Chapter 20 #2
“They thought we were too codependent, existing in a hive that prevented us from forming healthy relationships with anyone else.” I tilted my head to the side.
“And maybe there’s some truth to their concerns.
Until now, none of us has brought new people into the fold or even expressed a desire to do so. ”
“It’s because none of you have been ready,” Atticus said. “But you’re showing them what’s possible when you take chances.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, so I said, “Maybe.” Then I forked a bite of macaroni salad and held it up for Atticus to eat. “Good?”
Atticus nodded enthusiastically as he chewed. “Mmmm.”
I took a bite and had to agree it was excellent. “It seems you’re slated to have a much better afternoon than I am.”
“Really? Why?”
Atticus knew about the incident that occurred over the weekend since we were all together when Vaughn got the call about our security guard’s injury.
What Atticus likely didn’t know was that it wasn’t the resident’s first occurrence, so I brought him up to speed and told him about the upcoming conversation Caitlyn and I both dreaded.
“Woof. That is hard. I’m sorry.” He reached down and lifted the brown butter chocolate chip cookies we bought from the bakery yesterday afternoon. “Maybe this will make it a little better.”
“Dragging you off to a secluded spot is the only thing that will make me happy.”
I stole a quick kiss from Atticus before I accepted the oversized cookie. I broke it in two and gave half to Atticus. “Sexy time with you can be my incentive to get me through the day.”
“Good idea.”
Matilda and Marty showed up as we finished our lunch, providing us with cheap entertainment while we snuggled together under the shade.
It was too hot outside to be pressed so tightly together, but wild horses couldn’t have dragged me away from Atticus.
Besides, we were both headed into air-conditioned buildings and could cool off then.
I reached for his hand and laced my fingers through his on our way back to the main buildings.
I nodded at the few employees we passed on their way to lunch and clocked the cute smiles they sent our way.
Maybe handholding and canoodling at the pond wasn’t very professional, but fuck if I gave a damn what anyone thought.
I retreated to the sanctuary of my office after the meeting with the irate family ended.
The resident’s son, daughter, and their spouses had been apologetic at first, offering to cover the medical bills for our security guard.
I’d accepted their apologies and declined their offer before turning the conversation over to Caitlyn.
And that’s when it got ugly. The “oh my goodness” and “we’re so sorry” turned into “you must be mistaken” and “our mother would never do that.”
Caitlyn stayed firm, fair, and friendly, never losing her cool, even when the family raised their voices and made accusations.
I’d been ready to jump in if necessary, but Caitlyn hadn’t needed my help.
The family agreed to discuss the situation among themselves once they’d allowed time to digest the information.
They were in deep denial about their mother’s rapid decline, and I felt terrible for them.
By the end of the conversation, cooler heads had prevailed, and they reverted to using civil tongues and Southern manners.
They promised to get back to Caitlyn with a decision in forty-eight hours.
My ass had barely landed in my chair when an internal alarm rang in to the monitoring system. Bolting upright, I saw the flashing message on the screen and nearly lost my lunch. Smoke detected in the Arts and Literature building. Fire suppression system engaged. Fire Department Notified.
I pulled up the security cameras in the building’s lobby and saw smoke coming from the art classroom.
Jesus Christ. Atticus was hosting his watercolor class in there.
I saw no indication that the fire suppression system had kicked in, and if that was faulty, the direct call to the fire department might not have worked either.
One of the first things we did when taking over the account was to review all the safety inspections and protocols performed by our predecessors.
The smoke alarms and fire suppression systems were marked as inspected with no issues.
I never should’ve taken their word for it.
“Fuck!”
I jumped from my chair and ran from my office, dialing 911 on the way. A female dispatcher came on the line and collected my information.
“Are there people in the building?” Her voice was calm and authoritative, which was exactly what my panicked brain needed.
“I’m on my way to find out,” I said as I burst through the front door, hitting the sidewalk at a dead sprint. Up ahead, I saw a cluster of residents gathered a safe distance from the building where smoke billowed from the open door. “Did everyone make it out?” I asked when I reached the group.
“I think so,” Mrs. Cho replied. “Class has been over for a while.”
I searched the crowd for messy brown hair and hazel eyes but came up short. “Damn it. Where’s Atticus?”
“Who?” Mrs. Hastings asked.
“Kit!” I yelled. “Where is Kit?”
“Haven’t seen him,” Mr. Sanchez said.
“He was teaching the class, Rico,” Ms. Johansson said, turning to me with worry in her eyes.
“The building wasn’t on fire when we left, and the rest of us are all accounted for, including the guest instructor, Sarah Jo.
” She pointed to a lady with lavender braids as if I had time for introductions.
“She’s just been telling us about her latest art pilgrimage. ”
“Have you seen Kit?” I asked Sarah Jo.
The artist pressed both hands to her chest. “He was putting the art supplies away in the closet when we left.”
Not that motherfucking supply closet again. “There might be someone inside the building,” I told the dispatcher.
“Help is on the way and will be there within minutes. Don’t go—”
Fuck that! I disconnected and dialed Atticus. The phone rang in my ear and somewhere nearby. I whipped around, expecting to see the man I’d fallen for, but only saw Angus McNally, holding Atticus’s phone. “Hey!” I yelled, charging toward him. “Where’d you get that?”
Angus clutched the still-ringing phone to his chest. “Finders keepers.” Besides smoking in the worst places, had the guy turned into a kleptomaniac?
I needed to keep calm because Atticus needed me. I disconnected the call and tucked my phone away. “Did you see Kit inside the art room?”
“No. There was no one there. I ducked in for a quick smoke and found this cool phone. I m-must’ve dropped my cigarette in my excitement.” Tears filled the older man’s eyes, but I didn’t have time to console him. I eased Kit’s phone from his trembling hands and tucked it in my pocket.
“Do you know where the supply closet is in the art room?” I asked.
“Uh-huh. The door was open when I went into the room, but I closed it on my way out.”
I didn’t need to hear anything more. I turned and ran into the burning building.