Really? I just bet that’s what you were thinking.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she admitted.
“Why not, baby?” he asked over the crackle of the police radio. “I mean, haven’t we been at this dating thing long enough. Isn’t it time we hooked up?”
Exactly—hooked up! That’s not what I’m looking for. “Hooking up” is for teenagers. We’re supposed to be adults moving towards a meaningful relationship.
“I’m glad you think it’s time to … hook up,” Lena answered, clamping down on the rest of her thoughts.
He had obviously stepped away from the squad car because the radio in the background became harder for Lena to hear. “I think? What exactly are you saying?”
Lord, save me from stupid men. This guy has to be delusional if he really thinks he’s a great ‘catch.’ Why did I think this call was a good idea?
Lena shifted her position so she was sitting straight up. “Okay, let me break it down for you, your words on our first date. I’m looking for a woman that carries herself like a lady, makes time for me, and isn’t afraid to be real with a man,” she explained. “Isn’t that what you said?”
“Well, I—I—I, but—”
“Oh, and let’s not forget a great lover and honest either,” she countered. “So, what you’re saying to me now is that this—all your grandstanding—wasn’t really about getting into a meaningful relationship. This was all a ruse to get me into bed.”
“I mean eventually—yeah,” he protested, and his voice raised an octave.
“Then I’m so glad that you weren’t successful at getting to that part,” she shot back. “That’s why I told you that until you could devote more time and care into the relationship, only then could we take things to the next level. That’s why we’re still at the dating stage.”
“But I’m a grown man. I have needs,” he practically whined. “They’re important too.”
Lena gave a low, throaty chuckle. “Since you want to reduce these last six months down to what you deem as important, how about I clue you in again on what’s important to me and where your words and your actions haven’t quite lined up,” she said, now pacing the Oriental rug in front of the sofa.
“I needed you to be there for me after I lost my job. Yet somehow you got it in your head that being there for me was more about pushing for the physical part of this relationship to begin and not nurturing the emotional. I needed comfort, compassion, a connection, and—”
“What do I need to do all that for?” he growled, his tone caustic. “I don’t love you!”
Lena froze midway to the other side of the living room. Just like that, her world cart-wheeled once again. “Finally we agree on something. Because the feeling is mutual. Losing my number would be a beautiful thing.” She ended the call and tossed the cell on the sofa.
Today was not the day for tears. She would cry later when the rage was no longer blinding her.
She slumped down into the cushions, picked up one of the brochures scattered in the area right next to her. Work life—zero. Love life—negative ten.
“Time to make a change—all across the board,” she whispered to no one in particular.
Chapter 4
The four-alarm blaze had Steven seeing stars—and not the kind that he could make a wish on. The heat from the inferno felt like it was getting under his protective gear. The energy it took to combat the out-of-control fire storm, deal with hysterical citizens, and muster the sheer strength to direct the force of the water hose had exhausted him in ways he never imagined.
Many of his fellow fighters were also beyond tired. Like them, he was just coming off several stings of the worst fires they’d seen in a while when the call had come in for a structural fire. The blaze at an old mercantile factory on the city’s east side was threatening to spread to the surrounding neighborhood when Steven maneuvered his engine beside the five already there.
“This building’s been abandoned for years,” Steven said as his firehouse hurried to join the fray. “I smell insurance fraud.”
“Me too,” Tony said, leaping out of the engine with a giant wrench and tightening the hose to the only available hydrant left. “Something’s gotta be done.”
“This is the third factory to go up in smoke in the last six months,” Roger added as he yanked on a hose to move it, then signaled to two other men to hoist it up so they could get to the other side of the building.
Steven fell in step with the men. “When this is over, I’m going to sleep for a week.”
“Not me. The wife and I are getting the hell out of town for a few days,” Roger said, creating a space for Steven to stand next to him. “I need to be with my woman. I’ve seen more of y’all in the last month than I have of her, and believe me, she’s not happy about it.”
Both Steven and Tony laughed as they beat back the flames that were dangerously close to spreading to the next building.
“I just hope someone doesn’t light up another one of these on the night of the Fireman’s Ball,” Tony said.
“You would say that,” Steven shot back, gritting his teeth as the force of the spray jolted them. “Just another pool of women for you to misuse.”
“Ain’t nothing like coming home to a good woman—or three,” Tony winked.
“Stringing those women along is going to come back to bite you in the ass,” Steven warned. “Mark my words. ‘Miserable’ will be stamped on your forehead when they catch on.”
“I’ll worry about that when I have to. As for now, I’m gonna enjoy myself,” Tony declared. “At least I have options, Steve. I ain’t seen you on a date in months. When you gonna get in the game, my man?”
Steven angled the hose higher, toward the edge of the building’s rooftop, and released another powerful spray of water. “Unlike you, I don’t play games with women. I play for keeps.”
“Pffst,” Tony scoffed. “And that right there, my brother, is why you’ll be sleeping alone tonight.”
“Shut up, Tony,” Roger barked as he stomped past him with a fire axe.
Chapter 5
Eleven months later, the quaint locker room had finally started to feel like a second home. Lena scanned the mauve wallpaper, the cushioned athletic-styled benches, the aromatherapy candles lit and strategically placed around the room, and the lamps in the corners next to cloth-covered lounging chairs.
The space for the employees at Serenity Massage Center was simply ideal. A lot of thought went into its functionality. A major reason for that—which delighted Lena—was that SMC was designed and created with the employees’ well-being in mind, unlike Winley Institute. As the new owner of the massage center, Lena gifted her employees with consideration and respect. She had the space outfitted with everything she thought they might need to do a decent day’s work.
She’d spent many years in corporate America, where her thoughts and feelings were not taken into consideration. This was a mistake she would never make with her company. Her employees were valuable to her and to SMC. Acknowledging that in big ways and small was paramount to the growth and success of her business. And she had invested a large chunk of her savings to make it happen.
Lena couldn’t remember a time when she had genuinely enjoyed going to work. She had spent so many frustrating years being undervalued and underappreciated. This re-awakened sense of pride in a job well done was a welcome change.
“Ms. Striker,” Heather, the receptionist, piped in through the locker room’s intercom. “Your twelve-thirty client is here.”
“On my way.” Lena closed and secured her locker, then walked over to the mirror to check her appearance. I look pretty today. Even in her simple uniform, she felt good. It was a far cry from the stuffy business suits she used to wear.
As she walked down the hallway, she passed one of the spa’s signature Serenity rooms with its calming waterfall sounds, a steam room enveloped in eucalyptus and lemon scents, and doors leading to the private massage rooms. Lena kept her
schedule open only for certain special clients—Giselle was one of them.
Giselle had played a crucial role in helping Lena seal the deal on SMC. They had met at the Cortiva Institute where Lena was completing her licensing credentials. The Institute offered discounts to people willing to see students for their spa treatments. Giselle frequently took advantage of those discounts. She and Lena had become friendly. One day, they had a conversation about Lena’s goals after school, which led Giselle to suggest that Lena branch out and actually buy into a massage center franchise. The rest, as they say, was herstory.
“Lena,” Giselle said, moving from her spot in the lounger. “I hope I’m not too early.”
“You’re fine.” Lena gave her friend a welcoming hug and escorted her into a private suite. The massage room was dimly lit and filled with vanilla and sandalwood scented candles. Calming music floated in the air. The massage table in the center of the room was covered with pristine white Egyptian cotton bedding and gently heated with pancake-sized hot rocks.
Lena slipped on a pair of mittens and moved the stones to their heating cradle. “What are we doing today?”
“Darling, everything,” Giselle purred. “I hurt all over.”
“You say that every time.” Lena pulled back the warmed sheets on the massage table. “You know the drill. I’ll be back in five, and we’ll get started.”
She excused herself and gathered up a few more of the oils that Giselle was partial to.
When she returned and started the usual kneading and rubbing, Giselle moaned, “Oh God. That feels soooooo good.”
“It’s been a minute for you,” Lena said with laughter in her voice.
Giselle sighed blissfully. “That’s why I’m so tense. My schedule’s been insane lately.”
“I don’t miss those days,” Lena mused. “Long hours, company politics, back-stabbing bosses.”
This time it was Giselle’s turn to laugh. “You have intimate knowledge, I see.”
Lena leaned in, kneading her client’s lower back. When she hissed, Lena said, “Blow out, Giselle. Remember what I told you. When someone’s applying pressure to your muscles, always breathe out. It helps to relieve the tightness.”
She complied and Lena expertly untangled the tight knots in the left side of the woman’s lower back.
“There we go. Much better. And yes, I used to work in corporate America. When I got canned, I took a step back and decided that I wanted to do something that makes people feel good.”
“I, for one, love your new career choice,” Giselle crooned, lifting her arm so Lena could focus on the muscles in her upper and lower arm. “What did your husband think about your new business venture?”
Lena paused and almost didn’t answer. This was the first time Giselle had asked anything about her private life. Feeling slightly thrown by the question she replied, “Not married, no children. That’s another reason why I felt it was time for a change. So many of my colleagues sat in quiet misery just to have a steady paycheck to support their families.” She added a little more oil to Giselle’s muscle. “Sometimes I wonder how I did it for so long.”
A comfortable span of silence passed between them as Lena continued the massage. When Giselle turned onto her back, she asked, “Are you dating?”
“God, no,” Lena said, cringing at the memory of Officer Not-So-Friendly. “Too busy running this place. Besides, the last guy I dated was the King Kong of jerks. Lord, save me from men who wear a uniform. They feel like they’re entitled to everything.”
Giselle burst out laughing. “Well, let’s hope things improve for you soon.”
“From your lips, as they say.”
The massage ended, and Lena waited outside the door while Giselle changed. Minutes later, Lena held out a small paper cup of lemon water to refresh her client, before ushering Giselle back to the reception area.
“As you know,” Giselle said. “I work in marketing and promotions, which is code for ‘spinning reality in a positive light.’”
“Yes, I know all about spinning, but mostly from the opposite end.”
“Anyway,” Giselle said, chuckling. “I was invited to the annual Firefighter’s Ball this year. My firm wants to bring more exposure to the tireless work of these courageous men and women.” She paused, tilting her head up at Lena. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in going as my plus one.”
“I’d be honored. Thank you,” she replied. “Besides, it will probably be a great place to generate some new clients and referrals for the massage center.” She leaned in and embraced Giselle.
“Clients, yes,” Giselle whispered, giving her a conspirator’s smile. “And find you a man.”
“Giselle!” Lena gasped.
Her friend winked and departed.
Chapter 6
Two weeks later, Lena stood at the top of the staircase leading into the South Shore Cultural Center, enjoying the panoramic view of its opulence. Fresh flowers, spread throughout the facility, made the entire place smell incredible. The venue was the epitome of turn-of-the-century elegance.
As she surrendered her wrap to the attendant, a gentle tap on her shoulder made her focus on the woman to her right. “Giselle,” she said. “You’re not half stepping in that outfit.”
Giselle did a quick turn, giving Lena a full view of the gown that draped her slender frame. “I thought flame red was more than appropriate for an event for firefighters.” She twirled her finger. “You look like an angel.” Giselle lifted Lena’s arms and inspected the pearl ball gown, then the rest of her from head to toe. “You’re rocking the hell out of that gown, and I’m loving the new haircut.”
Lena took her coat ticket from the attendant, feeling the warmth spread to her cheeks. “I’m feeling a lot like Cinderella. It’s not every day I get to attend a ball.”
In the lobby, they mingled with other notable guests. All the major political figures of the city were in attendance—the mayor, the chief of police, the fire chief, too many city council members to count, and of course, droves of handsome firefighters.
As she made her way to the main ball room she wondered who was left to man the firehouses, since there seemed to be hundreds of men representing fire stations from every corner of the city and a few suburbs. She and Giselle angled toward their assigned table, along with the rest of the colorful crowd.
Lena set her napkin in her lap as Giselle said, “I have to inform my boss that we have to do this again next year.”
“It is a glamorous turnout,” Lena responded.
“And men aplenty,” Giselle purred as she took a sip of water.
Lena gave her a sideways glance. “There are also countless women here—most, I bet, are the wives of those men. Pretty much everything in here is ‘private property.’”
She followed Giselle’s gaze as she scanned the sea of faces in the room.
“There’s just something about a man in uniform, mmm,” Giselle moaned. “The way it drapes over their bodies, giving them an air of strength, confidence, and sex-o-licious appeal.”
“But there’s always a downside to that appeal.” She scanned the area. “And I don’t know why you’re getting all worked up. None of them are wearing uniforms tonight.”
Giselle stopped goggling for a moment and fixed her eyes squarely on Lena.
“My past experiences with men like these have been less than stellar. Take your pick—too rough, too demanding, too selfish. A man in uniform—and sometimes when he’s out of it—is nothing but bad news. No, thank you.”
Giselle shook her head with a smirk. “What am I going to do with you?”
Lena lifted her chin. “I’m here to enjoy the ball and focus on life, not on the pursuit of a man—especially one in a uniform.”
Over the next few hours, while dinner was served by a wave of red uniformed waiters and waitresses, multiple speakers took the podium and gave thanks to the men and women of the fire department.
“My boss is waving me over,” Giselle annou
nced, her gaze focused on a silver haired man with piercing raven eyes. “I need to work the room before they start the music and dancing.” She looked down at Lena and asked, “You’re going to be okay here for a minute?”
“After that dessert, you’d better pray I don’t fall asleep,” Lena moaned. “My God, that fluffy thing was better than good sex.” Then her eyebrows drew in. “As if I’ve had any of that lately.”
“The night is still young, girl,” Giselle teased. “Get the blood pumping and circulate the room. Hell, go up to one of these fine firefighters and ask him to dance. ‘Cause honey, as beautiful as you look tonight, not even the married ones could find the will to say no to you.”
Giselle blended seamlessly into the crowd and disappeared.
Finding a man was the last thing Lena had on her mind. She could have just as easily cuddled up with a good book and a cold glass of wine and been perfectly content.
Little pockets of stylishly dressed attendees were having lively discussions all around her about politics, vacations plans, their worrisome careers, and their kids going off to college. Although it was all entertaining, she was fighting to stay awake. She could hardly move once that last course was finished. Lena had put in a twelve-hour workday today because a new therapist had to leave early for a family emergency and Lena had covered her last two clients.
She scanned the room, taking in the mulling crowd, the photographers capturing images of the night, and the staff clearing the tables. One man, striking and intense, who stood with two equally handsome men, demanded her attention. She was sure he was the type that would have had many women in the room selling their ovaries on eBay to get him to notice them.
Their gazes connected a few times, but the conversation around him kept drawing his attention away from Lena. And that was just as well.
She could sit there and people watch all night. But maybe Giselle was right. She had done what it took to become happier in her career. Maybe she needed a different outlook on finding the man of her dreams. She was lucky enough to be attending the most coveted ball of the year. It was raining men. Why should Lena keep her umbrella up to avoid getting wet?
Signed, Sealed, Delivered ... I'm Yours Page 18