“He is pretty cute, huh?”
“Yeah, but he’s got eyes for only you.” She shrugged and looked up at me. “How long have you been together?”
“Together?” My head snapped up, eyebrows rising in surprise. “Oh. No. We’re not together. We’ve never been...together.”
“Really.” It wasn’t a question.
“Really,” I said firmly. “He’s my boss, actually.”
“I’m no expert or anything,” Abby said with a shrug. “But I’ve been known to be a matchmaker. He doesn’t look at you like a boss looks at an employee.”
“He’s a nice guy is all.” I knew my face was growing red, and I knew damn well that Abby noticed, but now wasn’t the time to be unprofessional.
“You’re probably right,” Abby said. “I bet he looks at all his employees like that.” She smiled at me again, that self-assured smirk growing on her lips.
“Let it go, Abs,” Logan said somewhere over my shoulder. “You’re freaking her out.”
I cleared my throat and removed the oximeter from her finger, unable to think of a quick enough comeback before Tate came up behind me with the stretcher. I started to stand up, and Tate’s hand shot out to offer his help. I stole a quick glance at Abby, who rolled her eyes, but the knowing smirk still played on her lips.
“I’m good,” I muttered, ignoring Tate’s hand. Whatever his issue had been earlier, it seemed as though he’d already cooled down.
On the way back to the station after dropping Abby off at the hospital for observation, Tate finally spoke.
“I’m sorry I yelled earlier,” he said. He didn’t look at me, merely kept his eyes pinned straight ahead.
“I guess I deserved it.” A part of me knew that was true. I’d made it clear from the beginning I wanted him and the rest of the crew to treat me just as they did each other, even if that meant getting reamed for breaking the rules.
“The doctor said that much longer alone in there, Kyle could have died,” Tate said. “You may have truly saved his life.”
“Yeah, well, it’s all part of the job description, right?” I climbed out of the ambulance when we got back to the station, trying not to overthink Abby’s little comments. I hadn’t been looking at Tate during the run, and I’d only assumed he hadn’t been looking at me, either. What exactly had she seen between us?
Kyle greeted us at the door, nodding slightly in my direction. “We need you in the kitchen,” he said. “It’s urgent.”
Urgency in this job was never a good thing. I shot a quick glance over my shoulder at Tate who looked equally confused and followed Kyle into the kitchen.
Stood around the table were half my crew; some guys were missing, including Tanner Rey, but most them were there. Sat in the middle of the table was an enormous orange and red frosted cake decorated with the words: We’re Glad You’re Still Alive
“It’s not much.” Kyle shrugged. “But there’s cake.”
“Holy shit,” I said, and some of the guys laughed. I looked over my shoulder at Tate, wondering if he’d planned all this, but his eyes were open wide as he took in the scene. “Thanks guys.” I looked around the room. “I thought you were all still mad at me.”
“You went into a burning building to save this jackass,” Porter said, taking my jacket from me. “That’s the kind of thing a true fireman does to save his family.”
“Firewoman,” I corrected, and Kyle rolled his eyes. “And I just hope that you’d all do the same for me.”
“Let’s not get too cocky,” Kyle said, but then a ghost of a smile flitted across his lips.
“I baked the cake,” Finn cut in. He looked mighty proud of himself until Kyle scoffed loudly.
“Then you dropped it on the floor. That’s why it’s sunken down in the middle.”
“Don’t expect a cake for everything you do right,” Kyle said stiffly, as one of the guys cut into it. “You’ve still got plenty of time to screw up.”
I looked around at my crew and for the very first time since I’d known them, I had a deep sense of belonging settle inside me. I just might, after all, finally fit in.
Chapter 21
Tate
“Mayor Jensen. Hello, we weren’t expecting you.” I stood so fast from the table the next morning that coffee sloshed from my mug down my shirt, burning the skin underneath. I winced and grabbed a paper towel to sop up the mess. Mayor Jensen walked through the door, his hand out for me to shake. He was smiling, but behind that smile was a steely glint.
“No worries, Mr. Becker, I didn’t let anyone know I was coming.” He dropped his hand to his side and looked around the room, as if searching for something or someone. “Where is everybody?” he asked.
“They’re upstairs still. Engine One had a call at about four this morning. They’re catching up on some much-needed rest.”
“I see.” Mayor Jensen nodded his head once, eyes still skimming the station. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to say. I was in no way prepared for his arrival, and all I could do was stand there until he announced the reason for his visit.
“I heard about the call your crew went on the other day,” he said finally, his balding head catching the light from the ceiling.
“Please, have a seat.” I signaled to the table and Mayor Jensen sat down heavily in one of the wooden chairs, folding his hands on the table top in front of him.
“The girl, Hallie Harper, she came back to work?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, feigning a smile. I was glad Hallie was still upstairs, because being called ‘the girl’ by the mayor of all people would probably be grounds for a throat punch.
“I see,” Mayor Jensen said. He looked around again, seeming slightly uncomfortable. “Were you expecting her to?”
“I...I’m not sure how to answer that, Mayor. She was merely doing her job, it was up to her whether she could take the heat, no pun intended, and come back to work to continue.”
Silence settled over the table. Upstairs, I heard the water in the shower room turn on, alerting us that the crew was waking up. Mayor Jensen looked back at me.
“Does she shower with them, too?”
“The stalls are draped off from each other,” I said. “She doesn’t walk around up there undressed.”
“Would your men appreciate it if she did?”
His comment was so farfetched that I almost had to have him repeat himself. There was no way he said that. Did he?
“I don’t understand the question.”
“Do you trust your men to leave her be, or has there been...excitement... since she’s been here?”
“Excitement?” I forced a small laugh, feeling anything but amused. “The most exciting thing to happen around here between Hallie and my men, is the cake they made her last night for saving the life of one of our own. What she did on scene the other day was noble. She did exactly what any true firefighter would do to help family.”
“I see,” Mayor Jensen said, but I had a feeling he didn’t.
“Can I ask what this is about?” Annoyance rippled under my skin as I sat under his scrutiny. Mayor Jensen had always been an outspoken man of Christian values and conservative beliefs, and it was no secret he didn’t look kindly upon Hallie’s acceptance onto the crew. However, I’d assumed that once the details had been set in stone, he’d move on from his grudge and focus on more important things than a female firefighter.
“I’m getting concerned phone calls to my office,” the mayor said, clearing his throat. “Men in this town are still making complaints about her city employment.”
“What kind of complaints?” I asked. “Jealousy because she’s doing a job that they can’t do?”
“Of course not, Mr. Becker,” Mayor Jensen said. “I think the main concern lies with Ms. Harper’s liability to eventually sue our city for some false sexual harassment case.”
“You’re kidding.” I leaned back in the chair, trying to comprehend the wild ideas coming from Mayor Jensen’s mou
th.
“I wish I was,” he said. “But I’m not.” He leaned forward, hands still clasped in front of him and lowered his voice a bit. “But can you really blame them? One female on an entire crew of males; that’s a sexual harassment case waiting to happen.”
“I don’t mean to be blunt here, Mayor, but do you have any idea what you’re saying?”
“I’ve seen it before, Mr. Becker,” he said, brushing me off like a piece of lint. “I’ve seen entire departments go down because of a single claim. These women, you see, they become power hungry...even bitter over a bad day at work. Maybe she gets one wrong look from a fellow employee. Or someone pisses her off. That’s all she needs, you know, a simple accusation, and she’ll bring this department down in flames.”
We stared at each other for a moment, the mayor and me, as I tried to sort through his words. I couldn’t believe I was hearing this. He didn’t even know Hallie, yet he was accusing her of being a traitor. She’d been on our crew for less than three weeks, and he was still rolling this around as some socially-justified feminist problem.
“I’m sorry you’re getting complaints, Mayor, but there’s nothing I can do to help you. Hallie does her job and she does it well. I don’t believe for a second she’d cry false claims about her crew. If you do, you should reevaluate who you listen to, and who you don’t.”
Just then, Jake Finn came down the stairs, his hair still damp from the shower, the freckles on his face prominent against the kitchen lights.
“Morning, Cap,” he said. His eyes landed on the mayor, and an expression of surprise came over him, but it was gone as quickly as came. “Mayor Jensen,” he said, offering his hand awkwardly. “My name’s Jake Finn, I’m a new recruit.”
“Jake,” the mayor said. “Welcome to Station One.” Looking awestruck, Jake shook the Mayor’s hand and then turned away, ears burning red with giddy embarrassment. Mayor Jensen turned back to me. “It was good to see you again, Tate. Thank you for speaking with me.”
“Anytime,” I replied. “But next time, please let me know if you plan to drop in. Maybe your concerns about how we do things here would be best directed at our chief, Preston Davis.”
“Indeed,” the mayor said. With a curt nod, he buttoned up his jacket and made a sweeping exit, leaving me and Finn staring after him.
“Is it just me, or did I walk in on something awkward as hell?”
“It wasn’t just you.”
Chapter 22
Hallie
Tate had made us all breakfast by the time I went downstairs with Kyle. There were eggs and bacon and toast, even waffles. I was already finished with my 24-hour shift but having breakfast with the crew sounded such a better idea than rushing home to get the cold shoulder from Jeremy.
“What’s up, Cap?” Kyle asked around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “You’re awful quiet this morning.”
“It’s nothing,” Tate said. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” He didn’t look up when answered, let alone at me. I had a feeling in the pit of my gut that whatever he was pondering so deeply had to do with me; the good, the bad, or the ugly. I wanted desperately to poke him further, to get him to talk, but I wasn’t about to do that in front of the guys. They’d forgotten already turning their attention to polishing off plates of bacon and toast, but I couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling that something was really wrong.
After breakfast, I took the dishes to the sink and started to load the dishwasher as the crew filed out to start their morning routine. Tate was the last one to leave, and I couldn’t help but notice the distance he put between us as he piled dirty dishes onto the counter for loading.
“Hey,” I asked after a few minutes of heavy silence. “Are you really okay? Something seems off.”
“I’m fine.” He still, he didn’t look at me.
“You don’t seem fine.”
“Yeah, well, I am.” He finally looked over, but there was no warmth in his eyes, only wariness. “Isn’t your shift over? You can go home, you know.”
“I know,” I said, trying not to sound too annoyed. “I’m just not sure I want to put up with Jeremy’s shit right now.” It was the first time I’d even mentioned Jeremy’s name in the station—it sounded weird.
“He’s your fiancé,” Tate said. I swear I could sense a hint of bitterness in his tone. “That’s what you signed up for when you said yes.”
“Whoa.” I dropped the dish I’d been holding back into the sink, totally caught off guard. “That was both unexpected and extremely unprofessional.”
“What, the truth?”
“My personal life.”
“You brought it up.”
I couldn’t argue, because I knew I had. Even if I did want to kick Tate in the knee.
“Where is all of this coming from?” I asked instead. “Why are you being an asshole suddenly? I thought you already forgave me for what happened the other day.”
“That was both unexpected and extremely unprofessional,” Tate said. He didn’t look at me.
“What was?”
“Calling your boss an asshole.”
“Sorry, I meant Captain Asshole.”
Neither of us said anything for another few minutes, the only sound in the room was the clank of the dishes as I rinsed the last of them and started the washer. I wasn’t sure what to say, and I had the feeling that he didn’t, either. Finally, after the last little bit of counter had been scrubbed and the final dish loaded, Tate spoke.
“I’m serious, Harper,” he said. “Go home and spend some time with Jeremy. Becoming a workaholic is a dangerous thing. You’ll end up losing him if you don’t.”
Tate’s odd demeanor was still on my mind later that morning when I arrived home. But I wanted to take his advice seriously and try to make up with Jeremy. He was my fiancé, the man I loved, the one I planned to marry and spend the rest of my life with. We had to see if we could work this out and I knew we couldn’t avoid it forever.
Jeremy would be at the school until after five, so I spent some time tidying up the house. I ran down the street to the store for some groceries; a case of Jeremy’s favorite beer for him, a bottle of wine for me, oysters, crackers and fancy cheese, and some chocolate-dipped strawberries that I hoped would help aid fix whatever issues we still had between us. I hopped on the treadmill for an hour, and then showered before slipping into a sleek and revealing black dress, which I knew was Jeremy’s favorite. At five, I lit some candles around the house and uncorked the wine, ready for him when he walked through the door.
At five-thirty, I texted him to ask if he was on his way home. A few minutes later he texted me back.
Working late. Sry baby. Don’t wait up.
Damnit. I tossed the phone aside and swallowed my disappointment. My eyes flickered around the house at the silly, romantic gesture I’d tried so hard to pull off. I was about to take a chug of the wine but then thought better of it and corked the bottle instead, slipping on my sluttiest high heeled shoes. If Jeremy couldn’t tear himself away from the office, I could surprise him at work, just like we used to do when we first met. Once upon a time I loved watching him clack away on his computer or see his brow furrow in concentration as he read a student’s paper on the Civil War. It had been such a turn on seeing him work. I missed that.
I drove to campus and parked near the History building, toting the bottle of wine and the six pack under my arm as I made my way inside. It was almost six, so the place was deserted as I crossed the dimly lit hall, my footsteps echoing down the corridor. The place was silent, eerily quiet, as I tried to remember where Jeremy’s office was. A janitor with a mop, bucket and headphones glanced at me briefly as I passed, raising his hand in a polite wave. I smiled and nodded back, turning the corner towards the little group of doors I knew were offices. I found Jeremy’s door and reached for the handle, but not before I smoothed out my dress and checked my lipstick in my compact mirror. Then, smiling, I twisted the handle and pushed it open.
I shou
ld have expected what came next, honestly. Even so, the breath left my lungs as I stood in the doorway to Jeremy’s office and stared at the scene unraveling in front of me. Jeremy, standing with his pants around his ankles, leaned against his workspace desk as a young woman with dark hair kneeled in front of him, her hands wrapped around his penis. As the door opened, both Jeremy and the woman scrambled in shock to cover themselves.
“Hallie,” Jeremy said. “Jesus. I—Hallie.”
I didn’t know what to say or what to do. I wasn’t sure I could will myself to do anything anyway. My eyes met Jeremy’s and I momentarily forgot about the young woman in the corner yanking a shirt back on, her eyes to the floor.
“I...my voice trailed off, and I abruptly turned away, stumbling blindly down the quiet hallway as Jeremy chased after me, calling desperately, his bare feet sounding oddly thick as they slapped against the tile floor.
“Just let me explain,” he called, but I was already rushing through the unlocked doors and into the darkness. My tears streamed, blinding me, hands and fingers shaking with rage until I managed to get into the safety of my car.
I drove and then kept on driving, heart racing in my chest, still trembling with hurt, rage, angst. Emotions choked me until I could barely breathe, could hardly piece together what I’d just seen. In the seat next to me, my phone was ringing. And ringing. And ringing. But I didn’t look over. I couldn’t bear to pick it up and hear Jeremy’s pathetic pleas on the other end of the line, begging me to come back, to understand, that it wasn’t what it looked like.
I didn’t even realize I’d been driving towards the station until I pulled into the lot and parked the car. It was dark out, but the kitchen light lit up part of the lot. Inside the building I could see some familiar figures moving about in there. I sat and stared for a while, tears streaming silently down my face. I couldn’t go in there, not now, not with the way I looked, not after what had happened. It wouldn’t just be unprofessional, but pathetic, and I wasn’t about to get into more trouble for bringing my home life to work. I had to get out of there and have a meltdown elsewhere.
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