First Comes Love - Ashlee Price Page 0,50
bet. As for what I’d like to coax out of you…
“Great,” I practically choke out, tearing my eyes off her so my brain can have some chance of focusing. “Let’s go.”
Once we’re in the film room, I can’t help but heave a sigh of relief.
“Tired of being under scrutiny 24/7?” Harley jokes.
“That’s not it,” I say, even though it is part of it.
“OK.”
The clock in this room is loud, each tick echoing around the high ceilings. The whizz of an overeager fan isn’t helping either.
“You’re right,” I finally admit. “It just comes with the job: the expectation that I’m some kind of man-God. Even though I’m no role model.”
Harley’s looking at me with something that, if I didn’t know better, I’d say was admiration. “The best ones never think they are.”
God, what the steady hazel gaze of hers does to me…
“Right.” I make for the green screen. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Harley hefts her camera on her shoulder. “Who knows, maybe it’ll be good the first take. It does happen.”
Not with me, it doesn’t. Talking to the camera feels like talking to my dad when he was in one of his stubborn moods, or even my batty old Grandma Josephine, who would as soon pat you on the head as chuck a slipper at your face screaming about elder abuse and demons in the Honey Nut Cheerios.
I take out the notes Madeline made for me and get reading. “This is Greyson Storm. As you may have heard recently, an unfortunate truth has come to light regarding my father, the late Collin Storm’s, tax evasion…”
Harley yawns loudly, mouthing: Bo–ring.
I glare at her, falling silent. So much for a perfect first take.
She shrugs. “I’m sorry, but come on. There was no point in going on like that. The normal Greyson Storm is a thousand times more interesting than whatever that was, trust me.”
“That’s how I am in front of the camera.”
“Not with me you aren’t,” she says. “Why don’t you ditch whatever pre-made script your assistant made you and just say what you really think?”
“That’s not what the public wants.”
“You might be surprised what they want.”
All I know is that I want you, I think but don’t say.
A strand has come loose from her pulled-back bun, and it seems almost unbearable that I can’t walk up to her, real close, and tuck it behind her ear. Then tip her chin up and…
Focus, Greyson.
“Try it,” she says. “For me?”
The last words crossed some invisible boundary, but I don’t care. The next thing I know, I’m tossing Madeline’s notes aside, and starting:
“You all know who I am. Why I’m here talking to you like this. I’m as sad and disappointed and angry about this whole tax evasion thing as you are. My dad was supposed to be an all-American, one of the good guys. He was supposed to be the one who not only made his own rules, but also didn’t break the intrinsic ones. But I’m not here to bash on my dad, whatever his faults. I’m not here to talk you out of thinking that Storm Inc. is a corrupt company, or even tell you that we’re a company that can change, come back and be ethical again. That’s for you to decide, based on the actions we’ll take over the next few weeks and months. I just wanted to be the one to tell you that we’ll be paying our debt in full. More than that, we’ll be running a lottery to pay off the debts of some of our most loyal viewers. And we want to hear from you. How we can do better. How companies around the world can. It’s not going to happen all at once, but I can promise that I will do everything in my power to put Storm Inc. back on the map for all the right reasons. Starting now. Thank you.”
I only realize I’ve stopped talking when Harley bursts out, “Wow! That was amazing! You were…”
“That was easy.” I can hardly believe I’m saying the words. “I just…”
Everything that happened still doesn’t feel real. Guess I signed up Storm Inc. for a new charity too. Clearly, selling Storm Music was the right—and only—choice.
I walk up to her, still stupefied. “You’re magic. Did that just happen?”
She laughs, looking so genuinely surprised and delighted and amused that before I’ve thought about it, I’ve kissed her.
It’s like coming home. Our bodies meld together.
She tastes like coffee, and I’d never have thought coffee could be