Page 23 of Written with Love

“I can be strong,” she said, to assure herself more than her friend.

“Oh, I know it.” Sophia smiled. “Now, let’s change the subject to something good. Like, my wedding plans.”

Juliette laughed and relaxed into the conversation as they planned her best friend’s wedding.

Now that she was helping Max out every day, her work schedule at the restaurant had slowed way down. She spent most of the day at his place filming and most of the evening editing and uploading the videos to social media platforms.

When she finally drove up to Max’s, she was in a slightly better mood than earlier. Planning her best friend’s wedding had cleansed her soul.

But then she saw the rows of media vans camped just outside his gate. As she drove by, cameras flashed and people screamed for her to stop and answer questions. She didn’t.

When she parked next to Palmer’s truck, Max was there waiting for her.

“I see you met the press,” he grumbled. “Thankfully, they’re too far away to get a clear look.”

“Yeah.” She shut her car door. “I guess after the article yesterday, they made the trip from Portland to spy on the bunch of nobodies you’re hanging with.”

He frowned and then touched her elbow to stop her from walking away.

“Not a single word of that article was true.” His eyes scanned hers.

“You weren’t engaged to Gabriella?”

He shifted slightly. “I never proposed to her.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, but just then Parker walked over with a bunch of questions he needed Max’s attention on.

Now that the weather was warmer, the men had been able to finish up the exterior work. They had been working inside for the past few days, mostly on electric or plumbing upgrades. They were replacing all the light fixtures and checking every outlet’s wiring.

Today, if all went well, they were going to start work in the kitchen. Boxes of cabinets had arrived a few days before. First, however, she was told they had to patch some spots on the walls—like the hole she’d made—build a new wall, and tear one out.

She was eager to watch and film the process and, since Max was busy, she headed inside to gather the equipment and set up.

When she stepped into the house, the scent of sawdust and fresh lumber was already thick in the air, and she sneezed. The kitchen was a disaster zone—exactly what she had expected. Boxes of new cabinets lined the far wall, stacks of drywall leaned precariously near the back door, and the plans for the room were taped up on a bare wall.

As she walked over, her gaze swept across the changes. The wall separating the living room was set to be torn down, while a new one would go up at the back of the kitchen. An exterior door in that space which led out to the back of the house and was close to the stairs that descended to the beach. This new room would function as a mudroom, providing a place to store boots and wet clothes after coming in from the shore. That room would also connect to the walk-in pantry, which housed the door leading down to the cellar—soon to be Max’s new wine cellar.

This was going to be fun.

The camera, tripod, and light were right where she’d left them in the dining room, and she arranged them for the best angles, well out of the way of the work.

Juliette had just set up the first shot when Max strolled in, but he wasn’t alone. Palmer and his crew followed, their presence instantly filling the space with an air of efficiency and controlled chaos.

Palmer glanced around and nodded towards her after spotting her cameras. “I’ll let you know if you need to move anything,” he told her. “Everyone else, let’s get to work. Parker’s team will start on tearing out that wall. My crew will focus on prepping the walls for the new cabinets.”

Juliette quickly adjusted the camera to capture the action as the men got to work. Within minutes, the sounds of drills, hammers, and the occasional curse word filled the space. Parker’s crew used sledgehammers to knock down the old dividing wall, and dust turned the room smokey.

Palmer’s guys measured and marked where the new walls would go and started hauling in lumber that had been cut to size outside. She could hear the saw working every so often between the crashes of the sledgehammers.

Max eagerly helped when asked. Currently he was using a crowbar to loosen part of the window frame while trying not to damage the glass.

She filmed as Max pried the piece free, grinning as he wiped the sweat from his brow. “Not bad for a screenwriter, huh?” he called over to her.

Juliette smirked. “I’ll admit, you look pretty convincing. But let’s be honest, we both know Palmer’s crew is doing most of the real work.”

Palmer let out a chuckle as he walked by. “That’s what we get paid for. We’ll make sure this place doesn’t come crashing down around him.”

Max rolled his eyes good-naturedly and went back to pulling nails from the frame. Juliette found it endearing—the way he threw himself into something so outside his usual world of scripts and glamour.