by Kat Catesby
“Work has kept me single,” I reply. It’s not a total lie but I’m not completely sure I won’t get the ‘till death do you part’ anti-divorce lecture if I tell him the truth.
“Find the time while you have the time, son. Life is too short,” said like the true retiree he’s about to become.
“It’s on my to-do list.”
Bill laughs and motions for me to follow him, introducing me to everyone he passes on the way to his office. It’s a big station with a lot of new faces to remember.
A few hours later and I have a pretty good overview of the station and its staff and I’m excited to get started in a few days.
Bill might be a little over-friendly but I’ve got some big, efficient shoes to fill, not that I’m daunted by the task.
“Why don’t you join us for lunch? Meet the rest of the guys.”
“Sounds good, thank you.”
The station setup is pretty simple: vehicles, equipment, storage, and gym are located on the ground floor; offices, sleeping quarters, kitchen, and communal areas located on the first floor.
As we leave Bill’s office, the smell of lunch assaults my senses and makes my stomach rumble.
“Cruz has made his enchiladas by the smell of it. He’s the youngest, graduated from the academy eighteen months ago. But the boy can cook. Keep on his good side and you’ll never go hungry.”
“Probably the most crucial piece of information to take away from today.”
“Undoubtedly,” Bill laughs.
We walk quietly into the communal area with the open plan kitchen where the topic of conversation is me. A couple of people are clustered in the kitchen, talking back and forth with someone sat on a sofa in front of a muted tv. The table is already set for lunch so I grab Bill gently by the arm to stop him walking any further; I’m curious to hear what the popular opinion of me is.
“Who takes a demotion from Fire Chief to Captain?” the tall guy on the sofa asks.
“Marcus West, one of your Lieutenants,” whispers Bill.
“Someone with one hell of a fuck up on their record,” answers the shorter but more muscled guy leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Gabe Mitchell,” whispers Bill again.
“Great. So, I was passed over for promotion by Colorado’s biggest firefighter fuck up. Perfect. Now I am calling sexism in the workplace,” fumes the tall woman with jet black hair standing next to the guy serving up food, who I’ll go ahead and assume is Cruz.
“That’s your other Lieutenant, Alana Sanchez. You should know that she was considered for the Captain position. She’s damn good at her job but she’s not happy about being passed over.”
I take a closer look at Sanchez. It’s not easy being a female firefighter; there are always pockets of society – and even other firefighters – who will doubt a woman’s strength and ability to do the job to the same standard as a man. Some female firefighters constantly feel the pressure to prove themselves, which isn’t necessary, in my opinion. If a person makes it through the rigors of the training academy, then I don’t give a shit what genitals are swinging (or not) between their legs.
Women like Sanchez sometimes feel an added burden to ensure people see them as more than just a beautiful face. Add in the fact that she was just passed over for a promotion and we’re not off to the greatest start.
The people you work in a firehouse with become your family; the brothers and sisters you live in close quarters with and stand side by side while risking your life to save others. We all need to trust one another and that’s not going to happen if they’re second-guessing my motives for taking the job in the first place.
Given the choice, I’d rather remain a relatively private person, but this situation calls for me to expose some of my emotional baggage. I believe leaders are better when their followers can see they are human, flaws and all.
“Wrong on all counts, I’m afraid,” I say loud enough to be heard by the whole room.
Cruz nearly drops his tray of enchiladas, Sanchez blushes bright red while Mitchell does a comical double-take.
“Apologies, Sir. We didn’t realize you were there,” says Marcus West.
“So if I wasn’t within earshot, you wouldn’t be sorry for talking about me behind my back?”
West opens his mouth, closes it without saying anything, and then tries again…only to repeat the gasping fish movement. I let him squirm for a few more seconds before smiling and waving the comment away.
“I’m fucking with you, West. It’s perfectly normal for you guys to talk about your new boss and have questions. Allow me to answer a few of them. I’m not a fuck up, at least, not as far as my employment record goes. I’m damn good at my job but the politics and paperwork that go with being a chief were starting to piss me off. Last time I checked, I was trained to fight fires and save lives, not argue with a Mayor over budgets and equipment.”
“I’m sorry for insinuating you were a fuck up, Sir,” says Mitchell sheepishly.
“No need to apologize. I said I wasn’t a fuck up at work; now, if you ask my ex-wife, I’m sure you’ll get an epic account of just how much of a useless fuck up I am. But please don’t ask her, we’ll all be sorry if you do. I moved across the country to escape the woman and my overbearing parents and so far, I’ve managed to do it without them knowing where I’ve gone. I’d like to keep it that way for a little longer. My circumstances mean that I’m able to take the hit of climbing down the career ladder instead of up, but I’ve reached a point in my life where I’d rather be happy than sat in some meaningless achievement bubble looking for all the world like my shit is squared away when it isn’t. I’m here for a fresh start and to do a job that I find fulfilling. Any other questions?”
Almost in unison, they shake their heads, but they look a little more relaxed than when I first started speaking.
“Let’s eat then,” says Bill as he walks towards the dining table, flashing me a small but perceptible nod of approval.
I make my way over to Sanchez and offer her my hand. She takes it and shakes it firmly, not that I expect anything less.
“I understand that you were also considered for the captaincy?”
“I was.”
“I also know the disappointment and adjustment of working with me will take time to process, I won’t be offended by that. If you want to launch an inquiry into any suspected gender bias during the interview process, please know that I fully support you. I’d like to think I earned my place based on merit, but if that’s not the case, I’d want to know.” I know there wasn’t anything untoward at play during the selection process but I’m willing to support my Lieutenant until she discovers that fact for herself.
“Thank you, Sir,” she gives me a small, professional smile and I take that as a good first step as I sit down and have my first of many meals with my new family.
Chapter Five
Kelsey
It’s been a couple of weeks since I lost my job and discovered that Mason severed all communication with me.
In that time, I’ve had exactly zero callbacks from the literal hundreds of resumes and letters of inquiry I’ve emailed to every employer I can think of. No one has the fucking decency to reply and tell me that the Foxes used their powerful leverage and they’re too scared to hire me.
Half of the town thinks I’m some slutty, homewrecking mistress and the other half are too afraid of the Foxes to even be seen with me in public, let alone defend me.
The almighty trio does far too much business in this town for their desires to ever be defied.
So if they want me fired, the Mayor will jump immediately (if only he was so quick to act on community issues), and if they don’t want anyone else to employ me, well, it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out that I remain jobless.
…And penniless.
The last reserves of my savings have run dangerously low and today is the day that my life hits what I fucking hope is the bottom of the pit of doom that has become my
reality. Because if there’s any further I can sink, shoot me now.
Heartbroken, unemployed, poor, and now homeless.
It seriously can’t get worse than this, right?
Today is the day I move in with Lucy because I can no longer afford my rent and Lucy being the best friend that she is, doesn’t want me blowing through the last little bit of money I have to my name and insisted I move in with her until I get back on my feet.
Fuck knows when that will be.
During the last few futile job-hunting weeks, I’ve successfully managed to hate Mason a little bit for leaving me to deal with this on my own. Yes, I know that Max has his contact information, but honestly, I don’t want to twist his arm into giving it to me. I shouldn’t have to do that. Mason shouldn’t have made it so that the only way I could contact him was by begging another human to take pity on me.
At this moment, I’m not even sure I’d talk to Mason if he showed up on Lucy’s doorstep (it would have to be hers because I don’t have one anymore).
Thanks again, Universe.
After a few hot, sweaty and exhausting hours of moving boxes and suitcases, I’m set up in Lucy’s spare room and facing the daunting task of making an apartment’s worth of possessions fit into just one room.
It’s a lovely sized room that we’ve been able to fit my bed, bookcase, and even my sofa into so that I have a sleeping and sitting area. The closet is big enough for my clothes and for me to store some of my random possessions that won’t fit on the bookcase.
All of the stuff from my old kitchen and any other random furniture that won’t fit in Lucy’s house has found its way into Max’s garage. He lives next door with his older brother Dixon and they’ve been kind enough to store my things so that I don’t have to pay for a storage company.
Max and Dix were also kind enough to help with moving my heavy furniture because movers are also expensive.
I take a break, flop onto my sofa, and open my laptop. Even though I know not to expect an email from Mason, my heart sinks every time I log in and see nothing from him.
Discarded.
That’s how I feel.
Like I have no value and I’m not even worth the time it takes to type a message.
Just as I’m about to log out of my email account, it chimes with an incoming message from my parents. It’s a brief but cheerful message with a few pictures of their latest adventures attached. They worked hard all their lives and are now enjoying their retirement by traveling the world. Currently, they are on a cruise of the South Pacific.
There was a five-minute period of time where I contemplated moving back into their house, but that felt even more depressing than moving in with my best friend because I’m a failure at life. I’ve not even told my parents that I lost my job, or that most of the town shun me like a leper, or that I’m running out of money. I don’t want to worry them while they’re away having the time of their lives as they deserve. I know they could give me some money to tide me over but I refuse to be a burden on them at this point in all our lives. And how awful would it be for them to come home and find me living there again, like a useless teen sucking them dry of their resources?
No. Living with Lucy is better for everyone. Not least because she can talk me off the gloomy ledge when the despair of my situation becomes too much. I’ll even put up with the sickening honeymoon stage of her and Max’s relationship as long as I have the comfort and support of my best friend daily.
Don’t get me wrong, I have a great relationship with my parents and we used to be close, especially as I’m an only child. But it’s hard to be close to people who haven’t been on the same continent as me for the best part of a year. Even harder when I’ve learned and changed so much as a person over that time and I wasn’t even allowed to tell them about the most pivotal relationship of my adult life.
Keeping Mason from them sucked and I wish I could say I was a bigger person and I understood completely why he made that decision, but I resented him for making me lie to them. I resented him for not letting me have a single person in the world to discuss my relationship with. No one I could decompress with or talk through my feelings impartially with. My world shifted and my heart was never the same and yet I had to stay silent.
Yeah, I think it’s safe to say I carry a lot of anger around on that front.
Lying to the people I hold dear for a man who didn’t stick around and didn’t have the decency to be a man and tell me he was severing all contact…
…I am pissed. And that’s putting it lightly.
What kind of asshole ghosts the woman he claimed to love? What level of mother fucker do you need to be to deny her the emotional support of her family and friends when she needs it most?
I needed them while I was dealing with Helen’s bullshit, even more so when Mason dumped me and I couldn’t tell people why I was so upset.
The more I think about it, the more I realize how much that man hurt me, repeatedly, and how little he deserves my love.
He should’ve been brave enough to trust my judgment. My parents wouldn’t have cared about the age gap. My mum is one of the most laid-back people I know and while my dad probably wouldn’t have become Mason’s new best friend, once he knew his little girl was being cared for by a man who loved her, he’d have been cool with it.
Yeah, my emotional situation was fucked before my life imploded a few weeks ago. Now? Now I’m directionless.
Adrift.
Honestly, without Lucy, there would be days I wouldn’t even get out of bed. Or if I did, I wouldn’t change out of my pajamas or wash my hair.
Life officially sucks.
* * *
I’m sitting in the living room a few hours later while Lucy cooks dinner from the kitchen. She has an open concept living space…meaning she can constantly look at me with her worried expression while she chops vegetables from the kitchen island. I pretend not to notice, but honestly, I’d be doing the same if our positions were reversed. It’s not like I’m making an effort to smile or even lie convincingly through my pain. I wear my heart and emotions on my sleeve; my fucked-up-ness is plain for all to see. And I’m too exhausted to try and hide it.
I hear voices coming from the porch outside; Max and Dix, who’ve spent the past few hours trying to fit the last of my crap into their garage, stomp up the porch steps and towards the front door. I am grateful to them for all their help, considering I only know Max a little and I know Dix even less. But they’ve stepped up and supported me in ways that remind me the human race isn’t completely overrun by assholes.
The door creaks open and in walk the two Cooper brothers. The pair of them are all tall, toned, dark-haired, and delicious looking. I can see the appeal – I’m a hot-blooded woman with needs and raging hormones after all – but the startling ice-blue eyes that both brothers sport, make me shudder as opposed to shiver. They are nice guys…it’s just eyes are a thing for me. They say so much and convey vast emotions, but the Cooper brothers have the impenetrable icy glare down to perfection so I find it hard to imagine being intimate with eyes like that staring at me.
Not that I’m into Max in the slightest. Dix is single but the man may as well have stoic and unapproachable tattooed on his forehead. Combined with the power of his stare and it’s enough to extinguish any fire building in my panties because of his hot body and secretive nice streak.
Entertaining thoughts of other men only happens in short reprieves for my heart: Mason is still tangled up in that vital organ so it’s only when I’m pissed at him that I can even notice the hotness of the guys around me.
Max takes off his ski jacket and looks at Lucy in the kitchen, his brow furrowing at whatever he’s seeing.
“Uh oh,” he says as Dix closes the door behind him.
“What?” asks Dix.
“I know that face. It’s the one that tells me I’ve fucked something up,” he smiles sheepishly at Lucy, who is indeed staring him down like an angry little kitten about to pounce.
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br /> “Give Kelsey Mason’s number. Now,” she demands before adding ‘please’ sweetly.
“I don’t want his number,” I interject with less conviction than I was aiming for but enough apathy to be convincing. “I’m sure Max told him what went down, so if the man doesn’t want to call me and check if I’m okay then like hell I’m calling him.”
“I didn’t tell him anything,” Max says while Dix groans and looks at his brother in despair.
“Why wouldn’t you tell him that his family was borderline assaulting my best friend?” Lucy breaks out the foot tap and Max has about two minutes before she rips his balls from his body.
“Mason asked me not to tell him anything that’s happening here. No exceptions. I assumed that meant everything family and Kelsey related. Sorry Kelsey,” he says to me.
“You assumed he wouldn’t want to know about the almighty pile of shit he’s left Kelsey to deal with? Seriously? There were two people in that relationship and he got to run away and have a fresh start while the nuclear fallout landed squarely on Kelsey. That’s not okay, Max.”
“When you put it that way –”
“You’re damn right, Max Cooper. How long did it take you and me to get together? Ten goddam years because you made assumptions about me that all turned out to be wrong. I think we’ll be ignoring your assumptions, especially when they affect the future of my best friend.”
Lucy stares down Max for a second before the tension is broken by Dix, who’s shaking with laughter.
“Damn, brother, she’s got you nailed. Best give her what she wants or you won’t be walking out of here with your dick intact,” he laughs.
Max rubs the bridge of his nose and groans.
“Your girl has a point,” Dix continues. “When Mason told you he didn’t want to know anything, I’m going to assume he meant fairly inconsequential small-town bullshit. Not the life-altering magnitude shit his family threw at Kelsey. He ought to know because, at the very least, he has a responsibility to handle his affairs. It’s not right for Kelsey to be dealing with it on her own. Sorry to talk about you like you aren’t here, Kels.”