The Firefighter's Cinderella

by Dominique Burton

  Stewart was about to call her parents on the house phone.

  “Are they still insisting you communicate this way?” She gave him a look of astonishment.

  “I follow instructions, miss.” The man had served her family for so long. Once she had even offered to pay him off so he could retire or do something else with his life.

  She remembered the look he’d given her. “What would I do? How would your parents manage? Now you run along, and thank you for worrying about old Stewart. I’m perfectly happy.”

  He just didn’t seem to care. She chalked it up to familiarity. Nobody liked upheaval. That was something she’d learned this week all too well.

  “Is my stuff heading to the penthouse?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “With the man who was in my room earlier?”

  “Yes. Your mother was delighted when Captain Powell showed up this morning. She gave him and his friends the key, and directions to the penthouse.”

  “She really gave Captain Powell the keys, when she knew I had movers coming?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve got to call and cancel the truck.”

  “Already done, miss. I took care of it myself.”

  She smiled at the butler. “Thank you.”

  She knew firefighters were strong and fast, but this was crazy. Not one to waste time herself, she ran up to her old bedroom to grab her purse so she could catch up with the truck. While she was inside, she heard a knock on the door. She turned and saw C.J. poke his head into her lavishly ornate childhood bedroom. It was here she’d dreamed of a prince and how he would rescue her.

  As she grew older, she’d learned she would have to save herself. But this morning her Prince Charming had come. Tash? You’re going crazy.

  “Are you ready to go unload before the boys start throwing things anywhere they want?”

  “Yes. Um…you could have given me a heads-up.”

  “Then I wouldn’t have been allowed to help. Benny, you’re a loner who never lets anyone in. I wanted to show you we firemen are a useful bunch. We don’t take axes and picks to a roof unless we have to.”

  “I know. You guys are good at pranks, too. Any more confiscated firecrackers in the shower lately?”

  C.J. laughed. “I thought you weren’t listening.”

  “Oh, I was listening, and thinking of that poor kid who’d probably saved a year’s allowance to buy them. And what happens? You and Tim take his stash for pranks! Buying fireworks is illegal, if you recall.”

  He grinned. “But confiscating them during a safety check isn’t.”

  “You’re full of it, C.J.”

  “Maybe, but it made you laugh then and you’re laughing now.”

  She couldn’t hide it. “We need to go. Who’s driving?”

  “Me,” he exclaimed as he helped her out the door.

  By the time they reached the penthouse, his buddies had unloaded everything in the extra bedroom, as per her parents’ instructions.

  As the guys left, she thanked each personally. It touched her that they were willing to help her, all because she was a friend of two special firefighters. Their brotherhood was unique.

  The last man gave her a brief hug. “Sorry about the loss of your condo.” It made her eyes a little misty. “My wife and our four kids lost our house six months ago. Even if your fund is just for cancer victims, C.J. got Tim’s parents to make an exception for me. My daughter, you see, has bad asthma and needs good housing. Your fund, along with the insurance and a little money from my parents, helped us get a down payment on a new house. So thanks.”

  He left before she could say anything, but what he’d said brought back a surge of memories and spawned some new ideas. Tasha decided she needed to make some amendments to the charity or come up with a new fund.

  She had so much. Others had so little. She could do it for Tim. She’d call it Homes for Heroes.

  “I can see your mind working overtime,” C.J. said.

  “Really?”

  “You’re already planning some new charity in Tim’s honor to help firefighters who’ve lost their homes, aren’t you.”

  “Am I that easy to read?”

  “Only when it comes to helping people less fortunate than yourself.”

  “I just hear his story and feel so bad. I need to do more.”

  C.J. stood there with his hands on his hips. “You’re always doing more.”

  “But it’s not enough. Take this penthouse for example. My family and I don’t need it. We could sell it and help a lot of people. But it’s not my money, it’s my dad’s.”

  “True, but that’s not the reason you’re here,” he said.

  “Then what is?”

  “I kept hearing you tell everyone how happy you were it wasn’t arson. The truth is, you would never have gone home to your parents’ place if you weren’t scared. You made the right decision, Natasha.”

  She looked around the masculine apartment, feeling like a child again—because she was under her parents’ watch. “I’m going to miss my cat. I’d be really torn leaving him, except that Stewart has grown fond of my blue-eyed angel.”

  “Did you just call that cat an angel? He gave me one heck of a time when I pried him from under the bed.”

  “That’s because he was frightened. You just didn’t meet him under the best of circumstances.”

  “Or maybe it’s just cats. I’ve had dogs run to me with their tails on fire.”

  She grimaced. “Well, from what I’ve heard, it won’t be too long before Fernando Mendez is taken in. That’s when I’ll move out. When they catch him.”

  “That could be a while, Benny.”

  “I know.”

  C.J.’s eyes were filled with compassion. “You have to move on before then.”

  “How?”

  “You’re allowed to mourn your house.”

  “I’m allowed, huh?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He started to walk away.

  Tasha caught his arm. “I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Thank you for helping me today. It would have been very depressing moving in here without you and the guys.”

  C.J. looked around the lavish penthouse. “I always found it strange that you and Tim could call luxury depressing. I’d be in heaven living in this place. It’s in the financial district of San Francisco. The view alone is mind-blowing. You can see trolleys, parks and famous buildings. Not to mention the marble and mahogany decor.”

  “Exactly. It’s all very manly. All meant to impress other businessmen or keep my dad in comfort if he’s too tired for the long drive to Nob Hill.” She spoke in a mocking tone.

  “You do a lot of good with the money you’ve inherited. Such as your pro bono law firm and the charity you helped create. What other amazing things have you been up to?

  Tasha leaned against the leather couch, pursing her lips in thought. “What else have I been up to? I don’t know. I’ve been busy, that’s for sure.” She settled down on the soft leather. “Besides the stuff you mentioned, I’ve been on a few dates. Nothing too serious.” She shrugged.

  C.J. sat down next to her. “Glad to hear.”

  “Thanks a lot. Now you’re wishing me a lifetime of spinsterhood.” She gave him a nudge in the shoulder.

  “No.” C.J. caught her hand, then started caressing it. “I’m just glad I don’t have any competition.” Her pulse quickened. “Anything else?”

  She turned to look at him. “You promise to not laugh?”

  He held his hand up. “Scout’s honor.”

  “Well, I’ve really grown to love yoga—”

  C.J. cut her off. “Can you do tantric yoga like Sting?”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. “I knew you’d make fun of me!”

  “No, I was asking you about every guy’s dream.” His gaze was steady.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ve always had a little thing for you, as I told you before, and now you’re tellin
g me about tantric yoga. It’s all pretty exciting.”

  In order to keep some semblance of control, she kept on talking. “I also enjoy running, and eating more vegetarian food.” What a stupid thing to say! “Enough about me, what about you?” His nearness was making her start to babble.

  C.J.’s voice was soft and husky as he talked. “I threw myself into my work. If there were double shifts, I took them. Wildfires were a haven. I basically did anything to get my mind off Tim.”

  C.J. pulled her into his lap. Tasha wrapped her arms around his shoulders and murmured, “It seems we both have been trying to escape our pain. Work and exercise were our balm. But, C.J., those fires are terrifying.”

  One of his hands slid up her back and drew her face close to his. “I think there’s a wildfire between the two of us.” Their lips met and she couldn’t seem to get close enough to him until his mouth opened and she learned what a real kiss felt like. Utter pleasure. Pure heaven. She never wanted it to stop.

  At last she pulled away. She needed to regain her equilibrium.

  C.J. didn’t appear too happy about stopping. He almost looked hurt. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing…I’m just not used to moving this fast.”

  She could tell the moment had passed, and C.J. had his defenses back up. But then he shook his head. “Benny, have you eaten breakfast?”

  “No. When do you think I had time to do that?”

  He chuckled. “How about I buy you lunch?”

  “Brunch would be great,” she replied. “Then I’ve got a load of stuff to do.”

  “So you’re just going to come back and work in this ‘depressing’ place all weekend? No time to play?”

  “Unlike you, I have a job where I don’t joke around all the time.”

  “Hey, I’ll have you know I haven’t pulled a prank in a year.”

  Tasha was immediately contrite. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. How would you know that once Tim died, I stopped doing a lot of things? They were mostly his ideas, anyway.”

  “I guess we’ve both changed.”

  “Yes and no,” C.J. murmured cryptically. “So what kind of work keeps you from having a fun night on the town, Benny?”

  “I can’t talk in here. Can we go get that brunch you promised?”

  She got off his lap and went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. The fridge was fully stocked as per her instructions. The modern kitchen full of stainless Sub-Zero equipment was sterile and lifeless. It looked like a showroom. Until C.J.’s amazing body entered the space.

  He moved closer. It wasn’t until she bumped into the counter that Tasha realized she’d been backing up.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  She did. His eyes were so full of emotion she could barely catch her breath. He drew her against his warm body, then cupped her face in her hands. “Damn, you’re beautiful.” C.J. brushed her lips with his. He pulled away slightly, then spoke into her ear. “Let’s grab it down by the wharf. Do you still eat fish and chips?”

  “On special occasions, yes.”

  “Who’s driving?”

  “Guess I am, since my car’s here,” she said.

  “You’re on.”

  FISHERMAN’S WHARF HAD always been one of Tasha’s favorite parts of the city. It was where tourists took launches out to the many islands, including Alcatraz. Every visitor wanted to get a shot of the Golden Gate Bridge, followed by a walk along the wharf.

  It was cool and cloudy with a gentle breeze coming off the ocean. The tang of salt and the smell of fish permeated the air. As they walked she noticed a family unloading fish from their morning haul. But her attention had swerved to C.J., whose black, wavy hair was being tousled by the sea breeze. In his white Bay City firefighters T-shirt and form-fitting jeans, there was no more exciting male anywhere.

  “So what was it like for your father, being a fisherman?” She knew this about C.J.

  “Hard work and worry. Lots of love,” he said with warmth. “It was scary if Dad didn’t bring in enough fish or crab certain seasons. He’d have to work more shifts to make the extra money.”

  C.J. grabbed Tasha’s hand as they walked along the wharf. “Jake and I would miss him something fierce, but Mom always kept up the morale around the house.”

  “Your mom sounds amazing.”

  “She is. I would say she’s a force of nature.”

  “Just like you.”

  He stopped and leaned against the rail as he gazed out to sea. “The worst was hearing about a boat going down during a storm. We’d pray it wasn’t our dad’s or that of somebody you knew. The hardest part about the fishing business is that people are close, so it was usually somebody Dad was friends with.” C.J. turned to look at Tasha. “I was just so grateful he always came home.”

  “I would have felt the exact same way. My dad just drove or flew to work.” Tasha reached out to rub C.J.’s arm. “Obviously, fishing never got in your blood.”

  “Nope, it never seemed to fit what I wanted to do with my life.”

  “Yet you picked another career that sounds equally dangerous.”

  He gave her a look that said he didn’t want to talk about it. “Race you to the food kiosk.” There was a glint in his eyes.

  They ran the whole way to City’s Best Fish ’n’ Chips. He let her win, even though she knew how competitive he was. He’d been top of his class at the academy, and from what Tim had told her, he’d had top grades in college.

  He walked up and gave her a high five. “Good one. You’re fast. I can’t believe you beat me.”

  “You’re full of it.”

  “Well, I admit I’m good at running. I’m even better in—” But she put her hand on his chest before he could finish his sentence. “I was going to say I’m even better in races. Where is your mind?”

  She ordered their food and paid for it, then they stood watching the boats coming in and out of the harbor. It made a beautiful picture.

  “Hey, fellow civil servant of the state…how about making yourself useful?” C.J. grabbed both trays and followed her as she made her way over to an empty picnic table. He began to pull out his wallet to pay his part.

  “What are you doing?” Tasha asked.

  “Paying, as a gentleman does on a date,” C.J. answered.

  “No! I won and I’m paying,” Tasha insisted.

  “You didn’t win.”

  “Yes, I did.” She smiled sweetly.

  “That’s because I let you,” C.J. retorted.

  “And your problem is?”

  “You’re as competitive as I am.”

  She laughed. “Okay. If it makes you feel better.”

  “Oh, it does. And you know what else makes me feel better?”

  “What?”

  “That at least I’m not in the same profession as my dad.”

  He was teasing, and Tasha picked up one his fries and threw it at him. “You are such a jerk.” She paused, then said, “My father and I don’t practice the same kind of law. At least your dad is proud of you.”

  “Tash, what in the hell are you eating?” He’d abruptly changed the subject, causing her to wonder what had gone on in his past that was too painful for him to talk about.

  “My version of fish and chips.”

  “It looks terrible.”

  “That’s because I didn’t get fries.”

  “But a fruit cup?”

  “I have to counter the greasy fried fish with something. The weight I lost didn’t come off magically.”

  “Well, you always were a looker.”

  His comment caused her to reflect on the man she was spending time with. She still had a hard time believing he’d always thought she was attractive.

  C.J. studied the water. “I love coming down to the harbor. Sometimes I get a little homesick. Mostly I miss the smell of the ocean up in Alaska, where it’s pure and untouched. That’s where the best fish and chips are.”

  “Really?”

  “
Yeah, but enough ruminating aloud.” He turned to her. “What was it you couldn’t talk to me about at the penthouse?”

  “My work.”

  He nodded. “I figured. And?”

  “Tonight there’s a place I want to show you that no one knows about. If something were to happen to me, you’d be able to show it to the D.A. They could help the IAs—illegal aliens—and it would give them more proof in order to indict Mendez.”

  C.J.’s countenance turned grave. “Why don’t Richard or Daphne know about this place?”

  “It’s for their safety. If we are being watched and something happens, I want all the blame to fall on me.”

  “This is too dangerous, Natasha.”

  “Then I won’t take you.”

  He lowered his head. “Why are you willing to show it to me?”

  The wind had picked up, causing her ponytail to swat her face. “Since Tim died, you’re the only person I can trust. We’re good friends. I know you would never divulge this to anyone. These people I represent deserve to be heard, even if I don’t survive.”

  “What about you? I care if you survive.”

  “Do you really mean that?”

  “After all the years and times we’ve spent together, how can you even ask me that?” He sounded angry.

  “I—I don’t know,” she stammered.

  She heard his sharp intake of breath. “By now I hope you don’t think of me only as a friend, because if you do, I need to know now.”

  Tasha could hardly swallow. “I have feelings, but I’m scared, C.J.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause we’ll see this through together.”

  She wanted to believe that. But they had only just started seeing each other again and it had just barely turned romantic.

  “Tell me the plan,” he said.

  “Well, it requires an overnight trip up to Yountville in wine country. I own a place there and I can explain the rest as we drive.

  “I’d like to see what you do,” he said. “Frankly, I’d like to see you in action.”