Page 1 of The Hook Up
CHAPTER1
“Come on, you worm-slurping pile of?—”
“Hey, Ty!”
Tyler Hendrix looked up from the handheld boom mic he’d been fighting with and saw Miriam Ashley, co-owner of First Impressions Branding & PR, in the doorway of his office. From her vantage point, she seemed unsurprised by Ty’s colorful string of profanity.
He gave a respectful salute from behind his desk. “Hey, boss.”
Miriam rolled her eyes and ambled into the room, her very pregnant belly preceding her by a good half-mile. “Are you planning to drop the ‘boss’ thing anytime soon?”
Ty grunted in response but set the mic down on his desk. She’d been his boss for more than six years. Even though Ty was now a partner in First Impressions and the head of their new offshoot video studio, he’d probably always see her as the one in charge.
“You’re officially Speak Up’s first guest of the day,” he said as Miriam eased into the chair in front of his desk. “I’d offer you a drink, but all I have is lukewarm beer left over from the open house party.”
“Tempting, but I’ll pass,” she said. “Actually, I just came by to remind you about my sister-in-law. You’re renting her the conference space for some after-hours sales parties?”
“Right, yeah, of course.” Ty said a silent thank you for the reminder. Setting up a brand new company in a brand new space had been hell on his schedule. What was the deal with the sister-in-law again? Tupperware parties or something. It didn’t matter much to him, as long as she paid rent on time and left the room tidy afterward. He picked up the mic again and began wrenching on it. If the damn clip would just?—
“I hope you don’t mind, but I told her you’d give her a few tips,” Miriam said.
“Sure,” he muttered. “Don’t buy boom mics from discount photo supply websites.”
“Tips aboutbusiness,” Miriam clarified. “I told her everything you’ve done to get this place up and running, and she was hoping to pick your brain a little.”
“Sure, no prob.” He stole a covert glance at his watch, trying to remember when his next client was due. An hour, maybe? God, he was so far behind on email and?—
“I have to run, but nice job here.” She started to heft herself out of the chair, and Ty jumped up to lend a hand. She waved him off and rested a hand on her belly. “Please. Even if I can’t go more than ten minutes without peeing, I can still launch myself from a chair to run the universe.”
“Peeing and running the universe sounds like the pinnacle of multi-tasking.”
She grinned and ambled toward the door. “The place looks great, Ty. Nice work.”
“Thanks.” He tried to keep his voice even, but the compliment made his chest balloon with pride.
As she vanished out the door, he sat back down and booted up his computer, toggling to the client management software. He scrolled until he found details on his first appointment of the day. L.E. Birmingham was the owner of a company called Pin Action. They manufactured custom bowling balls and other accessories for the avid bowler. Not really Ty’s cup of tea, but he’d done his homework. The guy wanted a full multi-media plan, and Ty already had a spreadsheet full of ideas.
Footsteps in the hallway pulled his attention to the door. He looked up to see a stunning blonde wearing a red dress that hugged every luscious curve. She had legs that went on for miles and hair that slid over her shoulders like a golden curtain. Her eyes were the most mesmerizing shade of blue he’d ever seen, and when she smiled at him, Ty knocked the keyboard onto his lap.
“Are you Ty the video guy?” She gave a tense laugh. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make a poem out of your name. I’m a little nervous. I’m L.E.”
Thiswas L.E. Birmingham? Ty’s voice had stopped working, so he bought himself some time by righting his keyboard and shoving the boom mic to the edge of his desk. That’s what he’d tried for, anyway. He pushed too hard and the mic hit the floor, making them both jump.
Ty stood up. “You’re L.E.”
“In the flesh.”
Do not think about her flesh. Do not think about her flesh.
“I’m so sorry,” Ty said. “I wasn’t expecting you quite yet.”
Her cheeks pinkened, and she touched a hand to her chest. “Oh, no. It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I emailed asking if I could swing by early, and I thought?—”
“No, it’s fine.” He waved her into the room, annoyed with himself for coming off like a disorganized jackass. “Totally my fault,” he said. “I’ve gotten a little behind on email, but it’s fine. Come on in. Everything’s fine.”
Jesus, Ty. Say “fine” one more time so she thinks you’re a monosyllabic idiot.
He cleared his throat and extended his hand. “Sorry, let me start again,” he said. “I’m Ty. Welcome. It’s great to meet you, L.E.”
