I’d never call Roman a pixie, at least not to his face.
“So, Abby,” Chiara says, “you’re the new recruit, right?”
I nod, still chewing. “Yep, been on the job for all of two weeks.”
“How are you finding this guy as a boss?”
I avoid looking at him, though my awareness of his presence has risen by several notches now that we are in the company of others. I have to fight every instinct not to run my eyes over his painful beauty, and that effort is costing me heartbeats and substantial peace of mind.
“Could be worse,” I say diplomatically.
“Don’t know about that. He was so bossy when we were kids—”
“And you caught up real quick,” Roman says.
Lena turns to me. “It’s true. Aunt Chiara likes to order people about.”
“Defamed!” Chiara points a fork at the resident baker. “I am sweetness and light, kind of like this cake. Good job, favorite niece.”
“Only niece,” Lena returns with a grin.
I snag Roman’s gaze and try not to get caught up in that soft pride he wears as he regards his family. I give myself three seconds to enjoy it but I retreat too late. He catches me again, sending my body into a heated glow.
I search for something to cool me down. How about the comedy stylings of B-Platoon? “Did you hear about your dad and the boar?”
Lena’s eyes light up. “There was a boar?”
“Oh, yeah. Your dad got stuck on a ladder trying to escape from it.”
“Hello, I was trying to protect you on that ladder.”
I smile up at him. “Sure you were, Lieutenant. More like trying not to get eaten.” I turn to my captive audience. “This guy on the West Side had a boar in his backyard, but really the boar had him. It bit him and chased him up a tree.”
“Then chased us up a tree,” Roman adds in that laconic way of his.
We spend a couple of minutes regaling the crowd with the Tale of Betsey the Boar, taking it in turns to describe the CFD’s valiant efforts to corral it.
“Thought we were done for …”
“Never seen Gage Simpson move so fast …”
“Think bacon will be on the breakfast menu tomorrow …”
And so on, until Chiara and Lena are laughing their heads off, and I realize something like twenty minutes has passed.
Happy that I’ve managed to overcome any awkwardness in the presence of the man I have a serious hard-on for, I place the cake plate down on his desk. “I’d better head back to work. I have a truck to clean.”
“Orders from your meanie boss, I suppose.” Chiara smiles at me. “Nice to meet you, Abby.”
“You, too.” I hold out a fist bump for Lena. “Good talking to you, Lena. Thanks for the cake.”
She gives me a light tap back and nods, her mouth still full.
“Lieutenant.” I offer the hey-co-worker chin jerk to Roman and leave, feeling weirdly honored to have been part of that for a few lovely moments.
Fourteen
Roman
I try my damnedest not to look at Abby as she leaves my office, and I assume I’m doing a pretty good job until I clash eyeballs with my sister.
“She seems nice.”
“Sure, she’s a good candidate.”
“Candidate for …” She leaves it hanging and gives me that knowing look I understand so well. “Hey, Lena, we should rinse these plates off and leave the cake for the rest of the crew. Run along to the kitchen and I’ll follow.”
“Okay, though I assume ‘we’ means ‘you’ in this case.” Lena stands and hugs me. “I know when Bossypants wants to talk with you alone.”
I hold on to her, glad that she’s still showing me affection. She’ll start to see me as the enemy soon enough so these moments are ones I cherish.
“See you tomorrow, fragolina. And thanks for the cake. Another winner.”
Chiara blinks at me once Lena has left. “What’s with you and the probie?”
“We call them candidates here.” Ignoring the meat of her question, I run a hand over my mouth, which is about the guiltiest I can possibly look.
“She’s cute, funny, and seems like a tough cookie. Pretty awesome combo.”
I don’t need anyone telling me how great Abby is. “She’s the daughter of the CFD Commissioner, so I need to watch her ass like a hawk and ensure nothing happens to her. It’s like having a British royal on my crew.”
Chiara opens her mouth but I strike first.
“Why were you crying?”
“What? No, just—” She deflates right before my eyes. “Devi met someone in Paris.”
“Fuck, really?”
She nods and then next thing I know she’s in my arms, sobbing into my shoulder. I knew things were tricky between them but I figured it was the pressure of long-distance and that it would work itself out.
“She wants a divorce.”
I close my eyes and hold even tighter. I know this pain and I would never wish it on anyone, except maybe the asshole who slept with my wife and my good friend who covered it up, both of them colleagues at my old firehouse in New York.
“You don’t think you two can figure it out?”
She shakes her head. “I—I don’t know. I don’t think so. She’s found this other person and even if she admits to making a mistake, she still thought this other person was better than me for a while.” Leaning back, she thumps her breastbone with her fist. “Than me, Roman! If that’s the road she’s gone down, where I’m not her number one, then fuck that noise.”
Her burst of anger seems to lift her out of her gloom. It’ll be a while but she’ll make it through, and I’ll be right there with her.
“Anything you need, pulce.”
She slaps my arm. “You know I hate that!”
“Why? It’s exactly what you are. An annoying little flea.”
She growls, affirming my sis is back, if only for the moment. Deliberately, she returns to her seat, places her hands together in her lap, and looks up at me.
“Now that ridiculosity is out of the way, we’re back to you and the probie. I felt this weird vibe between you two.”
“It’s nothing. It can’t be.”
Dark eyes go wide. Damn, my mouth is getting me into trouble again.
“Because she’s your underling? Some stupid fraternization rule, I suppose.” She twitches her nose, thinking it through with whatever weird logic she feels like applying to this situation. “But I’ve never seen you all cozy and flirty, finishing each other’s sentences. Not even with la diavolessa.” Chiara likes to assign demonic traits to my ex. “Is it because you haven’t had a woman in a while so this one you’re in close quarters with is getting you all riled up?”
“I’m not so desperate for female companionship that hanging in the firehouse with the only woman here has me foaming at the mouth.”
“So you’re a rock against the winds of temptation!” She thumbs over her shoulder. “Except when you’re not.”
This situation is too explosive for me to confide in a co-worker, and all my friends happen to work here. I need a woman’s opinion even if that woman is my sister.