7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Brandy
The walk to the chief's office felt like the walk to the principal's office in seventh grade when Melissa Kowalski and I got caught for the fifth time that hour passing notes.
I'd like to point out that was the one and only time I'd been in the principal's office.
And technically it was all her fault, not mine.
Unconsciously, my hand rubbed my left ass cheek where my dad had swatted me when he got home from work.
Stupid principal didn’t really need to call him at work.
Cap fell into step beside me the moment I left the kitchen. He walked at my left hip like a four-legged security detail who'd been assigned to me without my knowledge. He was taking the job seriously.
“Are you here for protection?” I asked him quietly, patting his head. “Or support while I deal with your owner?”
The crew's “ohhhhhh someone's in trouble” was still echoing in my head as I stopped in the doorway of Nick Carson's office.
It was exactly what I expected. Neat and organized, a no-frills desk that didn't have a single thing on it other than the necessities.
No plants, no frills, nothing exciting or personal. This office was, in a word, boring.
He was already seated, looking at something on his computer screen, and he looked up when I spoke.
“A voice from above said you wanted to see me,” I said, smiling.
Kill him with kindness. Even if it kills you.
Something moved across his face, not quite a smile but perhaps in the neighborhood of one. Maybe.
“Please come in and have a seat.” He gestured to the chair across from his desk, then looked at Cap. “Cap. Bed.”
Cap looked at me, looked at his bed, then looked back at Nick. Figuring that his owner meant business, he walked to his bed and flopped down with a sigh so heavy it had to have come from the pads on his paws. It was as if he was saying, here we go.
I sat with my hands folded and waited. This was his home turf and I wasn't about to feed him more fire by jumping in first. Let him start.
Let him say what he'd summoned me here to say.
I'd been in enough boardrooms with enough Gary-adjacent men to know that sometimes the smartest thing a woman can do is let the wannabe alpha go first.
He looked at me for a moment. “Ms. Wilson.”
“Brandy.”
A pause. “Brandy.” He nodded slightly and said it like he’d just done a shot of vinegar.
“You’re probably not aware, but in the fire service we have traditions.
These traditions exist for a reason. They mean something to us because the firefighters who come after us deserve to inherit something solid.
Like we did when we started.” He leaned forward slightly, placing his forearms on the edge of his desk.
“Safety Week is a time-honored tradition for this department. It has been for years. We have the same format to achieve the same purpose, educating children on the importance of safety. And because we stick to our traditions, it works.”
I nodded, letting him finish.
“It. Works.” He said it again in case I'd missed it the first time.
“I'm not breaking a tradition,” I said. “I'm adding one.”
“SummerWEEN.” He shook his head. “It's silly, there’s nothing serious about it.”
“It's no different than HalloWEEN.” I looked sideways at him. “Other than horror movies, those are pretty serious.”
He blinked twice. “Safety Week already incorporates fun,” he said, recovering. “It's not just lectures.”
“Tell me,” I sat back in my chair. “What kind of fun?”
He in turn sat up slightly. “The hose drags. Kids pull a real hose through a course. The hoses are heavy, and they make quite a spectacle of trying to move them. We have a police representative come and fingerprint them, then the kids make books of their own prints. We also have animal prints set up all around the station, and they track them, figuring out whose is whose.” He said it with what sounded like pride.
“Our escape-plan exercise is where they learn how to make one for their own home. We have them practice climbing out of a window display. That's always very popular with the kids, as well as the trucks. They climb on the trucks, sit in the cab. We don’t want them to be scared should they see one in action.” He looked at me. “See? That’s all fun. Educational fun.”
Honestly, it was okay, but just okay.
“And what do kids who have been to Safety Week before do?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I don't understand your question.”
“The kids who have been to multiple Safety Weeks, what do they do? They've figured out how to get the hose through the course. They've identified the animal prints. They've climbed the trucks. Other than their mothers wanting updated fingerprints, what's to bring those kids back?”
Chief Nick sat for a moment, looking at me, so I continued.
“Don't get me wrong, I'm sure they have fun. But explain to me why,” I said, “is adding MORE fun a bad thing?”
“Because you're adding silly fun. Not serious, educational fun.”
I looked at him in his firefighter T-shirt, with his muscles stretching the shirt's armholes. His set jaw and his furrowed eyebrows with the little wrinkles at the sides of his eyes. The telltale signs of gray hair popping through the lovely dark brown.
Why is someone that handsome such a jerk?
“Nick,” I said deliberately, and he hit me with a look that could not only have stopped traffic but caused it to U-turn and head back the way it came. “I see the importance of Safety Week. I'm in no way trying to make it a joke. I need you to believe that because I mean it.”
He studied me for a moment as if he were having an internal debate about my sincerity.
“Good,” he said finally. “No Summerween event.”
I actually had to replay that sentence in my head.
Damn, the girls were right. He's a giant stick in an ocean-sized mud puddle. Good thing I like a challenge.
“Excuse me?”
“You said you were in no way trying to make it a joke. So, that means we’re not having the event.” Nick picked up the receiver of his phone. “Shall I call the mayor, or would you like to tell him?”
“We’re having the event.”
“No, we’re not. Safety Week isn’t a silly event, so adding one to it doesn’t make sense. Therefore, no summer, whatever you called it, weenie was it? Now are we on the same page?”
I stood up. “I'm sorry, Nick,” I kept my voice pleasant, no matter how badly I didn't want to. “We are not on the same page. We’re not even in the same notebook.” I crossed my arms. “We WILL be having the event.” I looked at him directly.
“And what's more, I'm making it my personal mission to not only include you in it but to make you love the idea.”
Silence. Then Nick Carson did something I did not expect. He laughed, and not a polite, humoring-me one. An actual, genuine laugh, which made him all the more attractive.
“Good luck with that, Brandy,” he said, still smiling. “Make me love it, ha, good luck with that.”
I smiled a snotty smirk back, spun on my heel, and landed flat on the floor. Cap flew to me, covering my face with kisses. Nick was around his desk and over to me as fast as Cap was.
“Are you alright? Don't move. Sit here for a moment.” His experienced hands were pressing on my ankles and calves. “Does this hurt?”
Thank the dear Lord I shaved my legs.
“No, no, I'm alright.” I tried to stand, but between Nick and Cap I couldn't go anywhere. “Really, I'm fine.”
“Cap, sit!” Nick commanded him. Instantly the dog sat down, but he kept his eyes on me.
“What happened?” I heard a female voice ask. I peered up and saw Jo and Thompson in the doorway.
“She/I fell,” Nick and I said together.
“Do you need an ambulance?” Thompson asked, now at my side.
“Is anything broken?” Jo squatted next to her chief.
Lucky me, the three firefighters had kicked into their life-saving measures.
“I'm fine; my shoe just slipped.” I explained. “Nothing hurts, other than my ego. I can stand.”
“Alright,” Nick took my hand in his firm grip. “Let's get you up and standing. Careful, don't go too fast.”
Once I was standing, all I wanted to do was bolt from the room and go hide in my car.
“Do you feel dizzy?” Jo asked.
“Does anything hurt?” Nick asked, looking me over in a way that made my face heat up even more than it already was.
“Her face is flush,” Thompson pointed out.
Thank you so much for pointing that out, jackass. I tried to play it off, shaking my head. “I'm embarrassed.”
“Are you sure you're alright?” Nick's concerned face was inches from mine, his hands on my shoulders.
It dawned on me that this was the most a man had touched me in years. Damn, this is more foreplay than I got from Gary.
I blinked, and quietly answered him. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Okay,” he removed his hands. “Good.”
Jo cracked up laughing. “Guess that's what happens when you're new to flats, huh?”
“Smart ass.” I said, which caused Nick to chuckle.
“Looks like she knows you.” He said.
“That's because it takes one to know one,” Jo dished back.
“Touché,” I winked at her.
“Why don’t you walk her to her car,” Nick told Jo. “Just to make sure she’s alright.”
I patted Cap on the head. “Thanks for the help, big guy.” His tail thumped the floor. I looked at Nick. “You too, thank you.”
He nodded. “I'm glad you're alright.”
Jo and I, escorted by Cap, made to leave his office as he went back to his chair. I stopped at the door, Jo and Thompson ahead of me. Holding the doorjamb so I wouldn't give a repeat performance.
“I meant what I said. We are having the event, and I will get you on my side.”
He eyed me, the look of a man who acknowledged a challenge. “And I meant what I said, good luck.”