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It was a long weekend. Anthony’s concert was amazing. Except for Bailey’s wedding, it was the first time I’d seen him on stage, and I can’t deny the man has star power. The audience was eating out of the palm of his hand. We followed that up with a hike up Welkins Ridge with the Mayor and an assortment of tourists. No UFOs, but the Mayor, almost as charismatic as Anthony in his own way, combined stories about the town with UFO legends and a lot of humor and we had a ton of fun.
I still haven’t bought any whipped cream, but that didn’t stop us from enjoying the rest of the night together after we got home. It was getting light by the time we finally fell asleep.
Then it was straight into a 24-hour shift, followed by 24 hours off during which I squandered sleep time in favor of staying up late with Blaze, then I was up again early this morning for another shift. Now the heat in conjunction with the droning report from the head of the Historic Landmarks board has me fighting a series of yawns. It wouldn’t look good if the fire chief fell asleep in public.
Finally, Walden stands up and makes his way to the podium. Blazes’s fingers tighten around mine and I’m instantly alert.
Walden clears his throat. “And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for.” Polite laughter ripples around the room. “First of all, I want to thank all the members of the public who have taken time over the last couple of months to express their opinions about what should be done with the Addison,” he says. “I want to assure you that we’ve taken your calls, your letters, and your emails very seriously. It’s never easy to have to make a decision like this.”
Beside me, Blaze takes a deep breath. Her gaze is fixated on Walden. Almost as nervous as she is, I squeeze her hand back.
Not Scarlett, not Scarlett, please, not Scarlett…
Walden continues. “After a lot of deliberation amongst the council members, we finally came to a majority decision. On behalf of the council, I’d like to offer my congratulations to Chief Jeremy Wainwright and the Welkins Ridge Fire Station, the new owner of the Addison building.”
30
BLAZE
Applause bursts out around us, but all I can hear is the sound of blood rushing in my ears.
What?
Slowly, I turn to look at Jeremy beside me. He shakes his head and mouths something but can’t hear what he’s trying to say.
I’m flooded with a sick feeling of betrayal. It feels like hours but it can’t be more than a second or two that I sit there in a stupor. I jerk out of it when Jeremy puts his hand on my arm and leans toward me.
The weight of his hand—that strong, sexy hand—shakes me out of my daze. Thank goodness I’m on an aisle seat.
Up at the podium, Walden is saying something about adjourning the meeting. Around me, people are already starting to stand up and filter out of the room. I grab my purse, stand, and push my way down the aisle toward the door, trying to put as many people between me and Jeremy as possible without drawing attention to myself.
I glance over my shoulder just before I get to the door. Jeremy is surrounded by a close knot of well-wishers shaking his hand. I can’t say if I’m disappointed or relieved that he’s not even trying to follow me.
I don’t want to seem like a sore loser, but…
I am a sore loser. As in, my heart is sore. It aches heavily in my chest, the pain too deep for tears—though I have a feeling they’re on their way. How could he do this to me? And why? Did he lie about withdrawing just to have sex with me?
No, because we had sex before he offered.
Or was it to distract me so that I wasn’t 100% focused on getting the building?
Or was it just to mess with me? Because it seems like that’s what this town does.
There are only a handful of people in the lobby. I stride through it and push my way out through the glass doors.
It’s a beautiful late summer evening, the heat tempered by the setting sun and the encroachment of fall. The sky is a gorgeous blend of pinks and purples. My breath catches in my throat, and I lean heavily against the town hall’s brick wall for support.
And just when I’m wondering how things could possibly get any worse, Scarlett appears.
She looks like she just stepped out of a glossy magazine for female professionals. She’s wearing an expensive linen suit in a flattering shade of violet, her slender legs on display like always, her hair and make-up perfect.
Casually, she pulls a cigarette out of her purse and lights it. There’s a 20-foot no-smoking zone around the town hall, but Scarlett was never one for following the rules.
I notice that her hands tremble almost imperceptibly. She lost, too, I remember. Now that we’re in the same boat, is it possible she’ll say something human, like, Bummer we both lost, or Better luck next time?
“Looks like we both lost to the hot fireman.” She turns to me with a smirk and even though we’re the same height, she manages to look down her nose at me. “It was almost worth it to see the look on your face.”
The pain of betrayal that’s been clamped so firmly around my throat, making it hard to breathe and impossible to talk, suddenly releases, replaced with a hot rush of anger.
