Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Olivia
C athy knocked lightly on my office door. “It’s two o’clock.” The solemness in her voice did nothing to alleviate my trepidation.
I spun the ring on my finger and drew a breath, searching for the confidence I knew I’d need to face a room full of men who had it in for me. That was unfair. There was only one or two who might be gunning for me. But in such a small town, who knew which pockets might be lined.
On that chipper thought, I faked a smile. “Don’t be so glum, Cathy.” Truth was, I needed her support.
Mayor Smith had announced a called city council meeting. My actions, or inaction, the night of the courthouse fire were being called into question.
Or maybe it was that Mac hadn’t let go of me after taking down the arsonist-slash-kidnapper and had needed to have me within arm’s reach. Or the fact that he’d stood there in front of everyone with his arm around my shoulders, kissing my temple, lingering there as if he needed to breathe me in to remind him that we were all right.
Basically, Mac and I had both broken the rules, and the mayor thought he’d finally found a reason to fire me.
“Did you hear from the attorney?” I stood, gathering my paperwork.
“Not yet.”
Upon returning to work the day after the fire, after working with Human Resources to ensure that the injured men were sorted with the support that they’d need, I’d contacted an attorney of my own. I’d suspected that the mayor might take this opportunity to pull a stunt. So I’d dug up as much dirt on him and the city manager as I could and passed it along to her.
I went to the ladies’ room to check my appearance. I’d tried to cover the bruising from the few licks that Loren had managed to land but couldn’t do much about the still-swollen eye. It was my first look in the mirror that had softened my anger toward Mac. Half of my face was swollen, and a cut over my eye had bled profusely. I couldn’t blame him for being overly touchy once the fight had ended.
And if I were being honest with myself, I’d needed the comfort of his arms and had drawn strength from him.
But the fact remained that one—or both—of us would lose our jobs after this meeting. Even though the local news, both paper and citizen word of mouth, labeled us as heroes, one of us would have to pay the price.
The woman in the mirror before me didn’t look like much of a hero with her slumped posture and defeated expression.
Failure was a suffocating blanket on my shoulders.
I’d wanted to be a fire chief for as long as I could remember, following in my dad’s footsteps. Had I thrown it all away? Lost my dream job? Lost my chance to honor my roots and make my family proud?
I’d busted my ass for this place. This career. Had my weakness of needing to be with Mac in the heat of the moment cost me that dream?
There was some measure of peace in knowing that I’d made a difference in the world. I’d negotiated for better equipment for my crews. Hell, I’d saved my daughter and stopped a killer.
But that knowledge and those deeds wouldn’t get me a paycheck or benefits for Rosie. Who would hire me once it got out that I’d broken the rules.
Anyone would.
The words in my head sounded like my voice but held Mac’s strong attitude.
Where had the badass woman who’d been hired for this role gone? She wouldn’t stand and stare morosely in the mirror, cataloging all the ways she was wrong. Hell no. She’d catalog all the ways she was right and the system was wrong. She wouldn’t be defeated. She’d tell that cocksucker mayor where he could stuff his rules and blaze her own trail.
I squared my shoulders. I’d played by other’s rules for too long.
I reached up and grabbed the hair clip, releasing the severe bun I normally wore. Why was I minimizing myself? I loved my curls and didn’t like my hair up, but I’d taken to the style when I realized that I got more respect as a peer when I hid my feminine aspects.
And that was total bullshit. I deserved respect because I was a hell of an administrator in the fire service. I shook out my curls and fluffed them.
This mayor could kiss my ass.
This was my firehouse. They needed me. I’d done more for them in the few months I’d been here than anyone had in the last five years.
And whether these people liked it or not, they were mine, and I was going to continue to fight for them.
I turned on a heel and stalked out of the bathroom, wearing my cape of righteous indignation. Let these assholes come for me. I was ready to take on them and the rest of the world.
Municipal meetings were boring and uneventful unless there was an inflammatory topic on the agenda. I walked in with Cathy by my side and went directly to the front row, right where the council members and the mayor had to see me.
I made eye contact with each member as I got comfortable in my seat.
The meeting agenda included a mix of contract approvals, a financial presentation, and declarations.
Nothing about me or the fire dept.
Still, I didn’t trust that something wasn’t about to go down.
Beside me, Cathy leaned close to murmur in my ear. “I’m just making it look like we have a secret to discuss.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling. “Will Trina be here?”
“I’m not sure, I couldn’t get her on the phone. Hopefully.”
The meeting was called to order and moved forward with agonizing slowness.
The back door opened, and the click of heels could be heard coming down the aisle. A woman stepped in front of me and sat to my left.
“Sorry I’m late,” Trina murmured.
I smiled darkly at my kickass attorney.
Another agenda item was ticked off the list before the back doors opened again, and this time, the sound of a group entering interrupted the speaker. He stumbled over his speech as he looked to the back of the room.
I turned to see what the commotion was and had to fight against the tears that burned my eyes. All of the fire department staff filed in. Every last one of them, on duty and off. Taking up rows of seats, starting with the row behind me, until they filled them and lined the wall. They’d come together as a unit to make a show of entering as a team.
I wondered who was covering their zones and then realized it’d be okay. If they got a call, they were in the city limits and could respond quickly. And make a show of it while they were at it.
So what if they were late to the meeting. They’d made it known they were standing together and standing with me. I didn’t really care if they made a distraction. They’d shown up to support me, and that realization solidified my desire to fight for them.
I nodded to the few who braved eye contact with me. I wanted to search for a particular man, the one who’d held me close in the morning hours as I worried over the meeting. I wanted him to come sit beside me, stand with me as my partner.
But I also wanted to keep my job, so I turned my glacial attitude on and faced the council of men who held my employment in their control.
The atmosphere in the auditorium grew tense. A low murmur of voices lifted until the chairman banged his gavel, demanding order. The crowd grew quiet as the council moved through the agenda and finally called for any non-agenda items.
The mayor sat up to his microphone.
“I’d like to add an item pertaining to the events of October 3, the night of the courthouse fire.”
A ripple of activity rolled through the audience.
The clerk motioned for the mayor to continue. He cleared his throat and picked up his paper. I swept a hand down my uniform jacket to wipe my sweaty palms. Inhaling deeply, I squared my shoulders, prepared for whatever he was about to throw my way. Next to me, Trina practically vibrated.
“Now, we all know that the courthouse fire was devastating,” he began, his tone and demeanor reminding me of the few times I’d gone to church revival and been subjected to theatrical judgment. “The fine folks of this community have looked to the courthouse for nearly a century. The history that we lost that evening is incomprehensible.”
It was all I could do not to huff, because this man was such a showman with his downcast expression and melodramatic sorrow.
He looked solemnly at his audience, making a grave point. “But I’d like to also bring to light other events of that evening.”
“Here we go,” Trina muttered.
“On that awful night, the entirety of our fire department was battling the blaze that destroyed our fine courthouse. Except there was an obvious absence of leadership on the scene. Now, most people would assume that with something as tragic as this event, the chief would be on the scene and in command. But it has come to light that the newly appointed fire chief was not on scene. In fact, she left the scene, leaving a lower-ranking officer in charge.”
He peered up at the council, making sure he had their undivided attention, his expression horrified as if I’d committed the worst sin imaginable. No mention of the active shooter. Or the arsonist who set the fire.
“In addition to that, I have confirmation that the fire chief has broken city Human Resources rules and has instigated a relationship with said lower-ranking officer. Now, I can imagine how that officer might have felt, suffering the advances of his higher-ranking female chief.”
He made a show of moving some papers around on the podium before him, frowning with grave intensity before continuing his monologue. “I’d like to gently remind you fine folks, sexual harassment goes both ways. And our fire chief walks around taunting her subordinates with her… tight skirts and her high heels. It’s a grave injustice to expect the lower-ranking staff to remain steadfast to their committed duties when she’s flaunting her assets like a common whore.”
The silence following his speech was deafening.
The mayor preened. Oblivious to the undercurrent of hostility, he slipped his fingers into his coat pocket and puffed his chest out.
“Now, I realize this position falls under the jurisdiction and authority of the city council. But I’d like to make a recommendation to remove this temptation from the fine men of the fire department. I make a recommendation to remove the fire chief from office.”
A roll of murmurs through the crowd forced the council chairman to bang his gavel to regain control.
“Thank you, Mr. Mayor.”
I sat as still as I could, afraid to draw attention to myself. Afraid to look my people in the eye. I should be jumping up and down at the insane accusations and blatant ignorance the man spewed.
“Well, if that’s not the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” a lone elderly female voice piped up loudly from the back of the room.
“Mrs. Eunice, please take your seat.”
“I’ll do no such thing, Herbert,” she told the council chair. “I don’t care about your meeting rules, so just pipe down. Paul here is the one who is making private matters public. So I’m going to say my piece, and you’re going to listen.”
She passed my row, leaning heavily on her cane, until she limped up to the mayor and thumped him on the chest. “Sit down, Paul.”
“Who is she?” Trina asked from the corner of her mouth.
“That’s Eunice Whitaker,” Cathy said under her breath. “Founder of the Public Safety Foundation. Probably the scariest woman on the planet.”
“Now, let me tell you the truth about that evening,” Eunice began, thumping her cane against the podium to gain attention. “That night, a sorry sack of human set fire to our beloved courthouse. Then he popped caps, injuring some of the very men sent to battle that fire. That’s all on the bad guy who’s currently behind bars. But the real travesty. The real issue that Paul here isn’t mentioning is that the batteries in the radios that the personnel used failed. Why? Because the mayor cut the fire department’s budget. The former chief doled out contracts and bid awards to his buddies, and they purchased inadequate equipment. Now, normally, the Public Safety Foundation would happily provide grant support for these supplies, but the former chief declined any assistance because, and I quote, ‘the mayor was going to take care of them’ end quote from emails between myself and the former chief. To be clear, our Chief Hawkins was on scene, but due to Mayor Smith’s failure, she couldn’t do her job.”
The councilmen looked between themselves.
“Further,” she continued, “Chief Hawkins left the scene because her daughter was kidnapped. I’m sure I’m supposed to say allegedly here, but since I was a witness, there’s no alleging to it. I saw him with my own two eyes.” She banged the cane against the podium again.
“How dare you threaten to fire a woman for saving her child. Especially when that woman was also responsible for capturing the jackass who set that fire and the others. And as for her relationship and all that bluster… get over it. They have a child together.” She shook her head, brandishing her cane again. “We all know what happened before, Paul. If you don’t want your own dirty laundry aired, you need to pipe down and apologize to Chief Hawkins. If anyone is a whore around here, it’s you.”
Shocked silence rang through the room.
“Now, one of you fine young men help me back to my seat.” She motioned for the man nearest her to come assist, turning back to the microphone as they began to lead her away. “And Mr. Chairman, remember, your momma is my neighbor at the nursing home.”
As chaos reigned through the conference room, the meeting was ended abruptly, with no resolution, though I wasn’t so sure we’d heard the last of the mayor.
Outside city hall, Trina turned to me. “What just happened? I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. That whole meeting needs to be thrown out. It was totally illegal. ”
“Welcome to small-town politics,” Cathy said with a grin.
Trina’s eyes lit with glee. “I may have to come here more often.”
We said our goodbyes, and I watched as they walked away.
No matter what kind of disruption had happened, it was a matter of time before the council decided to act. I just knew the mayor wouldn’t let this go.
My crew didn’t deserve to be put through this. They’d had enough turmoil. My job was to be their support, not create problems for them.
A familiar pickup truck pulled up to the curb, the passenger window rolled down, and Mac stared back at me.
I didn’t want to give him up and separate him and Rosie. But we couldn’t continue like we had.
With a heavy heart, I walked to his truck and got in.