Page 35 of Idle

“For what it’s worth, banking’s lucky to have you.” Her words linger as I saw and square and sand.

When the judges walk through our spaces, my chest expands. I’m proud of what we achieved in these rooms. When they stop in front of the shelving unit, my breath stutters to a stop. The most critical of the trio walks over to it and checks it out from a variety of angles.

“I like this.” She points at me. “Did you do this?”

Swallowing, I reply, “Paige and I came up with the design together, and I executed it.” I shove my hands behind my back to prevent myself from wringing them together.

“Excellent job. This unit exhibits the most creativity I’ve seen since this competition began.”

Out of her eyesight, my fingers dance. “Thank you.”

As soon as the judges walk out, Paige grabs my hand. She mouths, “Good job.” Not trusting my voice, I simply nod in response. After a moment to allow the judge’s praise to sink in, she whispers, “Let’s follow them.”

We trail the judges into the hall bathroom, where their praise is lukewarm. They’re critical of the vanity, saying it’s not contemporary enough. They’re wrong, but I keep my mouth shut.

After they leave, Paige and I collapse onto the sofa. “The shelving unit was our crowning achievement this time,” she notes.

“Your designs were fantastic, even for the bathroom—I don’t care what they said.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Maybe it wasn’t as innovative as the rest of our apartment, but it’s a bathroom. Geez. What did they want? Someone to magically appear and wipe their ass?”

Paige sure has a way with words. Grinning, I reply, “I’d pay money for that.”

She crumples up a piece of paper and throws it at me. “Cave Dweller.”

I deflect the battery and refuse to allow my mind to wander to any inappropriate thoughts of a naked Paige.

When our cell phones blare the arrival of a new text, we both scramble to open them. I read, “From Quinn. Time to check out how your competitors did. Everyone meet at Jesse and Paige’s apartment and we’ll tour the spaces. Then it’s on to the elimination round.”

“That’s new,” she remarks.

“Yeah. Guess since we’re halfway done, they wanted to spice things up.”

For some reason, I’m confident that we’ll make it to the finals, based on absolutely nothing other than my belief in Paige’s design and our product. Paige stands and fluffs the pillows on the sofa, even though this room isn’t the one we’re showing today.

“I have a good feeling, Jesse.”

“Me too. Let’s show them how the bedrooms and bathroom were supposed to be done.” I walk to the front door and open it. Soon, Bo and Mary Ellen plus Robbie and Frank join us. Followed by Quinn and the camera crew.

We take the group on a tour of our spaces, pointing out what we believe to be the highlights of each room. Paige explains our thought process for why we staged the second bedroom as an office, and I describe how I made the shelving unit. They all make noises of being impressed.

When we go to Bo and Mary Ellen’s apartment, I note there’s no hidden drawer in the desk but keep this detail to myself. Their second bedroom is set up as a nursery, done in pastels. Nice, in a generic way, but I’m happier we did an office.

Robbie and Frank, on the other hand, created two bedrooms, both of which appear to be more run-of-the-mill. Even their window coverings seem uninspired. The two men stand tall, proud of their work, so I shake their hands and keep my mouth shut.

This competition is hard. The fact we all completed the three rooms in only six days should be applauded. When we reassemble in the ViewPad’s living room, I allow Paige to select her spot before standing next to her. Of course, Bo is on her other side.

Quinn walks in. “Congratulations, teams. You all did amazing work in the bedrooms and the hall bathroom, and I’ll be sad to see one team depart. Know the network’s thrilled with your work and the cameras love all of you. Bravo.” She claps at us. Everybody joins in, causing me to follow suit, with Bo jumping in last. Why am I not surprised?

The show’s host walks in and gets a touch-up on her makeup. At least I didn’t have to wear any of that shit on my face. I suppose, if we win—when—this fact will have to be revisited.

Miss Antonia begins reading off the teleprompter, explaining about our designs for the audience who will watch the show. When she comes up to the elimination, her eyes skim over each one of us.

“The team that, unfortunately, will be leaving us this week is—” Following a dramatic pause, she says, “Frank and Robbie. It’s time for you to pack your tools.”

All the air rushes out of my body. We did it! We’re going to the finale! With . . . Bo. Ugh. Returning to earth, I give Paige a hug, then offer my heartfelt best wishes to the guys.

Shaking my hand, Frank leans in and whispers, “I want you to beat some cowboy butt, you know?”

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