are strong andpowerful and likeable. And this is a chance to show the crew that you know what you’re doing.
“Nope. No problem at all. I was just thinking it might be hard for viewers to see the difference with it being a single stripe of color.”
“It’s original,” Jack said.
Original didn’t mean it was better. In fact, sometimes things were a way for a reason, and paint samples were done in squares for a reason. But she’d pick her battles, and right now her battle was getting off this ladder.
“This shot might be better if it was done with me standing on the ground and using the roller brush from the top down,” Poppy insisted.
A pregnant silence fell over the crowd. Poppy looked over and everyone was staring at Diana. Diana was staring at Poppy. This was where Diana would rip her a new one.
Instead she shocked the shit out of Poppy and said, “The girl has a point.”
“I agree,” Decker said from the threshold of the dining room. He nearly dwarfed the oversized entry. He was dressed in sawdust-covered cargo shorts with a million-and-one pockets that held a million-and-one secrets, and a soft gray shirt that clung to his body with the day’s heat.
In unison, everyone gave an enthusiastic, “Hey, Deck!” Even Diana.
Poppy would have rolled her eyes if she wasn’t afraid it would cause her to lose her balance and topple over.
“I agree with Poppy. Color choices lower on the wall in squares make it easier for viewers to see the difference. Also, they feel like they’re a part of the decision making. And since we’re in decision-making mode, can we add a pale pink to the mix?”
Poppy looked over at the swatches. “Spring Blush?” she asked. “Is this a joke?”
“No.”
“It will make the room too feminine.”
“That’s called gender essentialism. Color doesn’t have a gender.”
Poppy gripped the ladder harder. “But it makes a statement.”
“It’s not about a statement, it’s about how it makes you feel,” Decker said.
“And right now I feel nauseous. Can I get down before you start lecturing me on what I already know?”
“As long as you agree to add Spring Blush to the paint options and let the audience choose.”
Once her feet were on solid ground, she was able to breathe again. That’s when she noticed the room staring at her, waiting for her to snap at Decker.
She plastered on a fake smile. “You’re right. It’s all about what resonates with the audience.”
He stalked toward her with his eyes locked on hers. When those intense cobalts zeroed in, never veering away, her heart began this annoying pattering she couldn’t seem to control. Not only was she touched that he remembered her fear of heights, she was still thinking about what he’d told her last night. How upset he’d been over the video and how vulnerable he’d been with her.
He didn’t stop walking until he was in her personal space bubble. He put his hand over his neck mic.
“You okay?” he asked so quietly she barely heard it.
She nodded, then covered her mic. “You?”
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
