Chapter One Lila #2
His gaze drops to my hand—still holding my iced latte—then to my fingers.
“You’re shaking,” he says softly, like it’s not a judgment, just a fact.
Before I can deny it, Evan reaches out and steadies the cup at the bottom, anchoring it with his palm.
Warm. Solid.
It’s a tiny touch. Professional. Harmless.
But my skin sparks anyway.
“Triple shot?” he murmurs, amused.
“Allegedly,” I whisper back, and his mouth quirks like he’s trying not to smile too hard.
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.”
I wink at him. “Exactly. So, we’ll be working with an outside camera crew to bring these moments to the people and show them that Station 47 not only needs their trust, but also their support.
The power of the people can’t be discounted, especially with Andrew Banks attempting to reallocate city funding. ”
“Funding is already limited, too,” the captain interrupts. “Even with most of our operating budget coming from taxpayer dollars, we’ve still had to manage our costs in recent years by cutting salaries, using outdated equipment, and relying heavily on volunteers.”
I’m so thrilled by the fact that this grouch is speaking in complete sentences to me that I grin in spite of his words.
“Yes! Totally! And that’s why we’re going to couple this campaign with a donation drive.”
Hargrove shrugs. “I see the value in that, but I don’t like the sound of these episodes you’re describing. It sounds like reality television.”
“Well, because it is, Hale,” I counter cheerfully. “Less trashy, of course. But it allows us to control the narrative. We’ll make the people fall in love with you!”
Noah smirks. “The people already love me.”
“The people think you snatched a cat off the streets and chucked it into a tree, buddy,” Evan comments lightly.
“Okay, but I’m sure the people would be thrilled to learn that Mittens now has a safe home with a wonderful young couple in Park Slope.” Noah crosses his beefy arms. “I personally made sure he was brought to the best shelter in the city, and he was adopted in, like, less than an hour.”
“And we’re definitely going to put a pin in that,” I smoothly cut in. “Maybe we can have an entire micro-episode focusing on Mittens, time permitting. We’ll want to make sure we’re putting out daily content. Consistency is the best way to build trust and rally donations.”
“It’s a brilliant plan,” Evan says.
“Thank you,” Lou and I respond at the same time.
“It’s a circus,” Hale sighs.
“It’s your survival,” I counter. “And I’m devoted to ensuring it, sir.”
He lifts a brow at “sir,” but he doesn’t say anything.
I forge ahead. “That’s precisely why, if you read my most recent email, I suggested embedding myself here in the firehouse to produce twenty-four-seven content and meticulously manage the messaging.”
“I’m afraid that’s not poss—”
“In fact, I’ve already cleared it with your union,” I dare to interrupt. “As long as I remain in the mezzanine and sleep separate from the staff, my temporary residence at your firehouse is totally okay.”
I’m pretty sure the lady I spoke with said something about no fraternizing, and there’s a bunch of paperwork I still need to sign, but even Lou agrees it’s an essential part of my scheme.
I think she’s probably just grateful that she’s not the one who will have to move into a glorified frat house for the next couple of weeks.
Captain Hargrove looks like he has about three hundred counterarguments locked and loaded, but Noah is wiggling like a puppy and Evan is smiling with absolute ease, so he’s clearly outnumbered.
Plus, I can see it in his gorgeous stormy eyes. He knows I’m a genius. He knows this plan will work. That it absolutely has to work.
“Alright, then,” he grumbles. “You’re the expert.”
I smile brightly. “Great. Let’s make you heroes again.”