Love at First Kiss
Love Comes First Book One
Olivia T. Turner
Copyright© 2020 by Olivia T. Turner.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including emailing, photocopying, printing, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. For permission requests, email [email protected]
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, businesses, companies, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Edited by Karen Collins Editing
Cover Design by Olivia T. Turner
Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Epilogue
Epilogue
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Chapter One
Nolan
“Thirty-six million is not enough?” Eli asks, looking outraged.
I lean back in my chair and try to fight back the grin on my lips as my brothers go at it.
Westin doesn’t say anything, but his jaw is tight. He doesn’t think it’s enough.
“I would have squeezed forty out of him,” Westin says flatly as he rifles through some papers.
Eli is about to explode until we meet eyes and I give him a look that says, ‘who cares what Westin thinks, it’s never enough for him.’
With a sigh, Eli leans back in his chair and loosens his tie. “Where is Brooke with the food? I’m starving.”
My other brother, Luke, checks his phone. “She’ll be here in five minutes.”
It’s nine o’clock on a Thursday night and we’re all still at the office. Our office.
My father left his five children Cline Investments, Real Estate, & Holdings, or Cline Corp for short. It was a failing investment firm that we inherited five years ago and since turned into a powerhouse of making cash. You’d swear we had a money printer in the basement with the way we’re earning.
The four boys—Eli, Luke, Westin, and I—run the company and we’re damn good at it. Our younger sister Brooke was always more of the artsy type—drawing on the wallpaper as a kid and singing in the packed car on family vacations. She wanted to be an actress instead, so she gave up her control in the company, but she still gets a fifth of the profit, which is more than any A-list celebrity would hope to earn.
Luke starts pacing around the conference room as Westin moves onto the next point in our agenda. “Which of us is going to Harold Brown’s charity gala?”
All four of us shout “not it,” at the same time, like we’re kids again trying to decide who gets to tell dad that another basement window got shattered by a hockey puck.
“One of us has to go,” Westin points out. He’s always great at pointing out the obvious, no matter how unpleasant it is.
“Those charity galas are so stuffy,” Eli says, pretending to gag. “Those people are so conservative. I swear it’s all a show they put on for each other before they go home to their sex dungeons. It can’t be real.”
“It’s real,” Luke says as he stops at the window and looks out at the spectacular view of Manhattan at night. “These are old school people with old school values. Big time prudes. At one event I went to, I saw Mr. Brown chew out the band for playing Lady in Red by Chris de Burgh. He said that red was the color of the devil.”
“Well, he’s expecting one of us to be there,” Westin says as he taps his pen on the table. “And he’s our biggest investor.”
Like we need to be reminded of that. The old man gave us nine figures to play around with last year and is planning on adding more to it this year. But Mr. Brown is very traditional and doesn’t approve of bachelors in their thirties, like we all are, except for Eli who’s only twenty-eight. He wants his investors to have family values like him, which translates into being married with five kids by the age of twenty-six.
It’s too late for that, but the least we can do is show up at his charity events in a suit with a pretty smiling girl on our arms. We can call up our tailor and get a suit made easily, but the pretty girl is a bit harder to find. Especially when you hardly ever leave the office.
“I’m not going,” Eli says as he leans back and crosses his arms. He’s the youngest of the four of us and still tries to play the baby card, even though it never works.
Luke is thirty and has always been the largest of us. All of us Cline brothers are big muscular men—the football, hockey, and rugby coaches were always at our house during our high school years trying to recruit us—but Luke is the biggest. He walks behind Eli, grabs his tie, and holds it up like a noose, choking him. “You’ll go, if I say you go.”
I start to laugh and shake my head when Eli grabs a hold of Luke’s leg, lifts him up, and tackles him onto the conference table.
“Oh, very mature,” Westin snaps as he quickly snatches his papers off the table before the two big men roll over them as they start to wrestle. They knock over empty coffee cups and a few files fall to the ground, spilling papers and contracts everywhere as they fight in their two thousand dollar suits.
“Get the fuck off me!” Eli shouts when Luke pins him to the table and presses the side of his head into the hard wood.
“Say you’re going,” Luke grunts as Eli tries unsuccessfully to fight him off.
“No! Fuck you!” he shouts as Brooke walks in with the food.
All is forgotten when the tantalizing smell of Chinese food wafts into the conference room. Luke and Eli jump off the table to grab some brown paper bags from my overloaded little sister.
“Another productive meeting at Cline Corp I see,” Brooke says with a grin as we all rip into the bags and dump one carton after another onto the table.
“As usual,” I say while I search for the Kung Pao Chicken.
“You guys are doing something right,” Brooke says as she plops into a chair and watches as her big brothers rip through the bags and paper cartons like a bunch of hyenas descending on an animal carcass. We’re all looking professional in fancy suits, but throw some food on the table in front of us and we morph back into savage teenagers fighting over the last bowl of Lucky Charms once again. “My quarterly bonus was astronomical. I won’t need to audition for roles if you guys keep this up. Next year, I’ll be able to buy the production company and put myself in any starring role I choose.”
Westin gets some plates from the kitchenette and starts handing them out. “That’s a good industry,” he says as he hands me a plate. “Very good margins. You might be on to something.”
“Lots of hot girls too,” Eli says with a raised eyebrow as he digs into the sweet and sour chicken.
“Knowing you guys,” Brooke says with a laugh, “you’d just bark at them to get back to work.”
She does have a point there. The four of us boys have always put work before our personal lives. Which is why the business makes a ton of money, but also why we’re all still single and go home to an emp
ty bed every night.
“Do any of you have anything going on in the woman department?” she asks. We all keep our eyes down on the food as we load our plates up. No one says a word.
“You guys are unbelievable,” she says with a shake of her head. “Four good looking, rich, successful bachelors and you all refuse to date!”
“I don’t refuse to date,” Luke says as he bites a spring roll in half. “I just haven’t found anyone I’m interested in.”
“Because you never leave this office!” Brooke snaps. “You guys have to get out. Date. Get laid.”
“Whoa!” Westin says as he shoots her a look. “Little sister alert.”
“I’m twenty-three,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not so little anymore and neither are any of you. You need to settle down. It can’t all be about work.”
“It’s not,” I tell her. “It’s about making money too.”
My brothers laugh and Luke high-fives me. We do like to make cash in this family and we’re unapologetic about it.
Dating on the other hand… I would like to meet a girl, but I just haven’t found anyone that gets my heart pumping. I’ve never had that spark with a woman, so I just dive into work instead.
“Actually, one of us is going on a date,” Westin says as he sits down with his overflowing plate. “We just don’t know which one yet.”
“What do you mean?” Brooke asks with a curious laugh.
We tell her all about Mr. Brown’s charity gala and how one of us needs to go with a date to the party.
“It’s a formal party,” Westin explains. “Mr. Brown is a very old fashioned client.”
“He’s been married for a hundred and sixteen years and expects everyone else to have done the same,” I add with a shake of my head. “It’s ridiculous.”
“But he’s a huge client,” Westin quickly adds. “And there will be other potential clients there, so one of us has to go.”
Brooke pulls back her black hair and grins as she watches us. “Who’s it going to be?”
“We haven’t decided that yet,” Eli says. “Although, I don’t think it should be me since I went to that golfing event last month.”
“We’ve all been to work events,” I remind him with a hard stare. “I had to go to the Philippines in April.”
“Let me help,” Brooke says as she jumps up from her chair. She grabs the three remaining spring rolls from the box and then grabs one off of Luke’s plate. Brooke is the only person in the world who can grab food off of Luke’s plate and live to tell the story about it. She still gets a dirty look from her older brother, although she shakes it off with a sweet innocent smile.
“We’re going to draw spring rolls,” she says with a grin. I’m already nervous as she bites the end off of one of them and chews it. She shows us her back and when she turns around again, the four spring rolls are in her hand all lined up at the same height. “Short spring roll gets to go on the date and potentially find the love of their life.”
“You say that like it’s a good thing,” I say with a huff.
She gives me a look as she walks up to Luke. “It is a good thing! You guys need more than just work. You need love.”
“I have love,” Eli says as he devours his dumplings. “I love these peanut butter dumplings. I want to bring them to my office and make love to them.”
“Don’t be gross,” Brooke says as Luke picks a long spring roll.
“Yes!” he shouts before biting into it with a relieved grin on his face.
Eli draws a full one as well and then it’s my turn.
Brooke holds up her hand and I close my eyes and take one. I hear my brothers laughing before I open my eyes, so I know I’m fucked.
My stomach sinks when I open my eyes and see the chewed off end. Brooke grabs it from my hand and eats the rest of it as I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “Where the hell am I going to find a date for this thing?”
“How about an escort service?” Eli says with a laugh.
“I have someone,” Brooke says as she sits back down.
Oh, great. This is the last thing I need. A date with one of Brooke’s actress friends…
“She’s an actress, so it will be perfect. Her name is Arya. She’s really sweet and she’s beautiful.”
“How old is this beautiful actress who is very sweet?”
“Twenty-one or twenty-two?” Brooke says. “She just moved to New York from Arkansas. We met in my acting class. She could use some money, so I’m sure she’ll say yes if you pay her.”
“An escort?” I ask wearily.
“She’s an actress,” Brooke corrects with a glare. “Unless you have a better idea…”
I have a better idea. Ditch this charity gala instead. It’s the last thing I want to go to, especially with some girl ten years younger than me who is being paid to be there.
“Thank you,” Westin says for me. “He’ll gladly accept.”
I dump my plate onto the table and sit back with a sigh. Suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite.
Why couldn’t I have picked that other damn spring roll?
Chapter Two
Arya
“How does this look?” I ask Mitchell as I step into the main living room of my apartment.
Mitchell squints his bloodshot eyes as he looks me up and down. He’s the resident stoner of the place and one of my five roommates. Yes, five roommates in a two-bedroom apartment. Living your dream doesn’t come cheap. Especially if you have to move to New York to pursue it.
“What’s this for again?” he asks with a perplexed expression on his face. “A funeral?”
“No, not a funeral! It’s a charity gala. A very exclusive one.”
“What are they charityizing?” Mitchell asks between puffs.
“I don’t know. Something rich people worry about. Baby turtles in the Galapagos or something like that.”
“Well, you look like you’re headed to a funeral.”
I look down at my black dress and cringe. Maybe I would fit in better at a cemetery than on a dance floor with this old thing.
Nolan is picking me up in two hours and I have nothing to wear. My closet isn’t exactly full of ballgowns for a fancy occasion like this. I haven’t socialized much more than hanging out at the pub since I arrived seven months ago.
My stomach is full of butterflies as I grab my phone and text Nolan with trembling fingers.
ARYA
Is this like a really formal gala?
NOLAN
Yes.
ARYA
What should I be wearing?
NOLAN
Dress.
I sigh as I toss my phone onto the couch. This guy is a pure delight. Nothing but one word abrupt answers after another. I’m getting the impression he wants to go to this thing as much as I do.
At least, I’m getting paid for it. A thousand dollars to spend an evening smiling, eating gourmet food, and clinging onto the arm of Brooke’s older brother. That will help with the insane NY rent and with my crippling student loan debts. Hopefully, if I charm Nolan well enough, this can become a regular thing. Apparently, he is a total workaholic who has no use for a girlfriend—Brooke’s words.
Speaking of Brooke, she was supposed to be here to help me get ready…
A couple of minutes later, she’s knocking on the door.
“Thank God you’re here,” I say as I let her in. She has a huge vinyl bag draped over her arm and a big grin on her face.
“Who died?” she asks with a cringing face as she looks me up and down.
“Told you!” Mitchell adds from the couch.
I guess my long black dress that covers my ankles and my cleavage is not a hit.
“What’s in there?” I ask, ignoring her question.
“This,” she says as she holds up the bag with a smile, “is your dress for tonight. Come. Let’s try it on.”
I share a room with two other girls, but
luckily, they’re both at work. I sleep on a small couch and they have the bunk beds. I know Brooke has a lot of money, but she’s gracious enough not to make any comments about my below-poverty-line living.
“Wait until you see this thing,” she says as she pulls down the long zipper. “It’s the latest Carolina Herrera. It’s not even out yet, but I pulled some strings and I got it for you!”
“It’s really red,” I say with a gulp.
“I know, right?” Brooke says with an excited smile. “Look at this!”
She pulls the dress out of the bag and looks thrilled as she holds it up. I feel a little weakness in my legs as she stares at me, waiting for me to say how stunning it is.
It is stunning, but it’s not really me. I’ve never worn anything like this before. It’s so incredibly red. Like red all over. I’ll look like a homing beacon in the middle of the gala. It’s the kind of dress that screams ‘look at me!’ and I’m the kind of girl who whispers ‘look the other way.’ I’m more of an introvert and even though I love to be the center of attention when I’m on stage and in character, in my real life, when I’m being myself, it’s a bit different. I’m more of a wallflower than a bright and shiny red rose.
“I can’t wear that.”
“Why not?!” Brooke says, looking disappointed. “You’re going to look like a knockout. With your brown hair, highlights, and that rack, you’re going to be the center of attention.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” I mutter.
“Well, you have to wear something and right now you look like you’re heading to your grandfather’s wake.”
Love At First Kiss (Love Comes First Book 1) Page 1
