Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Olivia
S taring down the barrel of a loaded gun might’ve been easier than keeping my composure while coming face-to-face with my daughter’s father.
As it was, a bead of sweat rolled down the center of my back under his direct stare. I barely managed to contain the squirm that my body so desperately wanted.
Thankfully, I’d opted for the full power of the formal dress suit of fire chief. A stark white jacket that proudly bore my badge and deftly concealed my overactive sweat glands.
I’d worked my way through the ranks, and I knew the level of respect the uniform alone granted me. The rest I’d have to earn on my own.
Except, now, I faced off with the one man I thought I’d never see again. A man who’d haunted me every single day for nearly sixteen years.
And I couldn’t let on. Couldn’t let them see the shock that threatened to drop me to my knees, the fear that he would hate me once he knew the truth, the regret that things had turned out the way they had. I had to be professional and composed.
Focusing on the city manager while he spoke, I inhaled slowly through my nose and exhaled just as slowly, rubbing my finger over the warm metal of my thumb ring. As always, the movement calmed me.
This first meeting with my new command would set the tone. I needed to exude confidence and control, despite what was quickly becoming the worst moment of my life.
Cathy had thoughtfully prepared some homework for me. A file containing the headshots and names of the commanding officers that I hadn’t had time to fully review prior to the meeting. At that moment, I regretted not taking a moment to at least look it over. Maybe then the surprise of seeing him wouldn’t have rattled me so much.
And these men seeing me as anything other than in charge was unacceptable.
Mr. Bloom finished with his long-winded introduction, and it was time to face the men around the conference table.
“Thank you, Mayor Smith, Mr. Bloom. I appreciate the opportunity to serve the city of Newman.” It rankled to have to basically kiss ass, but it was smart to play nice on the first week of the job. I turned and addressed the men who would be working for me, my mask of HBIC—Head Bitch in Charge—firmly in place.
“Good morning. First, let me say thank you for coming and being on time. I’ll keep this short and sweet. I’m sure you have a full day ahead of you, and this last-minute meeting probably challenged your plans. ”
I glanced around the room, noting the body language of the four captains. Three sat at the table, one stood along the wall in front of an old-school dry-erase board. All had assumed some form of defensive pose. Arms crossed over chests, closed off.
I’d been correct in my assumption that they wouldn’t appreciate the inevitable disruption of their schedules. And some of these men no doubt had thought they’d be in this role, giving orders rather than taking them from someone else, much less a woman.
A girl could choke on the amount of testosterone in the room.
“Second, to answer the question I’m sure you have. Yes, I’m qualified for this role. I’ve got fifteen years of fire service. I’m a certified paramedic. I graduated at the top of my class with a fire science degree and completed my master’s in emergency management.”
The looks on their faces told me what I needed to know. Book smarts wouldn’t cut it, and they weren’t down with political games either.
“But my real mettle comes from a long family history in the fire service. My father was a fire chief and my grandfather before him. I grew up learning fire strategy and hearing about issues that departments face. In every department I’ve been a part of, I’ve completed the mandatory training that all personnel are required to have, including mandatory PT hours, and have been as much a part of change—improvement—as possible. I worked my way through the ranks to assistant chief at my former department by being a damn hard worker and being invested in the department. I have five life-saver commendations and twelve for bravery.” Even if they didn’t believe my words, maybe they’d realize my work ethic .
“I’ve been on the front lines. I’m not here to make your lives miserable. I’m here to support this department and make us the best we can be.”
From there, I dropped into a prepared speech about what my expectations were, ensuring them that I would not change their current operating procedures unless I knew of a better way to handle certain aspects, and I wouldn’t change things just to change them. By the time I got done speaking, most of the men had dropped their defensive posture.
“Now, if you’ll please do me the honor of introducing yourselves.”
One by one, they stated their name, where they were stationed, and their years of service.
Until that moment, I’d avoided meeting his gaze. He sat forward, forearms on the table, hands clasped loosely as he studied me. “I’m Mac Collins, captain at Station Four. Twenty-five years of service.”
I was impressed that he hadn’t once let that steely gray gaze drift down my body like it had the night I’d met him in that tropical beachside bar. Now, instead of heat in his gaze, there was accusation, disbelief, and a touch of hostility.
I nodded in greeting as if we hadn’t known each other intimately. As if I didn’t have a massive secret that I needed to share with him. Instead, I addressed the room at large. “I’ll stop by each of the stations over the next few days to meet the men and women on shift. I’m open to hearing what you feel our issues are and look forward to working with you to resolve them.”
The mayor took a step forward, placing himself a step in front of me. I stifled a groan of frustration. It was going to be a challenge working for this weasel .
“Well, gentlemen, that’ll be all for today. You heard the little lady.”
I bristled, and it took all of my willpower not to shred him on site. But eviscerating him publicly would gain me no favors. I’d have to bide my time and be strategic with the mayor.
“She’s willing to listen to ways we can improve, and the mayor’s office wants to support you. Within the bounds of the budget, of course, so don’t think this is an open invitation for a Christmas wish list.”
Masculine chuckles filled the room, though Mac didn’t even smirk. The captain propped at the back of the room, Thompson, pushed off the wall and stalked away. Captain Roberts, seated across from Mac, stared at my legs suggestively as he stood. He offered a handshake that lingered a touch too long to be professional and said his goodbyes. Another battle I had expected and had won before.
The mayor and administrator had already turned and engaged in conversation about a tax referendum meeting. I’d been effectively dismissed, and the whole thing stunk of good-old-boy politics, misogyny, and sexual harassment.
Mac, Captain Collins—I couldn’t think of him as Mac—pushed to his feet and met my gaze. Once again, the heat of it ran the length of my body, and I turned toward him against my better judgment.
No doubt about it. There was still some kind of powerful magnetism between us.
“Chief Hawkins,” he acknowledged before striding out of the room, the bite of my name lingering in the air.
He wore the standard navy-blue tactical pants that everyone else wore, but somehow, his cupped his butt in exactly the right way and molded to his thighs, leaving the impression that they were just as thick as I remembered .
And I was a terrible person for objectifying him, especially when I had just endured the same. I would not be the creep hitting on her subordinates.
Finally, the room emptied, and I pressed the back of my hand to my brow and sank to a chair to gather my composure for a moment.
“That went well.” Cathy’s voice broke my moment of silence.
I glanced up to find her leaning against the doorway.
She smirked. “Except for Thompson being his regular ray of sunshine and stomping off in hunt of puppies to kick.”
My jaw dropped. “He doesn’t…”
Her laugh was a twinkle that brightened the otherwise gloomy room. “No, Chief. I was joking.” She tilted her head as if pondering. “But you know, I don’t know what he does on his off days, so it still could be a possibility.”
I straightened and walked toward her. “What can you tell me about the others?”
I wanted—needed—information, especially about one man in particular, but I didn’t want it to seem like I was fishing.
“Not much to tell. You’ve got the best of the best for captains. They are all good men and have moved through the ranks.”
“What you aren’t saying is that I haven’t, and in their eyes, that might be a problem.”
Her head waggled in a nonresponse.
“Well, Cathy, just because I haven’t risen through the ranks here, doesn’t mean that I haven’t done my time. I have plenty of boots-on-the-ground service in Charleston.”
“I don’t doubt it, ma’am. But then again, I’m not the one you have to prove it to. ”
By the end of the day, Cathy and I had been through the budget, had a list of equipment—most of it needing to be upgraded five years ago, save the new equipment at Station Four—and a to-do list a mile long.
But first, I wanted to talk to Rosie.
Seeing my daughter’s eyes in the man across the room had been unnerving. The sudden need to take her and run home was strong. It was too coincidental that we’d landed here, of all places, where her biological father lived and worked. Yes, I definitely needed to have a conversation with my daughter.
I dialed her number on my cell, and of course it went straight to voicemail. A glance at the clock showed three thirty. She wouldn’t be off the bus for another half hour at least.
Somehow, between now and when I got home, I had to piece together how this stroke of bad luck had happened and how I was going to handle it. It was just a matter of time until she found out the truth.
And I prayed that she could handle it.
I also prayed that he would accept meeting her once he found out the truth. But this was fine, just a small complication.
“Rosie, sweetheart? I’m home,” I called as I let myself into our new townhouse. The rental was nice enough. Good neighborhood, close to work, good school district.
Everything had moved so swiftly since Rosie tipped me off to the job opening and I had applied on a whim.
At the time, I’d been so relieved that everything had fallen into place. The job interview had gone well, and we’d found a nice place to live, just in time for Rosie to start her freshman year of high school.
Looking back, her overzealous attitude and total acceptance of uprooting our lives was… unusual. I’d expected some pushback over her having to start a new school, and high school at that. But my precocious daughter had been elated.
Now, as she be-bopped into the small kitchen and greeted me with a hug, I realized how completely she’d played me.
“How’d it go today, Chief?” She’d started calling me Chief instead of Mom the moment I got the job offer like she was proud of me. What I’d once considered a sweet sentiment suddenly seemed all wrong.
“It was a good day,” I replied, dropping my work bag to return her hug. Despite everything, she was the love of my life, and no matter the circumstance, we were in this together. I pulled back, cupping her face. “How about you? Did you have a good day at school?”
Her steel-gray eyes flitted away, and she pulled away from me, heading to the fridge, where she searched the contents for something to magically appear.
“Meh. It’s high school, I guess. Did they get you a car today?”
Rosie had started dreaming of driving over the summer, yearning for freedom while stretching every boundary I set. While I’d agreed to loosen the reins on her in safe situations, I wasn’t used to dropping her at the movies or letting her hang out unsupervised.
She was still my little girl, and I wasn’t ready for her to grow up. “Not yet. Cathy, my new assistant, tells me it should be here soon.”
A small squeal pealed through the kitchen, echoing off the bare walls. My daughter, so fiercely independent and ready to tackle the world on her own. Apparently, it was a given that if I had a department-issued car, she would get mine.
I kicked off my shoes at the table and plopped onto the couch. We didn’t have much in the way of furniture. Aside from her bedroom furniture, a couch, an oversized chair that Rosie had labeled her reading chair, and a small coffee table were all that we had managed to move with us. We didn’t even have a television.
I’d wanted a fresh start for Rosie and me after the divorce, but establishing a new home was expensive, and it was taking some time.
I propped my feet on the coffee table and relaxed.
“Don’t get so excited, sweetheart. You still have nearly two years until you turn sixteen. And we still need to check the state requirements on learner’s permit requirements and how long you have to wait after that to get your license.”
The refrigerator door slammed shut, the few bottles in the door rattling. “I know, Mom.” She plopped next to me, resting her head on my shoulder.
“So did you have to go all badass on anyone today?” She pulled my hand into hers, absently tracing the lines of my palm with the tip of her finger. Memories of another set of hands identical to hers, except more masculine, doing the exact same thing the night we met roared to life. Was it possible that they had the same soul? Now that I’d been face-to-face with him, I recognized so many similarities in their mannerisms. What I remembered of his, anyway.
“No, sweetheart. And I don’t think I’ll have to.”
Quietly, she traced my fingers, turning over my hands, fiddling with my rings, especially the new turquoise- and-silver band I’d bought to replace my wedding set. She had a matching one on her finger.
“Did you get to meet the rest of the department?” Prior to today, I wouldn’t have thought anything of her innocent question. But now… I had my doubts as to how innocent my daughter actually was. My heart broke a little.
“I met my captains.” Rosie tensed up beside me. A definite tell if I’d ever seen one. I continued as if I hadn’t noticed. “I’ll meet the rest of the crews starting tomorrow and spend the next three days meeting everyone.”
I pulled my hand from hers and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, snuggling her into my side. It wasn’t often that I got to snuggle my baby girl anymore. Resting my temple against her silky hair, I breathed in her scent, cherishing the moment. The floral shampoo she’d always used a familiar balm in a sea of unexpected events. “What about you? Did you meet some new friends today?”
“I met a girl named Shae. She seems really nice and had the prettiest braids. She sat next to me in art class.”
She plopped her feet next to mine on the table, playing footsie as she told me all about her new friend and her awesome art teacher. I wanted so badly to interrogate her, find out if my suspicions were accurate. If she knew about her biological father.
The week with Mac had been so much more than anything I’d ever experienced. The deepest connection, the most fulfilling experience of my life, aside from the angel I’d been gifted to raise.
“So this move has been a good one?” I asked. If I could just keep her talking, maybe she’d give me the opening I needed.
“So far, so good.” She tucked her head further into me, scooting down into the couch to lay her head on my chest. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to be extra sweet. But I knew my rebellious child. These snuggle sessions were rare, and she’d never extended them to get closer.
My Spidey senses were tingling. There was more to her story than she was letting on.
“What about you? Is this move everything you wanted it to be?”
“So far, so good.” I echoed her words on a grin. She’d tensed up when I mentioned my crew. I needed to explore that more. “My visit to the stations starts tomorrow, and I’ll have a chance to meet the rest of the department. But the captains were all nice. I felt very welcomed.”
“Were any of them cute?”
“Honey.” I leveled my gaze on her. “They are my subordinates. It doesn’t matter if they are the most handsome men in town, they aren’t for me.”
“Shae said they do this firefighter calendar, and all the guys in it are hawt.”
“You mean attractive.”
“No, I mean haaaawt.” She giggled, fanning her face as she drew out the word. “At least that’s what Shae sounds like when she says it.” We shared a chuckle. “So, are any of them in it? Maybe we should get a calendar just to make sure.”
I choked on air.
“Rosa Nell Hawkins,” I started when I could find my voice. “Young lady, you will not pursue this line of thought. These men work for me. We will not be ogling them.”
She sat up, whipping around to face me. “It’s for charity, Mom.”
If eyes could roll any harder, I’d be surprised.
“Anyway.” She settled back into the curve of my arm. “ Shae showed me a bunch of pictures from when the tornado came through. I checked them out.”
I let the silence ring, hoping she would continue.
“There was this one old guy. He was decent looking. He’d done some real hero shi—stuff during the storm. I was just wondering if he works for you. If, you know…” She picked at the frayed hem of her jean shorts. “Maybe you met him? You know, to find out if the stories were true.”
“Don’t think I missed that slip. Good catch on not cussing, by the way.” Honestly, this child tested my nerves sometimes, and aside from her tendency to cuss, she was a good kid. But good kid or no, we weren’t ready for the discussion she seemed to be headed for. So, like a big chicken, I hedged and made a mental note to do some research about the tornado.
“I haven’t had a chance to talk to anyone about it, but I’ll let you know after my station visits. How’s that?”
She didn’t like my answer but didn’t push.
“Tell me about the rest of your day, sweetie. You made a new friend named Shae. Anything else good happen?”
She pushed off the couch, gathering her backpack. “It wasn’t terrible. But I’m not sure about that bus.”
“What do you mean?”
Dragging her bag across the room and rifling around in it, she produced a handful of paperwork for me to sign. “There’s a crew of kids on there who make me feel sort of weird.”
“What’d they do?”
“They’re just… not nice. Made fun of some kids. Normal bullsh—stuff.”
“Good catch, again.”
She dug out a notebook and opened it to her agenda. My girl was organized and shared my love of planners and journals. I admired her profile while she shuffled some papers. She really was the best part of my life. She paused on a page, a frown marring her features.
“Okay, Mom, don’t yell.” She flipped a page up so I could see it. On it was a list of mandatory supplies.
I sighed because the absolute last thing I wanted to do was run to the store for school supplies. “Tell you what, I’ll drive you to the store, and you start filling out forms on the way. We’ll also stop and grab a bite to eat, because I’m starving and don’t feel like cooking.”
An hour later, we were headed home, takeout in hand, and Rosie was making her sales pitch. “Well, hear me out. I have to wait two whole years to get my license, and that’s going to suck. I don’t want to ride the bus with those jerks. I need some wheels. Besides, I could be finished with my homework way before you get home, and I could cook and have dinner ready when you get home if…”
I rolled my eyes. This was classic Rosie. No telling how long she’d been planning to make this pitch. Might as well let her finish before I shot her down. She tended to have off-the-wall ideas that she didn’t think all the way through.
“If you get me a bike.” She tossed the words out like she hadn’t been leading up to them over the last hour of our conversation.
“That’s actually not a bad idea.” At a red light, I gave her the side-eye. “When did you come up with this plan?”
“Today, on the bus,” she offered with the nonchalance of a teenager.
“And what made you, she-who-is-allergic-to-exercise, decide that riding a bike appealed to you?” I flipped on a blinker and turned into our complex. There was enough lighting that it felt safe. We had a two-story townhouse, and though there was no garage, there was plenty of space to store a bike for her.
“Shae rides hers every day. They have a great place to lock them up, and it’s out of the weather so they don’t get ruined. It’s less than a mile to the high school, and I can take neighborhood routes so I don’t get on the main road. And it’ll have me home, like, an hour sooner. And it’s faster than walking.”
She really made a good argument, and I didn’t blame her. I hated riding the bus when I was a kid. Plus, if we got two bikes, it would be something we could do together.
“Bonus, if you get a bike too, there’s a cool bike path on the other side of town, and it’d be something we can do together.”
My kid was a damn mind reader.
But she made some valid points, and I was willing to consider it. “Okay, you little psychic, we’ll check into it this weekend.”
She bolted out of the car, plastic bags rattling. “I can’t wait to tell Shae.”
I locked up the car, swallowing my emotions. My little girl was growing up, spreading her wings. Pretty soon, she would fly from the nest. And I wasn’t ready for that part of my life to change.
And on the heels of that thought, an overwhelming sense of guilt clouded in. How much disservice was I doing by keeping the truth from them? I really owed it to Mac, and to Rosie, to introduce them.
I had tried to find him. But with not even knowing his full name, nor where he was from, even social media was a bust. And Tim had been such a good father in the beginning, I’d been selfish and taken the easy option out. Tim had known about Rosie and had chosen us anyway, so there was no need to dig deeper—to make things harder. Even if I felt crushing guilt that Mac may have wanted to know his daughter. What if he’d been alone in the world all this time, and I’d cheated him out of her love?
Now it seemed my choice to stop looking for him was rearing its ugly head. I just prayed the consequences wouldn’t destroy us all.