by Brandy Ayers
“Oh, okay. That makes sense.” She stood behind him as he finished dressing, unsure what to do.
Neither spoke, the silence filled with so many questions it felt as if the unspoken words physically pushed them further apart. For more than forty-eight hours, they'd been inseparable. Could she have been crowding him without knowing? Did he need a break from her? What was he hiding? Who had been on the phone? Those and a million other questions tickled the tip of her tongue.
The only one to make it past her teeth was the simplest. Or so she thought. “When can we be together again? I'm on the overnight shift for two more weeks, then I'll start my new hours.”
Trey paused for a moment, every muscle in his back twitching before he relaxed again and slid his shirt back on. “I don’t know, Char. The house is going to be busy for a while since we’ll be short staffed.”
Embarrassment burned behind Charlotte’s eyes, threatening to turn into tears. But she clamped her teeth down, willing the unwelcome emotions back.
“Okay.”
“Maybe we should just take some time the next couple weeks. You’ll be transitioning to the new position. I’ll be trying to hold the firehouse together. It will be a lot.” Trey turned to her, but kept his gaze trained on the floor, seeming to look for something. Charlotte realized it must be his boots and crossed the room to pull them from under the bed where Weasley had drug them the night before. The laces were frayed slightly at the end. The cat’s revenge for taking his spot on the bed. Taking them from her hand, Trey finally made eye contact, but all the warmth and affection Charlotte had grown used to in their short time together was now shuttered. “We’ll keep in touch. Check in with each other, but let’s not make hard plans, okay?”
Charlotte waited a beat. Then another. Hoping he would add something else. Something along the lines of he would miss her or despite their busy careers he wanted to make her a priority in his life. Neither came.
“Okay.”
If Trey noticed she hadn’t said more than that simple world in the past few minutes, he didn’t show it. Instead, he crossed the room, laid a gentle kiss on her forehead, which sent her traitorous heart speeding inside her chest. “This weekend, it’s been everything, sugar. I could never forget the past few days. And I know it will be all I think about.” One more kiss pressed to her forehead, then he turned and left through the front door. His boots were still clutched in one hand.
***
“Okay, first thing you need to know, is where the scanners for the different zones are.” Charlotte leaned over the desk, pointing out each of the radios which squawked and buzzed with activity even at midnight. She went down the line slapping a label on each radio with what areas of the city the they were tuned to. As she went, she explained the importance of each area to Kennedy, the former production assistant that would be taking over her role as overnight assignment editor in just a few days time. “This is the radio for most of zone seven, there are some outer edges of that area that we don’t get too clearly, but the manager at that communications center is pretty responsive to calls for information, so don’t be afraid to ring her if you have a question about something.”
Just the mention of Trey’s territory squeezed her lungs and heart to the point of pain. It had been four days since he walked from her apartment without even a backward glance. She hadn’t heard a single word from him. Complete and total radio silence, despite Charlotte having texted twice. And called once.
But training her successor was a great distraction, and she focused back in on the task at hand. The truth was, her job wasn’t terribly complicated. Most nights were quiet, you made a few phones calls, searched social media for story ideas, made sure the overnight photographer was kept busy, added any late breaking news to the assignment rundown for the next day, and that was about it.
Maybe her mom was right. Maybe she was a glorified secretary.
Well, that all was about to change. Each time Charlotte thought about her new position and the challenges to come with it, her brain ran at double speed with ideas on how to increase reporter’s efficiency, on how to make new connections with important contacts, or stories they should investigate.
Including the arsonist. The fire department finally came out and admitted they had a potentially dangerous criminal setting fires around the city, and the rest of the stations had spent the better part of the week trying to play catch up to what WQUZ had already reported the week before.
But aside from the updates on the injured firefighters and the arson rulings, the fire bug had been quiet. No new fires in a week. Some intuition inside Charlotte told her something big was on the horizon though. An unsettling in her gut that she knew was somehow connected to the story she had so relentlessly been pursuing. Because it made her feel closer to Trey.
After walking Kennedy through rounds calls, and letting him take the lead on the last calls of the shift, Charlotte gathered her things and headed out. On time for once.
“Hey, Char, wait up!” Bekah came jogging over in dangerously high heels, a huge smile on her face and an equally huge cup of coffee in her hands. “How’s it hanging?”
“Okay, just heading home for some shut eye. What are you doing here so early?”
The biggest yawn Charlotte had ever witnessed ripped from her friend’s mouth, making them both giggle.
“I had a meeting this morning to pitch the powers that be my traveling doctors story. I had one of the docs tag along to better help illustrate what the story would look like. We had to do it at this insane hour to accommodate his surgery schedule.”
“And? How’d it go?” They reached Charlotte’s car, and both leaned their backs against the sun-warmed metal.
“Awesome. They agreed to let me do the story.” Bekah took a healthy swallow from her coffee before continuing. “It will take a few months to get everything in place. But the hospital is going to sponsor the entire series. They’re paying for my airfare and everything.”
“Holy shit, that is amazing.” Charlotte bumped her shoulder to Bekah’s giving her what felt like the first genuine smile she’d managed in days.
In a rare show of humility, Bekah kept her stare glued to the pavement under their feet, her teeth biting back a grin. “We’re friends, right? I can tell you a secret?”
The question knocked Charlotte off her axis. Were they friends? Since the sleep over, Bekah had made it a habit of sitting at the assignment desk after her shift and chatting with Charlotte. They’d texted back and forth a few times. Charlotte hadn’t put too much thought into all that. It just happened. But she realized that yes, Bekah had set out to win Charlotte’s friendship, and it had worked. “Yeah, we’re friends. I can keep a secret.”
“I’m not just going down there for the story. I’m also going to try and find out about my birthparents.” Finally tearing her eyes away from the ground, she swung her gaze to Charlotte. The fear and sadness lying behind her dark brown eyes was completely uncharacteristic of the normally bubbly reporter. “I was adopted from an orphanage there when I was four. My parents are amazing, and I love them, but they wouldn’t understand why I feel the need to do this, to find out about my heritage. You’re the first person I’ve told.”
“Wow. That’s heavy.” They both stood silent for a moment. Nearby stray cats ambled through the gated parking lot, completely unconcerned with their presence. Suddenly, Charlotte didn’t care about going home and crawling back into bed. She wanted to talk with her friend. Find more out about the relentless woman that had refused to let Charlotte continue to hide behind her shyness. Tell that same friend about what had been going on with Trey and his radio silence. “I know you’re already holding a cup of coffee, but want to go get more? Have breakfast?”
Bekah’s eyes lit up like the sky during a fireworks show. “Yes. I’ve been dying to get this stuff off my chest. And I want to hear all about you and your man of course.”
“Yeah, this is going to be a long meal then.”
Both jumping in their cars, Ch
arlotte and Bekah headed to the local artisanal donut shop. Once they had about a week’s worth of calories sitting in a box before them, they dug into all the details about what had happened with Trey.
“So, let me get this straight.” Bekah took a huge bite of her salted caramel donut before continuing. “Dude like hard core pursued you for weeks. Jumped through all your hoops for that first date. Went super slow for you…”
“Um, waiting for the second date is not super slow.”
“Pfft, yes, it is. Then after three days of the most amazing sex ever, plus taking your virginity, he totally ghosts you?”
Charlotte’s shoulders slumped down and she nodded slowly. Even the half a strawberries and cream donut she shoved in her mouth couldn’t raise her spirits.
“Something’s not right there. Unless he is a total cherry chaser, no guy goes through that much work to just up and walk away.” Bekah spotted a guy in the corner who had been watching her and sent him a wink before refocusing on Charlotte.
“What is a cherry chaser?”
“Guys who only have sex with virgins.”
“Ew.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t sound like what Trey was doing. If he were a cherry chaser he would have up and left as soon as your virgin blood dried on his cock.”
“Oh my God, Bekah, you can’t say that in public.” Blood raced to Charlotte’s cheeks and she whipped her head around looking to make sure no one overheard their conversation.
Simultaneously shrugging and taking a sip of her coffee, Bekah plowed on like she hadn’t just said the most disgusting-slash-embarrassing thing ever.
“Point is, something else is up with him. Maybe another woman? You said he was arguing with a woman on the phone.”
“More like pleading with than arguing. And he said it was a family member.”
“Hmmmm. We are going to have to investigate this.”
Eyes widening in horror, Charlotte leaned across the table. “What? No. We aren’t Nancy Drew wannabes, and I am not violating my—I don’t know what he is to me other than the guy who took my V-card, but we’re not violating his privacy like that.”
“It’s not like I want to go sniffing around his underwear drawer.” Bekah set her coffee down and leaned back in her chair. “Just a little light espionage. Follow him one night. Maybe look through his trash. Oh, I think Michelle has a Private Investigator on retainer or something, we could ask to use him.”
“No. Hard no.”
Bekah pouted and chugged the rest of her coffee. “You’re no fun.”
“Trust me, I’m okay with that.”
Chapter Nineteen
Working in journalism means there is no such thing as holidays, snow days, or really personal time. When news happens, you go. That doesn’t just apply to reporters and producers. It means everyone right down to the engineers that keep everything running. And Charlotte.
Weeks had gone by with daily calls placed to the fire chief and arson investigator, asking them for updates on their case. All met with silence. Charlotte was starting to give up on ever making progress on the story, just like she had given up on Trey who she hadn’t talked to in three weeks. It was her last week on the evening shift, her replacement totally trained and ready to go.
Honestly, she was bored as hell at night now, because he did all the work, and she just sat there in case something major happened and he needed help. The new promotion called to her. She had so many ideas to revolutionize the way the newsroom and their assignments ran, she couldn’t wait to get started. Even if the idea of standing in front of everyone and doling out marching orders did still make her stomach feel as if she’d had three-day old sushi.
Just as her alarm blared telling it was time to get up, the ring tone indicating her boss cut off the alarm.
“Hello.”
Michelle’s no-nonsense voice filled her still half-asleep head, snapping her a little more to attention. “Charlotte, the mayor and fire marshal have called a press conference. We’re pretty sure it is going to be able about the arson investigation. It is at city all in an hour, can you meet Bekah there?”
Already jumping from bed, Charlotte grabbed the first work worthy clothes she saw and headed for the bathroom. “Sure I can, but why? Wouldn’t it be better if I were in the newsroom managing assignments?”
“Annabel and I have that covered for now. I want you at the press conference because you have the most knowledge on the investigation. I would send Mira, but she has our top story tonight, and I can’t redirect her this late in the day.” In the background the usual buzzing of the newsroom increased in volume, signaling Michelle had left her office. “Just make sure Bekah is asking all the right questions, seeing all the angles. Then as soon as her and her photog are set, head back to the station.”
After exchanging a few more details, they both hung up, and Charlotte hopped into the shower to take the world’s fastest shower. With no time to dry and style her hair, she threw it into a high ponytail and called it a day. No time to think about her outfit, she simply threw the dress on, slipped into her wedge heels that Bekah and Mira had insisted she buy on one of their increasingly frequent girls outings, and flew out the door.
She arrived at city hall just in time, slightly out of breath from having to park three blocks away and run to make it in time. Bekah sat in the third row, right in the middle of the pool of journalists, though she had saved a seat next to her for Charlotte.
Cheeks red with a mixture of her run to make it on time, and embarrassment at having to climb over a row of reporters she watched everyday on other stations, Charlotte eased into her chair next to Bekah. “Hey, sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
“No worries. I only just got here too.”
“How’d you get such good seats?”
“One of the mayor’s press assistants has been hitting on me for a year. I promised to give her a shot if she saved us two prime seats.” Bekah says all this like it is no big deal, just another of her admirers doing her a favor. It really did never cease to amaze Charlotte how the woman wore her confidence and sexuality out there for everyone to see. “By the way, you look amazing. That dress and those shoes are killer. As I knew they would be.”
“Yeah, they almost killed me on the five-block jog to get here. But thanks. I should have worn pants. I feel like everyone is looking at my bare legs and judging me.”
“Nonsense. No one is looking at your legs.” Bekah tipped her head toward one side of the room. “Well no one but that hunky fireman over there against the wall.
With a glance to the spot Bekah had indicated, Charlotte’s face lost all feeling, her fingers and toes tingling with shock. Trey. It was the first time she’d seen him since the ghosting of the century took place. She hated that he still brought on a reaction not only between her thighs, but also deep in her chest. A pinch that hurt more than she wanted to admit.
Trey looked as amazing as always, but something in his eyes was off. A sadness that she’d only seen glimpses of during their short time dating. She beat down the intense desire to cross the room and comfort him. He didn’t deserve her comfort.
Weeks of second guessing every move she had made with the muscled fireman had left her resolved to never get involved with a man again. Weasley and her newfound friendships were all she needed. Bekah had even convinced her to order a sex toy from the Lelo website. It cost more than she paid on groceries in one week, but Bekah insisted it was a staple every girl needed in her bedroom. Charlotte hadn’t even brought herself to take it out of the box yet.
“That’s Trey.”
Bekah squealed, then leaned over to grasp Charlotte’s hand. “Oh my God, that is the guy you lost your virginity to? Holy hell, you go girl! He is a double scoop of yum, and obviously regretting not calling you. Dude is trying to incinerate your panties with his eyes.”
Charlotte scoffed, the notion that he regretted anything other then bedding a pathetic twenty-something virgin too absurd to warrant a response.
Thankfully, she didn’t need to say anything else, because the mayor and arson investigator took the stage at that moment to get the press conference underway. Much of what they had to say everyone in the room already knew. A map was projected onto a screen laying out all the fires they suspected to be the work of the arsonist. Eighteen fires altogether ranging from small trashcan fires to the row homes and the cat house fire. There were no suspects yet, but they gave a loose profile of the typical arsonist; a male in his twenties, from a chaotic family environment, intelligent, but uneducated, and most likely unemployed. Well that narrowed things down.
They suspected the arsonist lived in zone seven, but the arson sites were too spread out to determine a more specific radius than that. They also showed surveillance photos of a dark colored 2010 Honda Civic, but no plates were displayed.
Charlotte worked to keep her eyes on the podium, not the man still staring at her from the side of the room. Trey didn’t divert his attention during the entire half hour presentation. Unfortunately, Charlotte’s eyes wandered to him more times than she found acceptable. Not once did he smile, even when she gave him a curt nod and smile in acknowledgement.
Finally, the press conference came to the part where the reporters could ask questions. Hands flew up all around them and the mayor picked reporters one by one. The third question went to Bekah, who asked what they made of the long period of silence since the last fire.
“It isn’t unusual to have a cooling off period between fires with a serial arsonist like this.” The fire marshal leaned into the microphone at the podium, taking the answer for the mayor. “The cat house fire, as we are calling it, may not have been the biggest fire in damage, but there were injuries involved, which means higher stakes. We expect the arsonist waiting for things to calm down again before striking again.”
More hands went up around them, and more questions answered, most of them completely unnecessary. In the corner of her eye, Charlotte saw a shift in light. Her eyes swung that direction to see Trey stand to his full height, stepping away from the wall. His eyes still stubbornly stuck on her, only now they locked onto her outstretched hand. When had she raised her hand to ask a question?