Over Evan’s shoulder, Noah is watching us with a lazy, knowing grin.
And Hale—
Hale’s stare lands on Evan’s hand on my cup.
It’s just a glance. A flicker.
But Evan’s fingers shift away like he felt the temperature drop.
“Nice to—”
Captain Hargrove cuts me off with a sigh. “Come on, then. Let’s get this meeting over with.”
I beam at him, thinking that if I was Snow White and these were three of the seven dwarves, he’d totally be Grumpy. Noah is definitely Happy. Evan, however, might take a minute to figure out.
“Let’s get started,” I agree.
I’m not going to let a surly hottie get me down this soon in the game, after all. My girlboss world domination arc begins now, and these firefighters are going to help me as much I’m helping them…whether they like it or not.
***
“In my defense, the cat was absolutely fine. It genuinely needed my help!”
“And you decided the best way to offer help was to strip off half your clothing and whip out your Tok-Tok?”
“Captain, with all due respect, it’s called TikTok.”
“Gentlemen,” I cut in, drawing their attention back to the front of the conference room we’ve gathered in. “We’re not here to place blame or spread shame. The internet has already done enough of that.”
“Amen,” Noah sighs.
Hale purses his lips but gestures for me to continue. Beside him, Evan sits there, patient and pretty like an angel. An angel with a swimmer’s body, to be precise. My attention snags on the way Evan’s forearms flex when he shifts in his chair. Strong. Steady. The kind of hands that look like they’d know exactly how to hold someone together when they’re falling apart.
The thought arrives uninvited — fleeting, inappropriate — and I shove it away immediately.
Get it together, Lila.
I’m not here to fantasize about my clients.
“We’re here to fix this,” I continue. “Regardless of how it happened, Station 47 has a reputation problem, and that has led to a funding problem. Not only does that imply future job insecurity, but also potential risks to public safety. We need firefighters, especially in a place like New York City where population density and a general aura of chaos means things tend to go wrong approximately every eleven seconds.”
Noah chuckles at this. Evan cracks a smile.
Hale, whose first name I’m still not sure of, merely stares at me, waiting for me to get to the point.
“So, I present to you… Save A Hero!”
Lou taps her iPad screen to bring up the first slide of the PowerPoint currently being projected onto the blank wall behind me.
“It’s a transparency campaign,” I explain. “You metaphorically open your doors to the public to let people see the real work, the real heart, behind the uniforms. You humanize yourselves, but on your own terms and specifically in the context of all the incredible services that New York firefighters provide to the people of this city.”
Lou taps to the next slide, but I don’t even need to glance back. I’ve had this memorized for the past week.
Not because I’m desperate for this to work out or anything. I just like to be prepared.
“It’s a multi-pronged social media strategy. The main focus points will be three flagship events, filmed as family-friendly micro-episodes designed to pull on the public’s heartstrings—”
“Oh, that’s a good one,” Evan murmurs. “Because you’re called Hartstrings PR. And your last name is Hart.”
