Chapter One #3
“I don’t think so, I just turned on the oven when the doorbell rang.” She looked around and noticed a thin trail of smoke
coming from the kitchen. “Fire!” she cried, her voice slightly squeaky from the effects of the cold.
Quinn responded before she could, racing into the kitchen. A billow of black, bulging smoke followed.
Meggie hurried in after him and as the smoke cleared she saw Quinn standing at the sink, running water over a large box of
cornflakes.
“Terrific,” she groaned at her stupidity, her voice shaking.
“Do you always broil your cornflakes?” Quinn asked with marked patience.
“Of course not,” she snapped, waving her hands to help clear the smoke and offensive smell. “I’d forgotten it was in there.
The box was too large to fit in the cupboard, so I stuck it in the oven.”
“Even Girl Scouts know to check the oven before turning it on.” His voice was thick with mocking humor. “I can see living
next door to you is going to be an adventure.”
As he finished speaking the smoke alarm started buzzing loudly and Meggie whirled around, confused. “Oh, great, now what?”
“Open the sliding glass door and let some fresh air inside. That should stop the alarm, otherwise someone’s apt to phone the
fire department.”
With abrupt hurried movements, Meggie rushed to the closet and yanked her coat off the hanger.
Quinn glanced at her with a hint of exasperation. “What are you doing now?”
“I’ve got a rotten cold. I’m not about to risk catching a chill,” she shouted above the smoke alarm.
Sliding the large glass door open, Meggie swung both arms in huge sweeping motions in an effort to force the smoke outside.
The irritating buzzer stopped and Meggie exhaled with a cough. Wrapping the coat more securely around her, she traipsed back
into the kitchen.
“Look at this mess,” she groaned, angry with herself for being so stupid. The kitchen walls were coated with a thin layer
of soot and her throat was aching again.
Quinn dumped what was left of the charred cereal in the garbage and when he turned back around, Meggie couldn’t restrain a
laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“You.” Her fingers hid her mouth as if the effort would disguise her amusement. “You’re covered in soot.”
There was nothing to laugh about but suddenly Meggie knew she was either going to laugh or cry. She chose the former until
tears blurred her vision.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she attempted to remove a black smudge from his cheek with the tips of her fingers. “You’ve been
kind and I’ve . . .”
His eyes searched hers and the look that did funny things to her heart rate returned. He seemed to reach out to her, touching
some soft place in her being that had never been exposed before. The masculine line of his mouth curved into a warm, sensuous
smile. “Do you think you could manage to live through the rest of the night without burning down the building?”
“Oh, sure,” she said lightly, unable to take her eyes from his face. “I sometimes go whole years without this much excitement.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he chuckled on his way to the door. Pausing, he turned back around. “You have the whistle.” All the
humor was gone from his eyes.
“Got it.” She slapped her pants pocket. “Quinn?”
“Yeah?” Again his eyes met hers.
“Thank you.”
“Any time, kid.”
“Meggie,” she corrected softly. A child was the last thing she wanted him to consider her.
“All right, Meggie.” He said it, testing the sound of her name on his lips. He nodded almost indiscernibly, as if he found
it pleasing.
A wistful smile edged her mouth upwards as she watched him close the door. Unconsciously her teeth bit into her bottom lip.
Things could become very interesting with her neighbor. Very interesting.
Meggie was a little disappointed that she didn’t see Quinn again for several days. She’d hoped that he’d ask how her whistle
lessons were going but it was almost as if he was avoiding her. After two nights of blowing the piercing sound into the phone
the minute the obscenities started, she hadn’t received another call. Meggie felt triumphant, free. She wanted to share it
with Quinn. Normally they left for work at about the same time, but she hadn’t caught a glimpse of him since the night of
the fire in her kitchen, enforcing the sensation that he was eluding her.
Saturday morning the sun filtered through the window, spraying the apartment with a golden warmth. The forecast was for late-afternoon
clouds and a possible rainstorm, but Meggie cast the thought aside. Standing on the lanai, overlooking the City of Roses,
she inhaled deeply of the fresh, vibrant air. Her cold was nearly gone now. After several days of chewing vitamin Cs like
they were candy and catching up on her rest, she felt like a new person.
“Get going, lazybones,” she said aloud. Dirty kitchen walls were beckoning and she’d dressed in faded jeans and a sweatshirt
for the project.
She had just dipped the rag into the hot sudsy water when the doorbell rang. Panic filled her. Please, don’t let it be Quinn,
she prayed; she wanted to look ravishing when he saw her again. Not dressed in jeans.
It was Quinn.
“Meggie, can I ask a favor?” he asked with a half-amused expression reading her sweatshirt that said, GOD THE FATHER, written
in lettering that resembled the movie The Godfather.
“You need a favor?” Meggie repeated the question. Suddenly it didn’t matter that he saw her at her worst; she could only look
better from now on. “I’d do almost anything for a fire fighter,” she teased. Quinn didn’t smile.
“I’ve been called out on a case. My daughter’s with me this weekend.”
Meggie tried to hide the shock in her eyes. Daughter? This weekend? Quinn was married . . . divorced?
She attempted to cover her surprise with a question. “What can I do?”
“Jill’s thirteen and old enough to take care of herself, but she gets bored. Could she come over here for a while? I shouldn’t
be more than a couple of hours, three at the most.”
“That’s fine, I’m not doing anything important.”
“Thanks.” He nodded curtly, but not before Meggie recognized the appreciation in his eyes.
A few minutes later her doorbell chimed again. When Meggie answered there was a tall, thin girl with an outbreak of acne on
her face. She stood, defiantly staring back at Meggie. Straight blonde hair fell haphazardly down her shoulders. Her blue
eyes coolly surveyed Meggie.
“I’m Jill,” she introduced herself.
“Hi, Jill, come in.” Meggie smiled warmly, hoping to dispel the chilly atmosphere.
She entered the apartment slowly, appraising Meggie and the apartment with unfriendly eyes.
“Are you making it with my dad?” she demanded.