A/N: Okay, so this is just a short prologue. I'm not sure exactly where I'm going with this yet, but I wanted to see what kind of reaction this got before I went any further.

"Can you stop watching baseball for two seconds and pay attention, David?" Emma drummed her fingers on the table as her brother continued to stare at the television screen behind her. They were supposed to be engaged in a business meeting, if you could call it that. Royalty Boxes was not doing as well as they thought and had yet to get it off the ground... hence the urgency and frustration in her tone.

When their appetizers came, it was time to resort to ulterior methods of getting his attention. As much as she hated the thought of wasting an onion ring, she picked it up and tossed it at him. When it hit him in the forehead, he flinched and finally looked to Emma, her green eyes glaring at him.

"What was that for?"

"Are you kidding me? I've been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. This is exactly why I didn't want to come here. Now, I can either keep throwing onion rings at you or you can help me figure out how we're going to get our business booming. And truthfully I'd prefer the latter because I'm actually quite starving."

"Okay, okay." David put his hands up in surrender. "I promise I'll keep my eyes off of the game."

"Thank you." Emma picked up another onion ring, this time taking a bite out of it.

"So what do we got?" David asked her.

With her free hand, she grabbed the spreadsheet she had made and handed it to him.

"Well, I crunched the numbers and it's worse than we thought. If we can't get ten more customers a week than we might as well throw in the towel."

David looked at the sheet thoughtfully. "And here I thought we had a pretty great idea."

"You mean I had a pretty great idea. I came up with it," she reminded him.

David rolled his eyes. "Yes, I remember quite well. You called and woke me at four in the morning, remember."

"Come on, you have to admit sending plastic totes with handles to people's doorstep rather than having them waste money on flimsy cardboard boxes was a brilliant idea."

"Didn't I just say it was a great idea. I think you're the one who needs to pay more attention," David said smugly as he took a swig of his beer.

Emma flashed him a sarcastic smile as she crossed her arms on the table. "Well, I still have yet to hear your bright idea, prince charming."

He frowned. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"And how many times have I told you that charming the ladies is not going to bring in business."

"Wow, you're still bringing that up. I flirted with a customer one time and I have to hear about it for weeks afterwards."

"It's bad business and very unprofessional," she told him sternly. "Mixing business and pleasure is always a bad idea."

David sighed. "She was cute and she referred another client to us.

Emma put her face in hands. "Why don't we just drop it and figure out what our next move is going to be?"

"I'm sorry, Emma. I just thought this was going to be so much easier."

"What, did you think owning a business was going to be smooth sailing?" she scoffed.

David flashed a thoughtful look at her words. "Wait, what did you say?"

"Really David? You have the attention span of a two-year old."

"No, I mean, Smooth Sailing." David said, pointing a finger at her. "That's our answer." David pulled out his phone and started fiddling with the buttons.

Emma arched an eyebrow in confusion. "What, you wanna go sailing? How would that help our business?"

"No, little sis, this is our answer."

David held out his phone with the screen pointed in her direction.

Emma still looked oblivious as she took it. Then she saw the blue, bold letters on the picture of a moving truck that read 'Smooth Sailing Moving.' Next to the truck were two smug-looking movers with the bluest eyes she's ever seen. She had to blink to snap out of her trance from the one on the left. "It's a moving truck, so what?" she mumbled with an annoyed expression as she tried to hand the phone back to him. He didn't take it.

"So what? Haven't you ever heard of them? These brothers started this business two years ago and it's very successful. You should look at the reviews on their website."

She sighed and faced the phone towards her again, minimizing the picture to browse their website. After scanning some of the reviews, she started reading them out loud.

"Great movers, got the job done quickly and efficiently."

"These guys are hard-working and did an excellent job. I will definitely be using them again."

"Called them the day before and they showed up early and was half the price of their competitors."

Emma rolled her eyes as she read one more. "These guys really made moving seem like smooth sailing." She put the phone on the table in front of him. "Okay, so they're good at moving, I don't see what that has to do with us."

"Emma, don't you get it? They have the clientele we need. If we can make them a business proposition and get referrals, both of our businesses would make the perfect team. We deliver the boxes. They move them. And we'll get the business we need to get off the ground."

"And what makes you think they would refer us to their loyal customers? They don't even know us."

"We just go to them and explain our business and show them why our boxes are better than cardboard and offer a percentage of our profits. Come on, Emma. It's a no-brainier."

Emma shook her head. "I don't think so. Why should we give them a share of our profit?"

"Because, sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the company. Don't you want to keep this business?"

"Of course I do, I'm the one who thought of it."

"Well then as a business woman, you need to think outside the box... pun intended," David said with a smirk.

Emma picked up the phone and looked at the reviews again, noting that each person gave the company five stars. Then she brought up the picture of the Jones brothers again. The one on the right looked kind enough, but it was the other one that concerned her. Dark, disheveled hair and stubbled jaw with that look that screamed of trouble. She didn't do well with smug, arrogant men and he definitely looked the type. But David was right, as usual. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She finally sighed in defeat. They were clearly good at their job, so really, how bad could it be?

"Fine. I'm in."