Chapter Thirteen Lila
“Will you remind me again why I agreed to this idea of yours?”
Noah flashes me a grin better suited for a toothpaste ad on the Q train, then gives my safety harness one last tug on the straps. It’s a devious maneuver that has me shuffling an inch closer to him.
“Because I’m incredibly charming and irresistible,” he quips.
“Oh, yes. And humble, too.”
He cackles. I gaze out at Manhattan’s skyline across the East River, already glittering in the early evening light.
Ambience, Jake had insisted earlier today. The illusion of encroaching darkness will add to the ambience of the whole thing.
He’s the camera expert, so I figured it was best to follow his lead.
The roof of the FDNY’s training tower in Queens—one of many, which is basically a glorified abandoned warehouse that’s been repurposed for various firefighting drills—sprawls out large and expansive beneath us.
I didn’t think I was afraid of heights, but now that I’m standing on the edge of a four-story building, my stomach is doing flips.
Then again, that could also be due to Noah’s proximity.
Because, hell, Jake really had a vision.
Noah, with all his golden-boy good looks, is practically radiant in this kind of light.
And if he’d stop grinning so peevishly, he could pass as downright angelic.
Either way, I’m positive the public is going to eat up this episode of Save A Hero when it drops.
“It’s not too tight, is it?” Noah asks me, gesturing to my harness.
“No, why?”
“You’ve got a weird look on your face.”
“Perhaps the weird look is due to the fact that I’m being told to jump off a building.” Some ways behind us, the camera crew is still setting up, so I can spare a few moments for nerve-induced petulance. “This was supposed to be a demonstration, Noah. Not an actual execution.”
“Execution? Fuck’s sake, Blondie, I’m not planning to kill you.”
I shake my head in exasperation. “You know there’s more than one meaning to that word. It’s a homonym.”
“What is this, the SATs?”
“And what if I push you off the ledge right now…”
Noah chuckles. “Relax. Like you said, it’s only a demonstration.
You’re not jumping off a building, Hart.
You’re being rescued from the top floor of a burning building by a strong, heroic firefighter.
Your only job, as a mere civilian, is to show how easy it is to be calm and collected when us dependable, capable public servants come to your aid. ”
Pursing my lips, I dare to glance back over the edge of the roof.
“A mere civilian,” I echo in a mocking tone.
“This was literally your idea,” he reminds me. “I just embellished it.”
It’s true. I knew I wanted Noah’s episode to include an impressive safety demonstration of sorts so that people could see him as more than a hunk who rescued a kitten from a tree. As in, he can rescue actual people, too. Very competently.
I had unshakeable faith in him… up until this moment.
So, I guess I am afraid of heights.
“Hey,” he murmurs, moving closer. “You’re going to be fine. You’re with me.”
In the fading light, the details of his features have gone hazy at the edges.
We haven’t turned the filming lights on yet, not wanting to waste electricity in an old building that, apparently, already has outdated wiring.
When Noah informed us of that earlier and I raised my eyebrows in disbelief, he shrugged and said, “Well, if the wires blow up and spark a flame, it’ll just be another training exercise, won’t it? ”
We definitely won’t be telling the public about that, though.
Noah’s brow furrows when I don’t respond. “You don’t trust me?”
There’s a note of genuine uncertainty in his voice that kind of makes me want to hug him. Noah is the sort of person who just wants people to like him. He wants to be a source of joy. Wants to be the cause of smiles and laughter, but also a reliable support beam.
And with half the public now lacking trust in him, he doesn’t need me adding to the backlash.
“I trust you,” I promise.
And maybe it’s just the shadows, but I think Noah’s eyes might drop down to my lips when I say that.
“Alright, we’re ready to turn those lights on!” shouts Jake from a few yards away.
I lift my hand in a thumbs-up, squint my eyes in preparation, and then there’s a flood of bright light washing over us. Automatically, I take a step back from Noah until there’s an appropriate amount of distance between us.
Shielding my gaze, I spot Lou hovering behind Jake and his assistant, who is fussing with the extension cord we dragged all the way up here. I really hope the wiring obeys.
Lou is watching me, though, and I don’t need to see my best friend clearly to know that she’s smirking.
“Quite the conundrum,” she crooned earlier. “Three hot firemen want to do the nasty with you. How will you ever endure?”
“None of them want to ‘do the nasty with me,’” I tried to argue.
Which is true. Hale wants to kiss me, yes, and he did say something about getting on his knees… but it’s clear that he has no intention of acting on those desires again. And Evan is too chivalrous and well-behaved to break his union’s rules for my sake.
As for Noah, he flirts with everyone. I’m not convinced his winks, playful nicknames, and appreciative glances make me special.
Which is fine. Totally fine. Romance is the least important thing for me to be worrying about right now.
“Alright, guys, are we ready?” Jake announces.
“Ready!” Noah and I shout back in unison.
“In three, two, one—action!”
I plaster on my PR smile, brush aside all my fear, and focus on what’s important: doing a good job so that Noah can do a good job. This is supposed to fix his reputation and save Station 47, thus boosting Hartstrings to another level.
I’ve got to keep my eye on the prize.
“Hi everyone!” I chirp. “I’m Lila Hart with Hartstrings Public Relations, here with Lieutenant Noah Trent, who is about to show us how firefighters perform high-angle rescue when the lower floors of a burning building are unsafe to navigate.”
The best part about this episode is the fact that Noah, unlike stoic Hale and reserved Evan, is a natural in front of the camera. He jumps right in without needing to be encouraged.
“That’s right, Lila.” He offers a playful salute to the camera lens.
“When fire or debris cut off exit routes, or when the fire has spread too fast and has compromised the overall structure, we often scale up to those trapped at the top and rappel them down. We train hard so that it’s a quick, efficient process. ”
“And he’s about to show everyone exactly how it’s done,” I add, gesturing to the harness strapped around my hips and thighs. At least I was able to wear comfortable leggings for this shoot.
“Don’t worry, folks.” Noah beams at the camera. “Lila is in very capable hands.”
I think I hear Lou make a choking noise, something like a laugh disguised as a cough, but maybe it’s just the distant churn of traffic.
Taking a deep breath, I try to look far more calm than I feel. While Noah cheerfully chatters, explaining that he’s slowing down the process to demonstrate better, I’m hooked up to a rope, which is secured to a pulley system fastened to the roof.
It’s an effort not to insist that I personally check that the pulley really is bolted down properly. Mostly because I didn’t get the chance to Google can you die from a forty-foot fall.
I’m pretty sure the answer is yes.
But this is important. I need to be brave. Noah needs me to trust him.
When Noah hooks our harnesses together and coaxes me closer to the edge, I tense.
“Naturally, most people are pretty freaked out by the prospect of descending that far to the ground,” Noah babbles happily, totally in his element. Idly, I notice that Jake’s assistant is once again checking the extension cord and various cables, but I try to focus on my hero instead.
“I’m not freaked out at all!” I insist.
Noah laughs. I’m obviously not convincing.
“It’s okay,” he assures me. “The good news is that this is just a demonstration and you’re not currently faced with a choice between falling with me or getting caught in a fire.”
“Yes, that’s very great news.” I playfully cringe at the camera, purposefully hamming it up so that my nerves won’t seem too real.
“This right here is an automatic belay device,” he carries on, gesturing to the clunky metal thing he fed the rope through. It’s attached to him with a complicated knot, but I’m fastened to him with nothing but a thick strap with a carabiner on either end.
Which I’m sure is totally normal climbing equipment, but I am very much a feet on the ground type of girl.
I miss the rest of his explanation about the equipment. I hope he said it’s failsafe and tested to handle at least five thousand pounds of weight. Just in case.
“Okay, Lila.” Noah wraps an arm around my waist, guiding me so close to the ledge that the heel of my sneaker flings a pebble off into the abyss. “Are you ready?”
The cameras. The campaign. Eyes on the prize.
“I’m ready, Lieutenant.”
“I need you to wrap your arms around my shoulders—yes, good. Just like that. I’ve got you. Trust me, I’m very strong.” Noah pauses to grin at the camera, earning a chuckle from Lou. “Now, plant your feet just like this—great job. Okay, on the count of three, you’re going to lean back with me.”
“Lean back?” I squeak before I can stop myself.
“Exactly.” Noah gives my waist a reassuring squeeze. “Keep your legs straight if you can, but otherwise just hold on to me and know that I won’t let you fall.”
He’s good at this, the soothing words and gestures of comfort.
Noah knows how to make people feel better about any situation, and I think that’s why I’ve felt so drawn to him.
I’m his mirror. I want to be helpful. I want to solve problems. That’s why I went into public relations—because I know how to look on the bright side of things.
“Okay.” I swallow hard. “Let’s do this.”
“One… two… three!”