First Comes Love (Love Comes To Town)

“These are mandatory?”

“I didn’t even know about them until yesterday when Greyson’s assistant sent them.” I sigh. “Thought I’d be going into my first day of work at the office today.”

“Well…” Hannah’s clearly trying to find a positive side of this, and having trouble with it. “At least you’re getting paid for this?”

“Sure. And I did get some sleep in an hour or so ago, so that was good.”

“Why?” Hannah’s smile my way is knowing. “Didn’t get much last night?”

I can’t stop my grin. “You know it.”

“Ready to admit it now?”

“Hannah.”

She sighs. “Fine. Though if you ask me, you should just call up Greyson and sweetly ask if there’s been some kind of mix-up. Maybe he doesn’t even know about the videos.”

“You just want me to call him,” I say.

“No, I just want you to stop groaning and eating all the apple chips,” she says, leaving and taking the bag with her as she does so.

I glare at my phone for a minute or so, give Anchovy a good little belly rub, then finally cave and call up Greyson.

“Hey,” he says. “How are you?”

“Sleepy but good,” I say.

“Good,” he says. “Finished the videos?”

“No, there’s still three hours to go.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been watching for five hours. I don’t want to be rude, but could there have been some kind of mix-up? These things are from the 80s and pointless as hell.”

“Five hours? Shit. What are they even about?”

“Workplace safety, and… I honestly fell asleep.” I sigh. “Sorry, I probably sound like a terrible employee. I shouldn’t have called.”

“No, you were right to. I haven’t even heard of these.”

“So I don’t have to watch the last three hours?”

“No. I’ll talk to Madeline.”

“OK, thanks.”

“No problem.”

It’s weird. This whole conversation has seemed flat, completely neutral. Like I really was just talking to my boss.

“So, Greyson, about last night…”

“We do have to keep it professional here, you know,” he cuts in.

“Exactly what I was going to say,” I say coolly. “That it?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Goodbye.”

He starts to say something just as I hang up. I toss my phone aside with a frown. Anchovy scurries away.

Not that I meant to hang up right as Greyson was saying something, but if it’s that important, he’ll call me back.

I slap my laptop closed, balling some duvet in my fist.

What was up with his ‘keep it professional’ comment? Just because I smoked pot that one time at camp, and our whole affair happened, doesn’t mean I’m some idiot airhead who has no common sense when it comes to work.

I thought Greyson knew that. Just what does he think of me, anyway?

“Screw it,” I say, lying down and going under my covers. “At least I can get some sleep now.”Chapter 23Greyson

I make sure to get to the office early to talk to Madeline without the risk of being interrupted. Our talk shouldn’t take long.

“You look good,” I say, taking in her rosy cheeks and usual vigorous walk with relief. She looked well yesterday too, but she was so busy I hardly had a moment alone with her. “I was worried.”

“My family have always been quick healers.” She gives her tightly honey-bunned head little laugh. “I’m a bit surprised I got sick at all. It’s good to see you too, Mr. Storm. Everyone loves the new show, too.”

“Let’s hope the public agrees. I wanted to thank you for everything you handled while I was gone. I’ve been surprised how little there’s been for me to do now that I’m back.”

She grins. “Just doing my job.”

“About the new hire, Harley,” I continue, as her grin wavers almost imperceptibly. “Any reason why you had her watch eight hours’ worth of 80s videos for an orientation day we don’t normally have?”

By now, Madeline’s kindly milkmaid features could be carved from stone. “No. No reason. Just thought since she’s so young, going above and beyond as far as training goes wouldn’t be amiss.”

“Right.”

I eye her, trying to decide how to phrase the next part. It was one thing for Landon to claim the ‘whole office’ knows about me and Harley based on some cryptic comments, but Madeline would definitely know if anyone does: she’s the eyes and ears of the place.

“About Ms. Davis…” I continue.

“Don’t worry,” she cuts me off with a crisp red-lipped smile. “I have her cubicle on the opposite side of the floor. Near the coffee machines. Far from yours.” Her chin lifts. “Since Gabriel was so happy to retire, and we have no back-up cinematographers on hand, I’ve also prepared a folder of resumes of potential candidates, if it should come to it.”

If it should come to it. Huh.

Again, that smile annoys me instead of reassuring me like it usually does.

Maybe because, without a single word, Madeline has made herself clear: I know, and I’ve handled it.

Problem is, have I ‘handled it’ on my end?