Page 27 of Fierce Love (Tucker Billionaires)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Hollyn

N ate keeps his word to make sure Kinsley gets back and forth to training for the next week as the production schedule grinds to a standstill.

We were supposed to start shooting the first episode, but the Bellerive network behind the show didn’t think there was enough drama in the outline and told production to hold until they were satisfied the content would draw viewers.

Nate said it wasn’t a big deal, but Posey seemed a little concerned that the network didn’t understand the vision behind the program. If there’s one thing I understand from being in New York, it’s that profits trump vision every time.

I’m not sure how Nate manages to give the impression he’s capable of being everywhere at once, but that’s how it feels.

The minute anything shakes my sense of belonging or causes me to doubt my choices—a wardrobe fitting, a questionable line of dialogue the writers run past me, Kinsley’s attitude—Nate is at my side, helping me adjust without sacrificing any of my strength. A gentle, solid presence.

Somehow, I forgot what a good listener he is, but when he’s within hearing distance of a conversation I’m having, he seems to be filing the details away, helping to smooth out any rough roads behind the scenes.

And it’s hard to know, given how little experience I have, if that’s literally his job or if he’s doing it for me, specifically.

I haven’t had the guts to ask Posey if he’s doing it for her too—I’m not sure what I’d do with either answer.

On top of that, each time he picks up or drops off Kinsley, he seems to sew her a little more firmly into the fabric of Bellerive.

This week, she’s been brimming with Bellerive facts, little known stories of the island, and a few well-placed nuggets about teenage me that Nate let slip.

None of his memories are embarrassing, but the specifics surprise me.

On Friday, we’ve all assembled into the conference room to find out whether production is a go for next week, when Nate comes in last, rubbing his face. He slides into a seat beside Tariq. Felipe and Stewart are also here today, so I’m wondering if the news is bad.

I try to remember what my contract said if the show doesn’t even get off the ground. My bigger worry is Kinsley. She won’t take a cancellation well.

“One of the key ways the network can make money early is through product placement,” Stewart says, clicking through the slideshow on the supersized screen.

“Since this is one of the first large-scale Bellerivian-sourced and run productions, and we’re anticipating being picked up by Interflix, we’ve had a lot of interest in products that range from Kale’s Fried Chicken to Riccard’s Heavy Equipment.

They’ve all asked for placement.” He pauses the slide on a long list of products and then clicks to a second, equally as long.

“And the network said yes to all of them.”

Posey gasps. “ All of them? How do we maintain the integrity of the show?”

“They didn’t agree to a verbal pitch for many, so it’s literally a placement in a scene for a set amount of time.

Tariq has a list of requirements and which episode we’ve agreed to use a certain product.

” Steward nods at the director. “The verbal pitches will take some finagling, and some of them specifically asked for either Hollyn or Posey to be the one speaking about their product.”

“Are any of them design related?” Posey asks.

“A few, which is why we’ve brought everyone here.

This might mean that you can’t get your first choice of product for something if we have a sponsorship or placement deal.

We didn’t anticipate this much interest from this many parties, and we certainly didn’t expect the network to agree to all of them—no matter how unrelated.

” Felipe sighs. “The dialogue might take some finessing, but the writers are aware of what needs to be done to make everything feel natural, even if you’re saying unnatural things. ”

“We can make it work,” I say with confidence, and when I meet Posey’s gaze, I give her a little nod.

“As long as we’re free to alter the dialogue a bit whenever it feels stilted, I think we can improv things to make them feel natural.

” Posey and I already have a good rhythm to our conversations, and she’s naturally witty. I just have to be able to keep up.

“I like your attitude,” Felipe says. “Sometimes you gotta roll with the punches. We want to get the show up and running, and then we can try pushing back on some of the more absurd requests.”

Rolling with the punches used to be my specialty, and while I might have gotten a bit out of practice with being hyperflexible—I learned that giving in only gets you so far in life—I have faith in Tariq, Nate, and Posey’s direction, even if these other people don’t instill as much confidence.

“If we want the Interflix pickup, we need to knock these first few episodes out of the park. Expect reshoots, multiple takes of the same scene, different angles explored on the competition between Posey and Hollyn. Anything that we can afford to run multiple ways, we will until we hit on a formula that seems to yield the highest interest”—Stewart glances at Posey—“while maintaining the integrity of the show, of course.”

“Of course,” Posey says, but even I can tell by her wry smile that Stewart tacking that on at the end didn’t soothe her initial worries.

This conversation is making me wonder whether either of us will even want to do a second season if it’s offered, even if Interflix picks it up.

The only thing I’m not sure I can stomach, what I’m sure won’t benefit my career in New York, is being embarrassed about the product we put out.

Something kitschy and unrealistic will make my life harder in every way.

“We have a green light for Monday, so let’s make sure we bring our A game and our flexibility to set.

For the first few episodes, you’ll get to walk through the house before we shoot so your design ideas are at your fingertips when you talk to the camera,” Nate says.

“The network has come in hot in terms of their involvement, which we weren’t anticipating.

” Nate doesn’t say that’s because he and the government fronted most of the money, but I’m sure that’s what he’s thinking.

Without a network to deliver the program to the masses, the endeavor means nothing, so I understand the push-pull he must be feeling. “Enjoy your weekends.”

When I rise with everyone else, Nate stays seated for a beat, a pensive expression on his face. “Hollyn, can I see you in my office for a minute?”

He’s been friendly and professional with me all week, and the only time we’ve slipped beyond work colleagues is when he has picked up or dropped off Kinsley. Even then, we’re cautious with each other, as though we’re balanced on the edge of quicksand.

“Sure,” I say, smoothing down my skirt and following him out of the conference room.

Once we’re in the office, he tips his head at the door. “Close that, will you?”

I do, suddenly a bit worried. What if I’m getting fired before we even start?

Nate’s removed his perfectly tailored suit jacket, a look I’ve admired so many times in the last week. There’s something about grown-up Nate, in command, sure of himself, that causes a flame to flicker in my core.

He comes around to perch on the edge of his desk, facing me, and rolls up his sleeves to reveal his tanned forearms. His lack of eye contact is worrying, even if my brain is focused on each roll of his shirt material that bunches just beyond his elbow.

Desire and nerves form a confusing concoction in my belly. I don’t sit down.

“Is it bad news?” I ask. “Or do you not want to deal with Kinsley anymore? Because I can sympathize.”

He lets out a light chuckle and shakes his head. “No, I’m just measuring my words—trying to figure out the best recipe for success.”

“You do that?”

“With you? All the time.” Our gazes lock, and my stomach flips.

It’s really unfair how attractive he is.

Those eyes can sear my soul without an ounce of effort on his part.

Looking at him is physically painful sometimes.

We were together for such a short amount of time—one summer—but the emotions were infinite, unending, heart-wrenching.

God, I loved him with my whole fucking heart.

Loved every inch of him, inside and out.

That’s really the problem with being around him now—even if Nathaniel lost all his hair, gained five hundred pounds, became hideously disfigured, he’d still be Nate . The fact that he’s maintained his gorgeous exterior is just karma’s way of rewarding him while laughing at me.

“You don’t have to watch how you deliver your words with me,” I say.

“Yes, I do,” he says, and his eyes light with amusement.

“Try me.”

“I want to fly you and Kinsley to New York this weekend on the family jet. Kinsley told me she’s a huge fan of Mia Malone, and I can get us tickets in a private suite in New York for Saturday.”

“Oh,” I say, rocking back on my heels.

“Yeah—see?” He gestures toward my stunned expression. “I can’t just say what I want. My wealth freaks you out sometimes. It always has.”

“Kin is a MiaMite,” I admit, still processing what he’s said. “Obsessed would be an understatement.”

“She mentioned that you’d promised her tickets months ago, but then obviously you accepted the job here… and those tickets are hard to come by, apparently.”

I can’t even imagine the strings he had to pull to get us tickets at short notice.

Her tour has been sold out all over North America.

Mia Malone looks similar to Ariana Grande, sings like vintage Mariah Carey, and has the star appeal of Britney Spears or Taylor Swift at the height of their fame. And Kinsley loves her .

I’d promised the tickets knowing I’d have to land a big design contract to pull off the price, and then with Aunt Verna dying and getting the job here, the concert slipped my mind. Kinsley wouldn’t have wanted to mention it to me in case I suggested we return to New York permanently.

“You’re going to steal my sister’s heart,” I say with a half smile.

“It’s not her heart I’m aiming for,” he says without missing a beat. “What do you say? Whirlwind trip to New York? You can check in on your apartment, Kinsley can see a few of her friends, maybe you two can grab anything you might have wanted to have in Bellerive that you never thought to bring…”

That would also appeal to Kinsley. Her stuff and her friends.

“Does Kinsley know?”

“Give me some credit,” Nate says with a scoff. “I knew you had to say yes first. She’s not going to say no, is she?”

“The three of us?”

“I secured four tickets, so Kin can bring a friend from here or from New York. I figured it would be more fun for her than hanging out with just us.”

“And we’d leave…”

“Tonight. The New York apartment is available, so we can stay there. Maximize our time tomorrow before the concert.”

I want to ask him if his mother knows he’s doing this for me, for Kinsley. It’s one thing for him to fund a TV show I’m part of, but it’s a whole different vibe to whisk me and my sister off to a weekend in New York on the family jet and to stay in the Tucker family apartment.

Except, there’s nothing going on between me and Nate. He’s doing this for Kinsley.

Which, if I’m honest, is also for me because I’m the one who promised and wasn’t going to come through. Nate saving my relationship with my sister one over-the-top kindness at a time.

“You know I’m not staying in Bellerive once our show wraps. Kin and I are going back to New York. So, if you think… I don’t know… I just want to make sure that’s clear.”

“I know what you’ve said,” Nate agrees easily, eyeing me. “And I know that we’re adults and that New York isn’t on another planet. It’s one short flight from Bellerive. My stance hasn’t changed, Hols. You don’t want us, you don’t want us. But if you think you can’t have us, you’re wrong.”

Sometimes you don’t understand you can hate someone for something they’ve done until you’re confronted with the crime. I hate myself for the pain I caused Nate. Necessary, maybe, but unforgiveable.

“I get to pay for all our meals, including anything we buy at the stadium,” I say.

Another amused expression floats across Nate’s face, and I know that even if he agrees, he’ll find some way to thwart my efforts.

The number of times he let me pay for anything when I was a teenager, I could count on one finger.

Of course, I couldn’t really afford to pay for anything, but my pride wouldn’t let me stop trying.

He was the master of slipping someone his card when I wasn’t looking or prepaying before we even arrived.

“Deal,” Nate says. “Shall we shake on it?”

He extends his hand, and I eye it for a beat, nerves zipping up and down my spine.

As our palms make contact, a shiver cascades across my skin, a familiar sensation.

He has calluses, and I wonder if he still cuts wood with Cal, ball cap backwards, skin glistening in the sun.

The thought causes my own cheeks to heat.

With a gentle tug, he draws me between his legs, and he releases my hand to run his thumb along my cheekbone.

Gentle and intoxicating. Our gazes are locked, and there’s a part of me that wants him to lean in, brush his full lips against mine, slide his hand into my hair, angle his mouth over mine, deepen the kiss, make me forget all the reasons I can’t let us happen.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispers. “Every time I see you across a room, standing in front of me, literally cradled in my hands, I question everything. Do you know how often and how long I wished you were here?” His voice is gravel, scraping across my heart.

“Nate,” I breathe out. I never let myself wish for him because I knew wishes were futile. I used up all my wishes on something else.

“I’m in no rush, Hols. I’ve got time, but I’m not letting you go without showing you that you don’t need to leave. Not this time.”

And then I do the thing I know I shouldn’t, that’ll only lead us into something that’ll break both our hearts. I grip the back of his neck, and I kiss him.