Page 18 of Written with Love

Chapter Six

Within two weeks of Palmer and his men beginning work outside, he had running water and decent water pressure everywhere and electricity in the barn. Some of the old pipes in the building groaned when he showered, but he was assured nothing like the pipe bursting in his kitchen would happen again. Palmer had looked over each exposed connection personally.

Every day that the men worked, Juliette was there to film with him. He spent some time teaching her all he could about his cameras and equipment. By the end of the first week, she was fully capable of finding the best angle and took over most of the filming and editing while he got to work demo-ing the bathrooms and all that tile.

Of course, she set up a few cameras on his project. Every evening, she would splice the videos together and post them on his new social media pages, which they were calling Saving the Light.

She was good, damn good, not only at editing the videos together but at making them tell a story. Sure, they were just construction videos, but Juliette had somehow turned them into something that dragged you in and kept you glued to the screen.

There were instructional videos that she got Palmer or Parker to make about the more technical sides of things and a ton of time-lapse videos showing the progress.

He was surprised at how quickly the profiles had gotten to almost a million followers.

“I told you, people like me eat this shit up.” She had laughed when they hit more than a million views on the video of him destroying the pink tiled bathroom. “Plus, you’re eye candy.” She nudged him with her elbow. “I bet if you took your shirt off next time, we’d hit two million views.”

He chuckled. “Trust me, they’re not watching these because of me. I think they just enjoyed seeing that pink tile be destroyed.”

She shrugged. “Maybe, but the comments say differently.” She leaned closer and showed him some of the comments.

To be honest, he didn’t really read any of the text since the sweet scent of her perfume filled his senses and made him want to lean in closer to her.

“Once we’re a little further along in the process, we can splice some scenes together to show progress in each space,” she continued.

“You’re really great at this. All of this. The social media aspects as well as filming and edits.”

“You’re pretty good at it too, I hear.”

He shook his head. “I’m a storyteller. I let the directors do the rest.”

“Well, you’re pretty good at the telling then.” She smiled.

“What about rolling up your sleeves tomorrow and helping me out in the blue bathroom?” he suggested.

Her eyes lit up. “You think I could? I mean, I know I can physically. I helped my parents remodel their kitchen a few years back and have spent too much time painting walls.” She chuckled.

“Oh?” He smiled, enjoying the way her face glowed with humor.

“My mother can never settle on a color. I swear she repaints her rooms once a year. If you were to cut a chunk out of the walls in their place, it would probably look like one of those gobstoppers you break in half.”

He chuckled. “Okay, so when we start painting inside, I’ll put you in charge.”

She glanced over at him, her smile slipping slightly. “I’d really enjoy that. Just don’t tell me you’re going to paint the walls in here sea-foam green.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Why?”

“It’s impossible to work with. No matter what I painted over it, you could always see streaks. And I walked around for a week looking like I had foam green freckles. I swear that color was impossible to clean off my skin.”

He was smiling. “No, I haven’t picked colors for the walls yet. Since you’re such an expert, maybe you can help me decide.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” She jumped up from the table and then motioned for him to follow. “Come on, we have to look at each room.” And then, to his surprise, she rummaged in her purse for a moment and pulled out a paint color wheel.

“Do you carry that in there all the time?” he asked, following her over to stand in the middle of the room.

She glanced at the color wheel and chuckled. “Not really, but my mother wanted me to stop off and get a can of Osprey White for her powder room. She plans on painting it next week.”

“Okay.”

She held up the wheel and fanned some colors out.