The smoke detector starts screaming. Shit.
“What? Oh no!” Frannie gasps. “Our peppers!”
“I have no idea how that oven got put on broil, Frannie!”
Her mouth twists as she opens the back door to try to vent out the smoke and fumes. Another volunteer gets on a chair and pulls the batteries from the smoke alarm.
“We’ve got a big group here today. What are we gonna feed them?” Cathy asks.
Hunter’s suddenly in the kitchen with us. “I’ve got this,” he says while dialing a number on his cell phone.
My eyes narrow suspiciously.
Hunter
Everyone is enjoying their pizza and wings. Save one. Christina Rose. There were enough of Christina’s stuffed peppers not ruined that everyone got a slice, although not a whole pepper of their own, so I don’t know why she’s got such a sour look on her face. It’s aimed at me. She’s venomous. This girl has a serious chip on her shoulder.
Maybe I’m wrong to pursue this. Maybe I should be done with it. For some reason, she thinks I’m a piece of shit.
Because I have money? Because I have a bit of a reputation?
As the centre shuts down, I walk out, but I wait, leaning against the hood of her car until she comes out.
“Hey,” I greet.
Her eyes narrow and she gives her hair a flip as she passes me on her way to the driver’s side.
Fuck, she’s hot.
“Christina?”
“It’s Tina. Nobody calls me Christina. Though, never mind, because you don’t need to say my name at all. Off my car, buddy.”
I jerk in surprise. “What’s with the hostility?”
“Did you jack the stove to ruin that dinner so you could save the day?”
“What?” I look at her like she’s crazy.
She’s not crazy. That’s exactly what I did.
“You asshole! I knew it. I knew I saw you go in the kitchen with a look on your face like you were about to do something shitty.”
I roll my eyes, not sure how she sees through me. I’ve got a damn good poker face.
“For your information, you might think you made yourself look like a hero because you can call Pizza Pizza and drop two hundred bucks like it’s nothin’, but those people were really looking forward to those peppers.”
“Aw, sorry your lovemaking didn’t get the recognition you wanted there, Pumpkin,” I say with an exaggerated pout.
She glares.
I move off the car as she opens the door.
“We grew those peppers ourselves.”
I try to hide my reaction, but I fail. My expression drops.
“We tilled that soil, we planted those seeds, we watered those little plants until they turned into food.”
Fuck.
“And we were all excited about eating them. Because we grew them! And you fucking burned them into nothing so that you could be a hero.”
Shit.
I have no words. I know my face conveys my remorse. She doesn’t care. She’s surer now than she ever was that I’m garbage.
“I’m sorry, Christina. I fucked up. Made a bad call.”
“Tina! Don’t use these people and this centre for your agenda, Collins. It’s shitty. You’re shitty. And if you haven’t figured it out, I’m telling you one last time that you will never, not ever get into my pants.”
And with that parting shot, she drives away.
Christina — A week later…
It’s been a bad day. A bad week. Four deaths in the back of my ambulance in one day. Four. And deaths every day before that this week. Bad ones. I mean, death is never good, but sometimes it’s extra bad. Young people. Tragedies. Donald tells me it goes like this sometimes. Sometimes there are stretches where everyone makes it. Sometimes, it’s like this. It’s made me question whether or not I’m built for this.
When I saw myself in this job, I saw myself saving lives, making a difference. I didn’t see myself dealing with one death after another, after another. I didn’t see myself feeling this heavy in my heart, feeling this helpless so many days in a row.
My roommate pulls me from my thoughts by grabbing my hand. “Hey girl. Get gussied up. We’re goin’ dancing.”
I shake my head. “Naw, I can’t. I’ll just drag you down with this mood.”
“Teeny, come on… let’s go dance it out like they do on Grey’s Anatomy. It’ll help. Promise.”
“How will it help?”
“Give yourself a break. You do your best. That’s all you can do. You’ve saved a lot of people. You can’t save them all. Give yourself a goddamn break. Come on. Get off this couch. Go make yourself beautiful. Now! You’ve got one life to live. Live it!”
Uh oh. She rarely gets angry. She’s gonna dig her heels in on this. When my roommate gets her head set on something, it’s better to just go along with it.
The heavy bass thrums in my chest and maybe even through to my marrow as I give myself over to the music, the lights, the vibe, and the alcohol now coursing through my blood. I’ve had three shots and three cocktails and I’m a lightweight, so to say I’m drunk is putting it mildly. I feel somewhat tingly, but mostly numb, and it feels great not feel so much reality, instead to just feel the music.
I open my eyes and see expressive chocolate brown eyes on me. Messy blond hair. An expression that, for once, isn’t brimming with cockiness. Hunter Collins is leaning against the bar, a drink to his lips, something amber with ice cubes instead of the something red with an umbrella and pink sugar coating the rim, like I’ve been drinking.
I head toward him. As soon as I’m in front of him, he’s speaking before my finger is completely extended in an accusing point.
“I’m not stalking you, Tina, it’s just pure chance we happen to both be here at the same time.”
I shoot him with a finger gun.
He rears back, gripping his shirt over his heart like I hit the target.
“Like I believe you!” I hiss.
He shrugs, downs his drink and chews on an ice cube, taking his time doing it as his gaze peruses my short glittery silver halter dress, then my strappy stilettos.
He shrugs. “Common knowledge that my father owns this club. How do I know you’re not here to stalk me?”
I scoff. As if.
I peruse his body from head to toe. He’s wearing a suit. A black one that fits very, very well.
April is suddenly beside me, handing me another drink.
“Ooh!” I get excited. I lean forward and drop a kiss on her lips.
She laughs. “Ooh, playful Teeny. Me likey. Hey Hunter, you’re gonna love playful Teeny, too,” she says, licks her lips, winks at him and then promptly marches back to our friends on the dance floor.
I sip my drink. After the taste of the sugar on the rim, this one I note, has a slightly boozier flavour than the last ones I’ve had.
I shoot a dirty look over my shoulder at April. She winks and holds her glass up.
Whatever.
I turn back to face Hunter and run the tip of my tongue along the rim for a beat to get more sugar. And I realize Hunter’s eyes are on me and they are fiery hot.