Page 5 of Professional Consult
Yeah, I still don’t understand the reason insanely rich assholes buy faux-stained clothes.
But I’m not here to ogle Clint’s handsome brother, so I click on the ‘News’ tab.
The screen fills with article after article of a local, small-town police chief that seemingly spends his days wrangling moose, settling small, domestic disputes, sitting in dunk tanks to raise money for the local school, and literally getting cats out of trees, which is something I thought firemen did.
Hold up, in his spare time, he volunteers as a local firefighter.
Holy heavens—Luke has all the makings of a damn rom-com protagonist, because women dig the humble human servant. The good guy that dedicates his life to humanity, only to stumble upon love at the most inopportune time and give the lucky woman the best sex of her life.
But that’s only how it plays out in the movies. The reality is that Luke is a small town hero who isveryeasy on the eyes. Is he brave? Yes. Undisputedly. Which means he’s probably arrogant. Heck, he’s Clint’s brother, so along with that hot gene, there’s a cocky one, ever prideful and eager to boast.
No, thank you.
I look down at the landscape, which is growing closer as the plane is about to land. Milton avoided the airport, opting for a private strip that’s used mostly for wilderness rescues.
There’s a police vehicle with two people standing next to it, but I don’t see anyone waiting to take my stuff back to the hotel, which irks me. The last thing I want to do is make Luke wait for me, but the jet is probably scheduled to be somewhere else, and I don’t want to leave my bags on the tarmac.
I squint and see a third person near a fence holding what looks like a camera.
Of course, Clint wants to get this on film, so he can one day play a clip of the time he helped me, a fucking acting veteran, with my career.
I look around for something to punch, suddenly wishing I’d gotten sloshed on the rest of the wine.
Be gracious. Give Luke that girl-next-door smile that’s won you so many awards.
Except, that smile is what’s keeping me from nailing this new role. Or rather, everything that accompanies the smile. The soft shrug of my shoulders I give, the gentle way with which I speak, my high voice.
I need to show the world I have a spine, and I can’t do that with myah, shuckspersonality.
Not that I can be rude. That could be used as a bullet against my reputation. I’ll just have to make myself into the enthusiastic go-getter, eager to get her feet wet. Surely ambition can’t be used against me.
Oh, really? Have you ever heard of Tracy Flick from Election?
Okay, so maybe I won’t be too overeager…
The plane touches down, and I squeeze my eyes shut, saying a silent prayer that I don’t end up murdering Clint’s brother.
The flight attendant begins her exit spiel, but I pull out two crisp one-hundred-dollar bills from my wallet, hand them to her, and say, “I’ve flown private hundreds of times. There’s no need to waste your breath.”
She takes the bills and gives me a manufactured grin. “Certainly.”
She opens the door and I descend the stairs, trying not to fall on my face because I’ve become so unnerved that my brain is threatening to quit on me.
It’s two fucking weeks in a quiet Colorado town. You can do this.
Once I’m down the stairs, I lift my head to meet Luke’s gaze and extend my hand.
Holy shit—am I imagining how handsome he is? So much more so than those articles gave him credit for.
And if I’m not mistaken, he’s huge! Clint’s acting bio pins him at six-foot-four, but Luke has at least two inches on him. A literal giant, so big around that his clothes have to be tailor-made.
I clear my throat. “Hello, I’m—”
Without warning, Luke takes my wrist, twists it, literally whips me around, and pushes me onto the stairs.
“What the—!”
“You have the right to remain silent!”
