Firecracker: A contemporary romance

by Kelly Jamieson

  “No idea.” Mila now had Emma’s phone and studied the picture. “What I want to know is why unsolicited dick pics aren’t called junk mail.”

  Emma and Arden burst out laughing.

  Mila was swiping away at Emma’s phone, her forehead furrowed in concentration.

  “What are you doing?” Emma asked. “You’re not replying to him, are you?”

  “Yep.” Mila’s grin held a hint of evil. “Hang on.” She gave one final tap to the screen and handed it back to Emma.

  Emma’s eyes widened. “Oh my God!” Then she collapsed against the bar, laughing.

  Arden reached out for the phone to see what Mila had done. She saw the reply to the junk mail—a picture of an obscenely huge penis. “Aaaah! Where did you get that?”

  “I just searched in your browser and saved it. Gimmee.” She wiggled her fingers.

  Emma handed the phone back.

  The reply from the dude came quickly. WTF?

  Grinning, Mila sent another message, then held the phone up to show the second picture she’d sent. Arden and Emma winced, but Arden had to smile.

  Nasty! Was the reply. Why? I was nice!

  Mila tapped in a response. If sending dick pics is nice, I’m being nice too. She quickly sent three more pictures.

  STOP. Just leave me alone.

  Arden’s abs hurt from laughing.

  “There. He won’t bother you again.” Mila handed the phone back.

  “Um, Mila?” Emma lifted an eyebrow.

  “Yeah?”

  “What if I liked that guy?”

  Mila stared at Emma, her mouth open. “No!”

  “Kidding!” Emma collapsed into giggles.

  “Oh, you bitch. You scared the shit out of me for a second there.” Mila grabbed Emma and hugged her. “Well, that was the most fun I’ve had all night.”

  “You’re not having fun with us?” Arden stared at her in dismay.

  “Of course I am. And the dancing was fun. But I thought I was going to pick up some random guy for hot meaningless sex. And nobody’s interested.”

  “That’s not true. You’re the one who’s not interested.” A couple of guys had tried to talk to Mila and asked her dance, and she’d rebuffed them all.

  “I’m not good at this.” Mila set her elbow on the bar and rested her head on her hand. “I don’t know how to have meaningless sex. I’ve spent my whole life looking for a boyfriend.”

  “You’ll find another boyfriend,” Emma said.

  “I don’t want another boyfriend. I’m done with relationships. I give up on that. I’m taking it off my checklist.”

  Arden and Emma exchanged glances.

  “Okay,” Arden said. “Then you’re going to have to be open to sleeping with guys who approach you.”

  “I can’t sleep with just anyone. There has to be some attraction there.”

  Arden swallowed a sigh, because she understood Mila only too well. She wasn’t interested in any of the men who’d flirted with her either. Because she kept thinking of Tyler. And wouldn’t you know it, on a night when she had zero interest in hooking up, she’d been approached by one man after another. “I’m with you,” she said. “No relationships. Just hot sex.”

  “Yeah, but you’ve got Tyler for that. I’ve got no one.”

  Okay maybe getting Mila drunk hadn’t been such a good idea. She seemed to be sliding into depression, when the whole point of the evening was supposed to be to cheer her up with a little fun and flirting. “We should have gone to a comedy club.”

  “The Punch Line’s not far from here,” Emma said.

  “Let’s do it. We can still catch a late show.” Mila nodded eagerly.

  “Really? That’s what you’d rather do?”

  “Actually, I’d rather go home to bed.”

  “That’s not happening,” Arden said firmly. “Fine. Let’s go listen to some jokes.”

  “I was so ready for sex tonight,” Mila grumbled, out on the sidewalk as they headed down West Hubbard toward LaSalle. “I even took some of that stuff. Honey Pot.”

  “What?” Arden and Emma said together, heads whipping around to stare at Mila walking between them. “What is honey pot? Some kind of marijuana?”

  “No!” Mila laughed. “Honey Pot. It’s a supplement that gives your, um, secretions a fruity taste and a nice smell.”

  “You have got to be kidding me.” Arden’s jaw slackened.

  “Why?” Emma demanded.

  Mila shrugged, and to Arden’s horror, a tear trickled out of her eye and tracked down her cheek. “Garth didn’t like going down on me.”

  “You think it was because…of how you taste?” Emma asked, her tone laced with disbelief.

  “He sort of implied that.” Mila swiped at her face.

  “Sweet Jesus in the lap of Mary. Change of plans.” Emma stopped walking.

  “What?” Arden and Mila came to a halt too.

  “We’re going to Garth’s place, and the three of us are going to beat the ever-loving shit out of that motherfucker.” Emma’s jaw set.

  “Much as I love the idea…no.” Arden linked arms with Mila and started walking again.

  “I want to,” Emma muttered. “Jesus Christ.”

  “I hear you,” Arden said. “Mila, you have to know that was his problem, not yours.”

  “It made me self-conscious,” Mila said in an uncharacteristically small voice.

  Arden’s heart squeezed. “He’s a douchenoggin.” Of course, now she had to think about Tyler going down on her…how into it he’d been, how he’d told her he loved her taste, her smell, how he’d lingered there and made sure she came. God. Gratitude and appreciation swelled inside her. And a little heat gathered in her core, remembering how good it had been…

  “Women are scared of their vaginas,” Emma announced.

  Arden nodded. “I think that’s true. A while back I read about vaginal bleaching. Oh my God.”

  “Women are even having surgery to look better down there! Labiaplasty!”

  “It’s because of porn. Now not only do we need perfect breasts and a perfect ass, we need a perfect lady garden.”

  Mila snorted with laughter. “Lady garden! Ha! Also, guys apparently aren’t at all worried about their junk. As evidenced by the dick pics.”

  “See, that’s true!” Arden nodded. “And it probably has something to do with the fact that women still feel ashamed of being sexual.”

  “I’m not ashamed,” Mila protested.

  “Maybe it’s a subconscious thing,” Emma offered. “There still is a double standard for men and women when it comes to sex.”

  “The vagina is something we should be proud of,” Arden said. “It gives us so much pleasure, on top of the miracle of procreation. It’s…it’s the essence of our femininity.”

  “Right?” Mila nodded.

  “Women’s bodies are amazing!” Emma said.

  “Let’s love our vaginas!” Mila shouted, attracting the attention of a group of people passing them on the sidewalk, three men and two women.

  “Yeah!” One of the women in the group stopped to high-five them. “Love your vaginas, ladies!”

  “I’m enthusiastically pro-vagina!” one of the men declared.

  Amid laughter, they all cheered on vaginas, including the men, then Arden, Mila, and Emma continued on to the comedy club.

  “Where’s my whisk? I can’t find my whisk. Jesus, who took my goddamn whisk?”

  Tyler wrapped his arms around Arden from behind in her small kitchen. “Shhh. Nobody took your whisk. What’s going on?”

  It was the night before the breakfast she was catering for Jamie, and she was bouncing around her kitchen like she was the ball in a pinball machine.

  “I can’t find my whisk! How the hell am I supposed to make the eggs without a whisk?”

  “We’ll find it.” He released her and calmly opened the drawer where she kept her utensils. Moving aside a few spatulas, he located the whisk and handed it to her.

>   She dropped her head forward. “Thank you.”

  “C’mere.” He pulled her into his arms again and pressed her face to his shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Yes. No. I’m a mess. I’m freaking out.”

  “It’s going to be fine.”

  “I’m terrified. Something’s going to go wrong. I’m going to be totally humiliated and I’ll embarrass Jamie and his whole company.” Her voice quivered as she talked.

  Tyler rubbed slow circles on her back. “You have a plan,” he reminded her.

  “I know.”

  “What’s left to do? Can I help?”

  “The list is on the counter.” She gestured vaguely, not lifting her head. “I’m so nervous!”

  “I know. It’s okay. Nervous is good. We get nervous every time we go into a fire. You have to use that energy the right way.”

  “I don’t know how to do that.”

  “Sure you do. Let’s go through your plan.”

  “I probably forgot ten things.” She drew back and faced him.

  “Probably not. But let’s see.”

  The next morning, Arden’s alarm went off for a painfully early wake-up call. Bleary-eyed and foggy-headed, she didn’t bother getting dressed, stumbling out to her kitchen to start coffee. That was the first thing.

  As it brewed, she tied her unbrushed hair back in a ponytail, then got to work on the food. She’d done as much as she could the night before, but some things had to wait until morning.

  Her kitchen was bursting with food, her fridge barely big enough to hold everything, her counters covered with platters of wrapped baked goods.

  She gulped coffee as she worked, packing things into big insulated bags. Luckily, Jamie had given her a deposit, which had enabled her to purchase some supplies and the food without depleting her meager savings. She’d protested the deposit, but he’d convinced her by telling her most businesses wouldn’t do anything without some kind of deposit. What if she went out and bought a bunch of things and then he cancelled on her? She needed something to protect herself.

  Not that she was running a business, but that was true.

  She leaned against the counter with her coffee mug in hand, surveying things. Okay. Time to get herself ready. She needed to look professional when she took this all into Jamie’s office.

  Her apartment door opened and Tyler appeared.

  Her jaw dropped at seeing him.

  He was dressed in his work uniform—navy pants and a crisp, short-sleeved navy shirt.

  Why had she never seen him in uniform before?

  Sweet baby Jesus, he was gorgeous at the best of times, but now looking all authoritative and confident, he was panty meltingly hot.

  “Hey. How’s it going? Need any more help?”

  Holding her mug in two hands, she stared at him as he walked toward her.

  “Are you okay, babe?” He brushed a strand of hair off her face.

  She tried to gather her thoughts and ignore the clenching of her inner muscles. “Fine,” she croaked.

  His gaze dropped and lingered on her breasts. She was still wearing the ribbed tank top and cheeky panties she’d slept in, and her nipples were doing their best to push through the cotton. His eyes darkened. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You better not be going out like that.”

  She snorted softly, liking that she had an effect on him, because he had just destroyed some of her brain cells. “Nope. I was about to go get ready.”

  “Did you do this?” He held up the banana she hadn’t noticed he was carrying, a smirk on his lips.

  She grinned. “Yeah.” The other day, she’d taken a black Sharpie and printed on the banana: You put this banana to shame.

  He shook his head, still smirking. “You’re nuts.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “Want me to carry some of this stuff down?”

  “That’s okay. I don’t want to make you late for work.”

  He took the mug from her hands and gulped down some of her coffee. “Sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  He eyed her as if he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. He swallowed another mouthful of coffee and handed the mug back. He leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Good luck, Arden. It’ll be great. See you tomorrow.”

  Last night he’d totally busted her for being a nervous wreck. He’d calmly talked her down, making her go through her preparations to reassure herself that she’d thought of everything and had a solid plan.

  In her bedroom, she paused. Seeing him dressed in his uniform made her anxieties about this job seem trivial. He was about to go to work, where he could be called out at any time to a dangerous situation, a situation where he wouldn’t hesitate to put his own life on the line to save someone else.

  The uniform was sexy because it was a symbol of the courage and integrity Tyler possessed…his commitment to his career, his valor and strength. He was a superhero.

  And she was serving people breakfast.

  She wasn’t demeaning herself. All kinds of work were important. And she was proud of what she was doing. But it did help put things in perspective. What was the worst thing that could go wrong, for heaven’s sake?

  Well, she could kill someone with food poisoning…

  No! She was not going to think like that.

  She tugged her tank top off over her head and tossed it onto the bed, then shimmied out of her panties, smiling. It was all going to be fine.

  She dressed in narrow black pants and a white shirt, similar to what she wore to work at Shenanigans. It was boring, but she wasn’t being judged on her fashion sense for this job.

  It took several trips to load everything into Jamie’s car, and she had to crank the air conditioning up full blast as she drove to his office building to cool the perspiration that dampened her skin. Luckily she’d pulled her hair up into a bun.

  It was a bit of a drive to the building where Jamie’s offices were, off South Michigan and Van Buren. She had to make one stop on the way there, and that was at Screamin’ Beans, the micro-roaster she’d discovered at the farmers’ market. They imported fair trade coffee beans, roasted them in small batches, and ground them, and she wanted to show off the local business’s delicious coffee.

  She texted Jamie when she parked in the loading zone, and he and a few other people came down to help her carry the food and beverages up to the meeting room. The building was old, with scarred hardwood floors and exposed ducts in the ceiling, but had newly renovated offices with lots of glass and dark metal, and funky furnishings. The meeting room was bright and airy, with a wooden trestle table and black leather chairs, trendy suspended lights and big framed black-and-white photographs of Chicago architecture on the old brick wall. A credenza along another wall was ready for her to set up.

  “Hey, Arden.” Mila appeared. “This looks great!”

  “Thanks.”

  “Jamie,” Mila said. “We need to talk. BMN is on the phone again.”

  Jamie scowled. “Again? Jesus.”

  Arden’s eyebrows rose.

  “They’re persistent,” Mila said. “I think you need to meet with them.”

  “I’m not interested,” Jamie said. “We’ve talked about this.”

  “You haven’t heard their pitch.”

  Arden had no idea who BMN was and what they were pitching, but this was obviously a source of tension between Jamie and Mila. Come to think of it, Jamie had seemed stressed lately, which was unusual. Was he having some kind of problem with the business?

  Jamie blew out a breath and shoved a hand into his dark curls. “Fine, let me talk to them.”

  He and Mila disappeared out of the meeting room.

  “What can I do to help?” Jamie’s assistant Destiny asked.

  Happy to have extra hands, Arden gave Destiny directions about unwrapping and setting out food, coffee, and juices.

  “This looks fantastic,” Destiny said as she helped. “And smells great too. I’m dying here.”

  “Take a muffin,” Arden urged
her. “Or whatever. There are lots.”

  “Thank you.” Destiny’s heartfelt gratitude amused Arden.

  Jamie strolled back in looking at his phone. “All set?”

  “Yep. I’ll come back at ten to clean up.”

  He lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Smells good. And looks good too.”

  She smiled. She was proud of her presentation. Jamie had said it was fine to use disposable plates and cups, but she’d scouted out some really nice ones in black and white to match the StatTrakker logo, and she matched serving platters, chafing dishes, and utensils to them. Not required, but she’d also included a small black vase with a few stems of white phalaenopsis orchids at one end of the table.

  It did look nice.

  Now, she had a little over two hours to kill. She could go all the way back home. Or maybe do a little sightseeing, since she was so close to Millennium Park and some shops…not that she could afford to shop.

  Hell. She was pretty sure there was a DSW nearby. She could at least look at some shoes…

  “This so outclassed any other caterer we’ve ever used.”

  Arden smiled at Destiny a couple of hours later, back to pick up the things she needed to keep and clean up, although Destiny had pretty much taken care of that. “Thanks.”

  “People were raving about the food,” Jamie confirmed, strolling into the meeting room. “You did good, sis.”

  She beamed. “I’m so glad. And relieved.”

  “And people loved that it’s mostly local, sustainably grown food,” Destiny added. “That’s an excellent branding strategy, especially for this demographic.”

  Arden felt like she’d grown an inch taller. “Thanks!”

  “You’re good at it,” Jamie added. “You love shit like this.”

  Shit like this. She grinned. “Thank you. I do love it.”

  “You should have had business cards.” Destiny added the last of the leftover plates to a stack. “People were asking.”

  Arden’s mouth dropped open. “Really? Shit. I never thought of that.”

  “Really. I took their names and email addresses and said I’d send them your information. So, give me your email address and phone number and I’ll pass it on.”