“If anything disappears, you’re fired.” She gives me a glare.
Another loud siren interrupts anything I could say as fire trucks and police vehicles switch places. The firefighters look practically gleeful as they run toward the building. One particularly eager woman starts dragging a hose from the fire truck to connect with the fire hydrant. She looks far too happy at the possibility of there being a fire.
At least she’s having a good day, I think.
“We won’t be going back to work today,” Isabel says asshe watches yet another fire truck pull up in front of the building. “I think I’ll go get a massage to calm my nerves.”
She marches away from the crowd, hardly sparing me another glance.
“Will she really fire you?”
I jump at the question and spin around to see that Nash is standing there.
Well, that was embarrassing.
He heard the threat of her firing me. That doesn’t exactly make it seem like I’m a stellar employee.
I nod, my attention on an ambulance that drives over the curb and parks in front of the main entrance to the building. “Isabel hasn’t fired anyone in six weeks. She’s feeling the urge again. She’s a serial firer.” I point at the ambulance, desperate to change the subject. “Why do you suppose they need that? Someone isn’t hurt, do you think?”
“It’s probably just protocol and nothing to worry about.” He steps closer, and his arm brushes against mine as we watch the paramedics line the sidewalk, waiting for the word from the firefighters.
“You don’t suppose someone fell down the stairs?” I glance up at him. “I heard other people talking about how rough it was getting outside. Maybe someone is hurt.”
“Are you borrowing trouble?” he asks in a low voice.
“I don’t even need to borrow it. I seem to already have it. I might need to squeeze in a massage for myself.”
“You’ll be fine,” he assures me.
“I will? Why would you say that?”
“Because you’re a trooper.”
“Perhaps I’m a trooper who likes a good massage.”
“If you come with me to speak to the fire chief, I’ll give you that massage myself.”
“You must be HR’s worst nightmare. But I’m intrigued. How good are you?” I lift his hand to study it. It’s bigger than my face.
“I’ve never given a massage before, but I’ll look up a tutorial online.”
“That doesn’t sound sketchy at all,” I reply with a laugh.
“I promise I’m a quick learner,” he says with a wink. He’s got a face card guaranteed to send a tingle down your spine.
“Maybe I want to talk to the nice fire chief with you.”
“That’s the spirit. Maybe he’ll give you a sticker.”
I release his wrist when I realize how weird I’m being.
He winks and jerks his chin. “Come on.”
And what do you know? I follow after him. He’s the Pied Piper, and I’ll go where he leads.
We stop next to an older gentleman wearing the station T-shirt and a ball cap. His well-groomed mustache must be the inspiration for firefighters everywhere because he looks fantastic.
“There was no smoke in the building, but there are some gas lines. Maybe something set off the CO2 sensors,” my fire-drill partner says to him.
