First Comes Love - Ashlee Price Page 0,4

hottest applicant yet, when I’m already having trouble concentrating? Seriously?

And I thought today couldn’t get more frustrating.

“Meaning,” I cut in, forcing unwanted images of Harley, bent over my knees right here and now out of my head, “the rainforest can be dangerous, even to the experienced. There’s disease, rabid animals, shitty weather, the works.”

Her chin lifts. “I can handle it.”

Then, all innocence as she looks to me, “After all, you’re going, aren’t you?”

“Where did you hear that?” I ask.

A half-shrug. “One of the women you interviewed earlier mentioned it to us while walking out.”

My brothers scowl, while I have difficulty holding my smile back. They probably planned to try to talk me out of the decision later, but me stepping in as producer is looking like more and more of a certainty.

This Harley isn’t just hot, she’s on the ball. Way too young for me, but I’ll be too busy in the producer’s chair to be distracted anyway. About fucking time I get to do something I like for a change, too.

“Alright, you’re in,” I say.

My brothers heave a relieved sigh—clearly, I’m not the only one who’s fed up with all the interviews.

“Great!” she says.

We shake hands, her fingers looking even smaller entwined with mine, although her firm handshake is no pushover. Electricity zaps through my fingers. I push it down.

Not the time.

“We’re happy to have you as part of Storm Media,” I recite the spiel Dad developed who-knows how many years back. Repeating it now feels stupid and trite, especially considering what I suspect about Dad, but it’s all I’ve got, so I go with it: “For us, being punctual, true to our word and a real team are the most important things. But for us, team means something a bit different. We like to work as equals—at least in the suggestion and idea sense. So, if there’s anything you think we could do differently or better, just tell us.”

“Really?” Harley tilts her head at me.

“Really,” I say, looking to the door.

I’m too tired and horny for this. This is not the normal response the spiel gets.

She bites her lip. “Well, if being punctual is the most important thing for you, then you should hold to it. My interview time was…” she glances at her phone, “scheduled an hour ago. I get it that you guys are in a time crunch, but then maybe you should change your tenets?”

What. The actual fuck.

My brothers crack up.

“Oh, this one’s got fire, big brother,” Nolan says, sauntering out.

Fire that I’d like to test out myself, somewhere private.

I swallow back the thought. “You’re right, of course.” I bare her my most businessy smile. “See you tomorrow, bright and early. And on time.”

She tucks a wavy blonde strand behind her ear. “See you.”

Chapter 2

Harley

“Yes, Hannah, I really am on the plane to Costa Rica.” I frown, even though Hannah is thousands of miles away, probably chowing down the falafel I left by the sounds of it, and can’t see my frown at any rate. “You were there while I was frantically packing, remember?”

“Maybe I’m just trying to block it from my memory.” She cackles. “The sight of you yelling at nothing while you tried to fit half your closet into a tote the size of my boot was unenjoyable to say the least.”

“Not unenjoyable enough to avoid you filming some of it to show me later,” I remind her. “Remind me again why I thought living together was a good idea?”

I’m just messing with her, and Hannah knows it.

“Because we’re two peas in one wild pod,” she continues breezily, “Besides, what else are cousins for?”

“I don’t know, moral support? Once a year family gatherings and nothing more?”

“We’ve never been that kind of cousins, and you know it.”

I sigh. “And thank God for it, but seriously, Han, I’m freaking right now.” I look around, lowering my voice even though I don’t see anyone sitting nearby. “I’m on a fancy-ass plane on my way to Costa Rica to work with Greyson Storm on StormTV.”

“I still can’t believe he just let your punctuality jab slide.”

“He did ask for suggestions.”

“Har. On your first day—literally seconds after you’d been hired? In most places, that would be career suicide.”

“Well, I’m still here, aren’t I?” I say, with a bit more confidence than I feel.

“He probably thought you were hot,” Hannah says easily.

I throw another stealthy look around before declaring, “Top executives like Mr. Storm do not hire someone just because they’re hot! Not for a job like this. Maybe for