Page 17 of The CEO I Hate (The Lockhart Brothers #1)

LIAM

“ F irst table read day!” Paula said, walking up and jostling my shoulder excitedly as people flooded through the door of the rehearsal space. She handed me a coffee. “Black. Like that storm cloud on your face.”

“Hmm,” I grumbled, taking the drink. “We’re already behind schedule.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “You know it takes everyone a hot minute to get back into the swing of things on the first day. Give them some time.”

“I am. This is me being lenient with the schedule.” I eyeballed one of my PAs across the room, giving them a discreet flick of my head. Jumping into action, they immediately darted into the hall, ushering the lingering cast members into the room and closing the door.

“You have to be looking forward to this,” Paula continued.

“When you first called me up about the job, you weren’t even sure we’d be able to get the writers’ room back on track.

Now episode one is written, we’re about to hear those gorgeous words read aloud, and then we’re gonna get all these beautiful people in front of some cameras.

We got a whole cast, a working script, and the production crew even has an unofficial production mascot. I’d say things are going great.”

“Wait. A…mascot?”

“The mutt,” Paula said. “Turns out the poor thing has been sneaking onto the lot for weeks. TJ was trying to find where the dog had come from, but, as it turns out, he has been here a while. A few crew members kept feeding him scraps and, well…” She shrugged.

“They named him Ash. You know, because…” She pointed at the whiteboard, where someone had written END IN FIRE in all capitals.

I stared at the board. Then at Paula.

Of course the crew had adopted that stray and branded him. I hadn’t even approved a marketing plan yet, but sure, let’s give mascot status to a dog that wandered in off the street, stole hearts, and probably stole half the catering.

I sighed, then looked out at the crowd of actors greeting each other after the filming hiatus.

“God, it reminds me of when we cast that thing down in Miami Beach,” Paula said. “Remember Spring Break ? Too many pretty people in one place. It was like an alternate reality.”

It had also been a big break for both of us. A smash hit that solidified VeriTV’s reputation as a must-have streaming service. Back then, we thought we’d finally figured it all out, and it would be smooth, easy sailing from then on.

Now here we were, years later, trying to wrap our heads around something altogether new and bizarre: the rituals of managing a high-quality scripted drama. What idiot signed us up for this carnival ride, again?

Oh yeah, it was me. I’m the idiot. In more ways than one .

In spite of myself, my eyes darted across the room, past all these supposedly pretty people, searching for one person and one person only. Finally, my gaze landed on Mia, parked in a chair at the small table the staff writers occupied.

Behind them was a series of blank whiteboards. Mia reached back, tying her hair up to contain her curls, flashing that long, tempting neck my way. She laughed at something Jerome said, shoving her glasses up to rub at her eyes.

The sound of her laugh was like a damn siren’s call, and I found myself entranced.

“Should we get started?”

“Huh?” I said, dragging my gaze away.

Paula gestured to the room. The cast had settled in at the large tables, where each seat provided them with a script and a microphone for the read. A few studio execs sat along the far wall along with some of the production crew.

“Yes, let’s get moving,” I said.

Paula walked out to the center of the room where she was joined by Ian Gillespie, the director for episode one. He’d shot the original pilot for season one and was my first choice to kick off this season. They made a quick round of introductions before jumping into the read.

Jerome acted as the narrator, reading out the action lines in between cast dialogue.

Mia’s eyes flicked around the room with every new voice, her bottom lip caught between her teeth in a way that was distractingly sexy.

I knew she was hanging on every reaction, eager to see what the cast thought of the first draft.

At one point, she clasped her pen so tightly, I thought she might snap it in half. Mia and Jerome had tackled episode one together—literally a trial by fire—along with some input from Paula, and I could tell she was nervous by the way her leg bounced beneath the table .

I imagined myself over there, sitting next to her, running my hand along her thigh, stilling her fidgeting with my touch.

I imagined the startled gasp that would spill from her lips and the flick of her eyes as she looked at me long and hard.

My hand would tighten around her leg, my fingers inching along?—

The sound of applause ripped me from the fantasy.

Jesus Christ ! I’d gotten so distracted I’d lost track of everything else—including the fact that the reading was wrapping up.

This was exactly what it was like at Jake’s New Year’s Eve party two years ago, when I’d been so wrapped up in staring at Mia that I hadn’t realized Jake had caught me at it.

He’d promptly smacked me upside the head and said, “Don’t look at my baby sister like that, you perv. ”

He’d been tipsy and probably didn’t even remember saying it, but I sure as hell remembered. The words echoed in my head every time I got within ten feet of Mia. And yet I couldn’t help myself from staring, every chance I got.

“Let’s have a special round of applause for our writing team,” Paula said, waving Mia and Jerome to their feet. “I think they absolutely crushed it.”

A few of the actors whistled loudly. Mia smiled, flushing a delicate shade of pink all the way down her neck, and I couldn’t help but wonder just how far down it went.

My thoughts skittered back to my fantasy.

Fantasy me didn’t care about what Jake had said.

But the real me, the one who had to look my best friend in the face every week, couldn’t do it.

Couldn’t make a move on his little sister.

He’d hate me, like he hated every guy Mia got involved with, and I couldn’t let that happen.

“Liam,” a voice called, and I turned to join the execs as they chatted about the episode .

“What’d you think?” I asked, waving over my PA. Carl popped up at my side, his phone already open to take notes.

“I think we gotta cram a little more action in there,” Stan Helms said.

He’d been with the show from the very beginning.

“This episode is very character heavy, which is great to start things off. I’m really liking all the development we got.

And I know we’re coming off the back of that massive season finale, but it’s a show about fire, so we need to see some more fire. ”

I nodded. “Agreed. Let’s give the people what they want.”

Stan clapped me on the shoulder. “Can’t wait to see the audience reception to this season. Great find in that new head writer.”

I almost scoffed. If he only knew. Instead, I turned to my PA. “Get those notes to Paula. Let me know what she says.” Carl nodded, hurrying off across the room.

“You ever have that pitch meeting with Damien Alverez?” Stan asked.

I nodded, my eyes wandering across the room to Mia again. She’d been nabbed by Leo Sinclair, the actor who played Cade, the character Mia was planning to feature far more heavily in season two.

Figures.

“What’d you think?” Stan continued.

“Uh—” I said, losing my train of thought.

The meeting with Damien had been fine, but I couldn’t focus on that just now. Leo had been dubbed the eye candy of Firehouse 14 by all the online reviewers, and he was currently flirting with Mia, if the way she was giggling was any indication.

I tried not to crush the coffee cup in my hand. It was bad enough watching some moronic twenty-year-old flirt with her the other week, but at least with Earl, I knew Mia wasn’t the slightest bit interested.

This was way worse .

This was a grown man who knew how to flirt, and who had the experience to back it up.

Moreover, Leo was one of those pretty people Paula had been talking about.

His dark features were striking, his smile the right amount of crooked, and the way he was leaning across the table toward her… He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Is VeriTV getting behind a space drama?” Stan said.

I turned back to him. “Not sure yet,” I said flatly. “Interesting premise, but a big departure from a grounded firehouse show.”

“ End in Fire was a big departure from reality TV,” Stan said. “And look how that turned out.”

My attention was drawn back to Mia and Leo. I couldn’t help myself. “Excuse me,” I said to Stan. “Just gotta pass on some notes to our new head writer.” I stalked across the room, a man on a mission, barely holding myself back from shoving Leo out of the way.

“We need to talk,” I said to Mia.

She blinked up at me. “Okay, sure.”

“We’ll chat later,” Leo said. “I’m really excited about this season.”

Mia smiled after him. “Sounds good.”

This wasn’t a big deal. Not at all. So why did it feel like it?

“Come with me, so we can talk privately,” I said through gritted teeth, well aware of the dozens of people within earshot.

Mia followed me out of the room. “So I think that went as well as we could have hoped,” she said. “Better than we hoped, actually!”

I shuffled off into a side room, closing the door behind us. Too hard. I was already screwing this up. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? ”

Mia’s eyes immediately narrowed. “Kicking ass on episode one. Or didn’t you notice everyone loved it?” Her chin went up and her jaw went tight—her default posture when she was feeling defensive. It took me a second to realize she thought I was upset about the episode.