Chapter 18
CHAPTER 18
S HANNON
Tillie throws me a sideways glance as she files out of the conference room with the rest of the team. I sit and watch since Will asked me to stay behind. I survived yet another boring meeting where the senior accountants gave updates on their accounts. What should be an hour-long meeting always turns into two because we listen to them trying to one-up each other to impress the big boss, Mr. Stinson.
I can’t hold back a smirk as I recall the text Tillie sent me forty-five minutes into the meeting.
Tillie: This is ridiculous. I’m waiting for them to all drop their pants and have a dick-measuring contest...
I do need to get her back, though. I read the text during the meeting, and I tried to stop the laughter from escaping me. That caused it to come out as a mixture of a squeal and a snort. Everyone looked at me, and I pretended it was a sneeze and said, “Excuse me.” Now, the whole team must think I sneeze like a gleeful pig when its slop is served.
As the last person leaves the room, Will walks over and closes the door before returning to sit next to me. At first, everything is fine. We review my work on the accounts he’s assigned me and go over the spreadsheet where I track the hours needed to sit for my exam. I’m excited I’ll have enough completed by the end of this week.
“Great work. Before we go back to our desks, let’s look over your numbers on the account you took over from Jinley one more time. Can you pull the spreadsheet up, please?”
Instead of opening the shared document on his tablet, Will leans in and looks at my laptop screen, his forearm resting on the back of my chair and his body angled toward mine. We’ve already gone over this spreadsheet twice, but he wants to see it again? He’s the boss, so I open the document.
“Hmm,” he says, leaning closer as if he needs to be nearer to the computer... It also brings him nearer to me. He uses his stylus and moves around the screen, checking different fields. He says nothing.
Without any warning, the hand on my chair moves to my back and rests lightly between my shoulder blades. I tense and glance over at him, but he doesn’t acknowledge my reaction and continues to peruse my work as if he doesn’t have his hand on me.
After about two minutes, Will leans back from the screen but doesn’t remove his hand. Instead, he flattens his palm, putting more pressure into the touch. I’m about to say something, but I’m saved by the fire alarm in the building as it blares.
I stand immediately and step away. I’m grateful to the alarm for giving me the excuse to free myself from his unwanted touch and also giving me time to decide how I want to handle it. Instead of getting to his feet, Will chuckles.
“Sit down, Shannon. It’s likely a false alarm. I never leave for these.”
I recoil, annoyed with his cavalier attitude. I’ve heard too many stories from Troy over the years, and it’s ignorant not to evacuate as fire alarms are going off. Plus, every person who behaves like Will and doesn’t leave a building when the alarms are blaring is potentially putting a firefighter at risk. If there’s a legitimate fire and it gets out of control, firefighters may have to risk their own lives to rescue someone who could have gotten out if they had heeded the alarm.
“Sorry, rule follower here.” I reach down, grab my laptop and phone, and walk toward the door of the room. When I get there, I turn back and see Will staring at me. He folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. I sincerely hope this man doesn’t think he can pull the boss card to make me stay.
“Come on, this is the right thing to do.” I smile at him, though it’s manufactured, as nothing about these last few moments makes me want to smile. Still, I feel a need to de-escalate the tension.
Will shakes his head slightly but gets up and walks toward me. Not wanting him to think I want to be close to him, I don’t wait for him now that he’s in motion.
When we get outside, I’m glad it’s a beautiful fall day in Ohio. I’ll take sixty-three degrees and sunny in October any day, especially because I know it’s possible to be buried under snow already. It doesn’t usually happen... but it can. Still, I try to shake off the chill from the irritation I feel at Will. Our building is in Station One’s territory, and Troy is on shift today. So is my brother-in-law, Lincoln. Will’s arrogance could have put them in more danger than necessary.
As the sirens wail through the air, getting nearer, I smell smoke, and worry starts to fill my mind. I spot Tillie standing on the edge of the crowd of employees gathered off to the side, and I join her.
Tillie tilts her head to the side when she sees me and fixes her gaze on me, her eyes narrowed. “You okay?”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, just annoyed. I can tell you about it later. When we’re alone.” I widen my eyes and gesture to Ruthie, our Administrative Assistant, who’s standing in front of us. She’s gawking at the firefighters filing out of the trucks. Tillie nods in understanding, and we both turn toward the activity around the fire trucks.
I break into a smile as I notice Ruthie use her fingers to fluff her head of silver hair and then run her hands down the front of her skirt to flatten any wrinkles. You’ve gotta love Ruthie. She may be a shameless gossip, but otherwise, she’s everything I aspire to be at her age. At seventy-one, she’s spry and more energetic than I am most days. Plus, the woman always comes to work one hundred percent put together. She may follow fashion trends from twenty years ago, but she fully commits to them and rocks them.
As the firefighters gather around their captain for their assignments, I quickly spot Troy and Lincoln. Troy’s head tracks from side to side. His lips pursed as his gaze skimmed over the crowd of employees gathered, clearly scanning us. It only takes about fifteen seconds before he spots me, and we make eye contact. When I see the tension fall from his face, and he takes a deep breath then lets it out, his eyes locked on mine the entire time, my heart beats a bit faster in my chest.
He was looking for me.
I offer him a slight smile, and he gives me a subtle nod and then turns back to his team. I don’t let myself dwell too long on the fact that it’s clear he was stressed until he saw I was safe. He knows I work here, after all. Instead, I focus on watching them work.
It strikes me that in all the years we’ve been married, I’ve never seen Troy working at the scene of a fire. Why would I? But now, watching him help pull the fire hose out and then gearing up, I’m a little intrigued by how hot he looks doing it. I’m not the only one noticing, either. I glance around me and see that many of the women are fully invested in what is happening thirty feet or so from us. Only, it’s not Troy’s younger, more outgoing colleagues they’re watching. No, they’re watching him, and I don’t care for it. At all.
My heart pounds when Troy and a rookie line up at the front door. They pause for a moment, Troy’s mouth moving and the younger man laser-focused on him. It’s clear from watching them that Troy is giving him guidance. Troy grips the younger man’s shoulder and nods at him. Then, within seconds, they enter the building first.
Another couple of pairs of firefighters prepare to follow after, but I can’t focus on them. I’m too distracted worrying about Troy. A smoke cloud is accumulating above the building, so something really must be happening—no false alarms today.
“The hot one went in already. Damn. I was hoping he’d be working out here so we could keep watching the show.” The voice belongs to a woman standing off to the side of us. I recognize her from the floor above ours. Plus, I’ve seen her talking to Will a few times. She’s gorgeous—tall, sleek blond hair pulled back in a bun and makeup that looks like a professional applied it. She’s probably a few years younger than me and definitely in better shape.
“Ew, Mel. He barely looks legal,” her colleague responds.
“Not the baby firefighter. The other one. Jesus, that man is gorgeous. Did you see the intensity on his face when he was looking over here earlier? I’d like to see that look on his face with my mouth wrapped?—”
“Did you growl?” Tillie asks, her voice hushed. It pulls me out of eavesdropping mode.
Did I?
“Um...” I bite at my lip. “Not that I’m aware of, but it’s possible.”
“You totally did.” Tillie grins. Her eyes are bright with amusement. “What’s that about, tiger ?”
“Jesus.” I glance around and see Ruthie watching us, clearly trying to hear what we’re saying. With a grip on her sleeve, I drag Tillie several feet away from prying ears. “My husband’s here.”
Tillie’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “As in the husband you’re divorcing? Which one?”
“Yep, that husband. He was the one who went inside. The one that the woman from the third floor was talking about. You probably didn’t see?—”
“Oh, I saw him. Damn, girl. He’s hot, so he must be a real asshole or a bore in the bedroom if you’re divorcing him.”
My shoulders droop. “Definitely not a bore in the bedroom. That was never a problem between us. He’s not an asshole, either. He’s a good guy.”
“Well then, what is it because I’m struggling to get it?”
I survey the scene around us. Too many ears listening. “Let’s do dinner or lunch, and I’ll tell you. I don’t want to do it here.”
Tillie opens her mouth to answer me, but we’re interrupted when Ruthie walks up. “Did you hear it was a toaster fire in the break room upstairs from us? Some smoke damage but nothing big.”
Well, that’s good news, at least. We stand outside, watching the building and waiting to see what happens next.
A few minutes later, Troy’s rookie walks out of the fire with Troy behind him. They both pull off their face masks and walk toward their colleagues.
I can’t stop looking at Troy. My eyes are glued on him when he stops several feet away from his team, and I can see his mouth moving and him gesturing to his rookie, who pays him intense attention. Troy turns and points something out on the building. I’m guessing he’s using this as a teaching moment. It reminds me of how he is with our kids, and a strange emotion swells in my chest.
After the all-clear is given, we’re herded back inside, and I’m bummed I didn’t get to say hello to Troy. When I’m only about ten feet from the entrance, I glance over my shoulder, and there he is. He stands a few feet from his peers, his hair a mess, holding his helmet in his hands and his gaze fixed on me. When his eyes meet mine, something in my stomach does a weird flip-flop, and a warm sensation fills my chest.
Before I know it, I raise my hand and give him a small wave and smile. I hope he can see in my expression that I’m happy he’s okay.