Fools in Love(2)
Author: J. Sterling

 

You couldn’t begin to imagine the level of attention we firemen got just because of our occupation. Women flocked to us in grocery stores, stopped by the firehouse with “treats,” flashed us while we drove the truck, and stalked us on social media. They didn’t know a damn thing about us, but none of that mattered.

 

We were firemen.

 

Hot. Dangerous. Men in uniform.

 

But one day, it’d all changed for me, and I could pinpoint the exact moment in time when my mindset had shifted. It was after the city calendar had come out, and I was unofficially named the Fire Hottie of the Year, as my picture graced not only one of the months, but the cover as well. If I’d thought women were easy to come by before the calendar released, it was nothing compared to after.

 

And I’d never been more miserable in my life than I was during that time. Every bit of attention was based on how I looked—how big my arms and shoulders were, how chiseled my jaw was, how ripped my abs were. The females of Manhattan didn’t give a shit about my mind, my interests, my hobbies, or anything else. Hell, most of them didn’t want to even have a conversation with me. All they wanted to do was be able to say they got to fuck the Fire Hottie and take a selfie or two to prove it to make their girlfriends jealous.

 

All of the meaningless sex had grown old. Pointless even. And it’d made me question my worth.

 

I know; I sound like a fucking female right now, but being exploited twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, online and in person, eventually took a toll on your mental health.

 

Which was why I had absolutely no interest in perpetuating the shit show that was tonight’s bachelor auction. Cap could have chosen anyone else in the firehouse. He knew how much I’d struggled post-calendar publicity, so I wasn’t sure why he’d picked me out of all of the guys to do something as demeaning as this.

 

But again, I wasn’t allowed to complain.

 

“Ready for tonight, Mitchell?” my captain asked with a hard slap to the back.

 

I suddenly wondered if he was going to be in attendance to witness my humiliation in person. Why hadn’t I thought about that before?

 

I tried not to choke on the thought of him being in the audience. “Sure.”

 

“Don’t sound too excited.” He frowned.

 

“Oh, I am, sir. Incredibly excited to take some strange woman out for what I’m sure will be an overly romantic evening, where she’ll care about what I think instead of how I look,” I answered, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

 

“Damn, Mitch,” he said, shortening my last name for emphasis. “You don’t have to be so cynical.”

 

“Cap”—I reared my head back and gave him a look—“I’m going to be bought tonight. Purchased. Like cattle. Like I’m nothing more than a piece of meat to go on someone’s dinner table.”

 

“There are worse ways to spend a Tuesday night. Stop being a sissy and start being thankful,” he said, his tone forceful, before he walked away.

 

Thankful?!

 

Thankful for what? I thought to myself.

 

I wanted no part in this.

 

“Hey, Cap,” I shouted, and he stopped walking, so I knew he was listening. “How’d we get sucked into this anyway?”

 

I’d been here almost nine years, and we’d never participated in this kind of thing before. No one else in the firehouse had been auctioned off for charity in the past, so why were we suddenly doing it now?

 

He turned around, his dark eyes meeting mine. “It’s a favor for a dear friend. You will be on your best behavior and do whatever you’re told. And I do mean, whatever. Besides, she requested you specifically.”

 

“Why would she do that?” I asked, wondering if it was the curse of the calendar continuing to haunt me.

 

“The hell if I know,” he said before heading upstairs.

 

This was going to be the worst night ever.

 

 

 

 

 

HERE GOES NOTHING

 

 

APRIL

 

I had no idea what to expect, but the event space I walked into wasn’t it. It was gorgeous—dare I say, classy even. Floral arrangements filled the room, candles were glowing, and twinkling lights dotted not only the trees that had been brought in to mimic a miniature Central Park, but they were also spread throughout all of the decor—from the multiple bars to each entryway and exit.

 

There was a large stage, obviously, for the guys to eventually strut their stuff all over, and seating was set up all around for what I assumed would be a plethora of screaming women.

 

Do women scream at this kind of thing?

 

The chairs were pretty though with white tulle and overstuffed padding. It looked more like a high-profile wedding reception than what would be a bachelor auction. I wanted to smack myself silly. Of course this wouldn’t be some rinky-dink affair. My old boss was in charge of the event.

 

Speaking of, I noticed Sheila in the distance, laughing with some ladies as she sipped what looked like a glass of white wine. Her head tilted up, and I knew the second she spotted me.

 

I watched as she excused herself and started speed-walking in my direction as fast as her high heels would allow.

 

“April, darling.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You look gorgeous. What do you think?” she asked, waving a hand around the room.

 

“You’ve outdone yourself,” I complimented, knowing how much she thrived on words of affirmation. It was her love language. “It’s not at all what I expected.”

 

Her bright blue eyes scanned my face before a grin lit up her face. “And what did you expect? Some trashy number? You know me better than that.”

 

She mocked offense with her questions, but I only shook my head before responding, “I’ve never been to something like this before, so I was picturing more Magic Mike and less JFK Jr. wedding reception.”

 

Her smile suddenly dropped. “I always liked that boy. Tragic, losing him that way. And those poor girls.”

 

My mind instantly flashed back to all those years ago—when the city of Manhattan had mourned the loss of their golden prince. His death had cast a long shadow over the city that lasted for weeks.

 

“I see you have your number.” She changed the subject, tapping the auction paddle I held at my side.

 

I’d been given it upon check-in, even when I’d said it wasn’t necessary and that I didn’t need it. Apparently, everyone in attendance received one regardless of whether or not you intended to bid on a stranger.