by Regina Cole
He almost jumped out of his boots when his cell vibrated in his pocket on the way out of the mall. Kyle’s went off too, a clear signal that something had gone sideways on shift. They answered while on a dead run to the truck.
“This is Nate,” he said as he dodged a Chevy POS that was backing its way out of a parking space.
“You and Kyle still nearby?” Hunter.
“We’re at NorthPark, so yeah.”
“Meet me and Drake at the station and we’ll head out. Something went sideways at a one-alarm arson at the nightclub in Sparky’s neighborhood. Fireman down.”
“Shit,” Nate said, his blood running cold as he jammed his key into the ignition. He glanced toward the passenger seat as he yanked the belt across his lap.
Kyle’s face said what he was feeling as he nodded to whoever was on the other end of his own call.
Fireman down. The last time they’d heard that particular phrase was when Chaz had almost bought the farm those months ago, that little incident had caused him pain, surgeries, and months of inaction.
Who was on that shift? Names swirled through Nate’s brain as he weaved through the traffic on his way back to the station, Kyle silent as the grave beside him.
Abby. Dante. Wesley. Lucas. Forrest. Blake. Terrence. Andre.
Chaz.
Nate’s stomach flipped over and his fingers clamped tighter on the steering wheel. Shit, not Chaz. Nate had just got his friend back. If something had happened to Chaz—
“Abs is on shift,” Kyle said, breaking the silence. A red light stopped them, and Nate glanced over. Kyle’s knee was bouncing like it was having a dance party of its own, and not the fun kind. “If something happened to her—”
“Don’t borrow trouble,” Nate cut him off as he floored the accelerator. “Job first, then worry.”
“Yeah.” But Kyle’s knee bumped against the dash pocket, over and over again, the thumping sound an audible clue to his internal state.
Shit. This wasn’t good.
Their engine was on the scene only six minutes after they’d arrived at the fire station. Drake and Hunter were already in their gear, waiting for Nate and Kyle to suit up and head out.
“What do we know?” Kyle asked it before he was completely in the engine, which was already rolling out of the bay.
“Not much,” Drake said as Hunter punched the accelerator. “The fire itself isn’t that big of a deal. Clear arson, but it’s contained. But the chief called and said there were agents on site, and they’d pulled off half the crew for questioning. There’s a big wreck downtown, and an EMS call came in, so everyone else is scattered, and they need backup.”
“Who’s down?” Kyle’s question was terse.
“Chaz.”
Shit. Goddamn it, the guy had just come back. Nate cleared his throat. “How bad?”
“Didn’t say.”
Nate caught Drake’s gaze in the mirror as the engine took a corner fast.
The newbie’s expression was grave. He knew more than he was saying.
Shit.
16
Allison’s smile felt brittle as she shook hands with her client at the end of their day-long planning session.
She’d been off her game. Sure, the plans were there, and solid, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that something about her, or her business, was fundamentally wrong and she just couldn’t see it. She’d pushed extra hard to keep her strategies tight, to foresee any problems that might arise. Her client had even stopped her midway through her contingency plans for her contingency plans.
But she couldn’t shake the tension lining her shoulders as she held her office door open for the three gentlemen from Lone Star Financial.
Once they’d left, thanking her and calling holiday wishes as they went, she checked her cell phone. Two missed calls, a few texts, and an email from a client.
Frowning, she started to dig through the piled-up messages when the front door of the office opened.
“Allison! I was hoping you’d still be in.” Deb came in, arms loaded down with files and folders. She set them on her desk in the corner with a grateful sigh. “How did the meeting with Lone Star go?”
“Great,” Allison said. “They want to move forward with the plans. I got the green light for the project after the first of the year.”
“That’s good news,” Deb said, sinking into her chair and separating folders into piles. A glint came into her eyes as she opened one of the files and shuffled the papers, looking for something specific. “Are you sure you’ll have time to handle that, though?”
Allison laughed. “What are you talking about? You know I almost live here.”
“Well, that used to be true, but not lately. I just meant you might be on your honeymoon, is all.”
A cold, heavy knot settled in the pit of Allison's stomach as she stared at her assistant. “What do you mean?”
Deb clucked in a motherly way as her hands stilled on her pages and she looked at Allison knowingly. “I mean, you don’t have to pretend with me. I’ve seen how often Nate has been around. And you two look good together. There’s no shame in marrying again, even if it is right after your divorce.”
“I’m not getting married again. Why would you think that?”
Deb leaned forward. “I might be ruining the surprise if I told you.”
She wasn’t in the mood for games. Cold sweat was breaking out along her spine. “Tell me.”
“I was in NorthPark Center on my lunch break, picking up a few last minute gifts, when I noticed that my watch battery had died. I ducked into the jewelry store to get it replaced, and who do you think I saw picking out engagement rings?” Deb’s eyes glittered. “Nathaniel York. He was looking at a gorgeous princess cut diamond. I’ll bet he’s planning to pop the question. Such a romantic time of year for it, Christmas.”
Allison’s mouth had gone dry, her heart was slamming itself against her ribs, and her lungs refused to draw in air. She couldn’t believe it. Wouldn’t.
Nate knew. Of all people, he knew how she felt about marriage. About the way she’d been treated, duped, had. He’d known that he would have to take things slow with her, hadn’t he?
Oh god. Christmas Eve. She’d asked for time, but she hadn’t known that this was what he’d been planning. It made sense, though. Nate was traditional, sweet, and dependable. Of course, he’d want to get married at some point. The problem was that she hadn’t seen it coming, and couldn’t avoid it. Not only did he want to say those three little words, but he was adding four more that were deal breakers for her.
Will you marry me?
“Allison, are you okay? You look a little pale.” Deb stood and rounded the desk, the corners of her eyes wrinkling in concern.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure of what?”
“That he was—” Allison cleared her throat. “That he was looking at engagement rings?”
Deb tsked. “I shouldn’t have said anything. But he was looking at this gorgeous solitaire in white gold, and I know it was bad of me, but I snapped a quick cell phone pic when he wasn’t looking. Do you want to see?”
She didn’t. She really, really didn’t. But then Deb’s phone was in her hand and the proof was undeniable.
Nate was standing in front of a jewelry counter, and the sparkle of a diamond in his hand as he looked away, toward the clerk, was impossible to mistake.
“It’s so beautiful,” Deb said, an excited note in her voice. “I’ve always liked you two together. When do you think—”
Allison handed the phone back. “No. That’s—no. Did you need any help on the Childhood Diabetes account?”
Deb shook her head. “No. I’ve got things under control here. Why don’t you head on out? It’s almost closing time anyway.”
“Yes. Yes, I think I will.”
Numb, Allison walked back into her office. By rote, she shut down her computer, gathered her purse and leather laptop case, pulled on her coat.
She c
ouldn’t believe it. She felt misunderstood, betrayed, broken inside.
After doing her best to prepare herself for whatever might happen between her and her best friend, she’d never planned for this.
A proposal.
She couldn’t say yes. She’d known him forever, but had only been willing to admit to the possibility of being his lover over the past few weeks. Only admitted to herself that she loved him a day or so ago. Only started trying to figure out if she could actually utter those words aloud.
He’d ask, and she’d say no, and then he wouldn’t understand. Nate tackled things head on. He knew they were good together, and this was the logical progression, at least it would have been if she hadn’t sworn off the institution.
But the biggest part of this, the thing that broke her heart the most, was the idea that he didn’t get her at all. He’d said he understood about her marriage. Hell, he’d been the only one she’d truly confided in when Burt broke her trust. So how could he do this?
She shook her head as she climbed into her Audi. Her heart felt bruised, and she couldn’t rationalize his reasoning, no matter how hard she tried.
Before she could buckle her seatbelt, her phone buzzed in her pocket. A phone call.
Nate? No, an unknown number.
She let it ring out, but there was no voicemail. Instead, she listened to the one he’d left earlier.
Nate’s tone was rushed, low and urgent. “It’s me. Call me as soon as you get this. I saw Deb here—shit, I can’t tell you this over the phone. Just call me and let me know where we can meet as soon as possible.”
Her throat clogged as the message ended.
He’d known she would be upset about the fact he was popping the question. He was trying to mitigate the damage by getting to her before Deb could spill the beans.
She sat up straight and stared ahead, cranking the engine after tossing her phone into the seat beside her.
All along the drive home, she let her mind wander. Nate. Marriage. Trust. Love.
But the biggest problem of all was doubt. And doubt was what carried her from the car to the house, to her bedroom, to the stool in front of her vanity where she sank down and started typing out a message.
“I’m sorry. I need to stay away from you for a few days and make sense of some things. I can’t meet you on Christmas Eve. Be well. Merry Christmas.”
She thought about saying more, but what was there to say?
I'm a coward?
I thought you knew me better?
It hurts too much to be close to you when I know I'm going to disappoint you?
She couldn’t. So she didn’t.
She sent the text and finally allowed the tears to trickle down her cheeks.
* * *
She didn’t mope for long. It wasn’t her way.
But since she had no clue what to do with herself, she made a phone call that she’d only managed one other time before.
“This is Hopeful Paws, Charlie speaking, Happy Holidays and how can I help you?”
“Charlie, it’s Allison.”
“Hey there, Ally!” A muffled noise sounded then as if she was covering up the speaker. “Everly, it’s Allison!”
“Hi. Want to go have dinner?”
“Suuure,” Charlie drew out the word and Allison could almost picture the little freckles on Charlie’s nose wrinkling as she said it. “You sound off. Something wrong?”
“Yeah. Yes. Everything’s... weird. And I need some girl time.”
“Well, you know I love other people’s drama. But we seriously need to start doing this without your life falling apart. Ahead of time. We can just, you know, go out for a drink when things are normal.”
Guilt made Allison cringe. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”
Charlie laughed. “Girl, you know I’m just teasing you. Sorry, that probably sounded kind of mean. Come on, buck up. Where do you want to go? I can treat you this time, and I’m off work now. Everly and Drake are going out on some double date with Jesse and her beau, so if you’re down with just talking to me, we can totally go out and I’ll help you solve all your man troubles.” Her voice quieted. “It is Nate, right?”
Allison shoved her feet into her furry boots, glad she’d already taken the time to change into jeans and a long-sleeved top. “Yes, it’s Nate. But the problem is more me. But it’s Nate, and he doesn’t—” she sighed. “I should wait until after a glass of wine to get into this.”
Charlie laughed. “Yes, you should. Let's go to Antonio’s. Everywhere's going to be rowdy right here before Christmas, but we'll have half a chance of hearing one another there.”
The call ended, and Allison headed out the door.
Charlie might have been teasing, but she’d been right. Allison needed to have more friends than just Nate. And the kind of friend who only called when she needed something wasn’t the kind of friend Allison wanted to be. Vowing to herself that she’d start calling Charlie just to chat was a nice distraction from the swirling, doubtful, scary bucket of emotions her life had become.
At the Italian restaurant, Charlie beckoned her over to a table in the corner where she'd already set up shop. A bottle of wine was chilling in a bucket, two glasses atop the snowy white tablecloth. Charlie’s trademark braids were twisted into a knot at the back of her head tonight, and her cheeks were rosy as if she’d spent some time in the cold air today.
Oh, yeah, she probably had. Hopeful Paws was doing that Christmas tree fundraiser. Allison had set it up so long ago, and the tree farm had been working with the shelter directly, so she’d almost completely forgotten about it.
She really was slipping.
“Sit,” Charlie said, pointing to the booth across from her. Allison obeyed as Charlie poured a generous glass of wine. “Drink.”
With the alcohol slipping down her throat, Allison closed her eyes. When she opened them, Charlie was smiling at her.
“What?”
“You’re going to think I’m a bitch.”
Allison snorted. “As if I could. This is the second time I’ve called you because my life is a complete shambles, and you’ve offered to drop everything and come help me put it back together.”
Charlie echoed the snort perfectly. “Drop everything? Girl, all I dropped was a putty knife and a hairdryer. This wallpaper is still killing me.”
“Still?”
Charlie looked down at her nails, which were super short and ragged. “I just started on the upstairs hallway. Four layers of shit. It was like nobody believed in paint for the last seventy years or so.” She sighed. “Anyway, I was just thinking it’s nice to see you so human.”
Allison blinked, taken aback. “Human?”
“You’re just always so put together. You dress like you’ve stepped straight out of Vogue. Your hair’s always perfect. You always know what to do in every situation, and you’ve helped Hopeful Paws go from the edge of bankruptcy to being a viable, sustainable enterprise with the way you’ve revitalized our fundraising events.” Charlie looked down at her hands again. “It’s kind of intimidating.”
Allison shook her head. “I just—I have to be in control. For my sanity. And these things are things I know I can do well. So, I focus on them, and just exclude everything I’m not good at. But what’s going on now?” She sighed. “I’ve no idea how to handle it, and it’s making me fall apart.”
Charlie reached across the table and grabbed Allison’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Okay, human lady. Tell me what’s going on, and we’ll work out how to fix it, okay?”
“I don’t know if it can be fixed.”
“I just spent the last two weeks restoring a rotten floor in a laundry room that should have fallen straight through the crawl space about eight years ago. It’s solid as a rock now. I’m really, really good at fixing shit. Give me a chance.”
Allison told her about Nate. How her feelings had grown so big they terrified her. How he’d come so close to saying those three little words. How she�
��d begged for time. And how Deb had informed her about Nate’s Christmas Eve surprise.
“Ooh,” Charlie said, wincing a little. “I see.”
“I just—I can’t imagine turning him down. But saying yes is unthinkable. I can’t. And the thing that bothers me most is, he knows all this. I’ve told him so many times how I never wanted to get married again.”
“But he loves you,” Charlie said, her head titling to the side a bit. “I’ve never felt that before, not really, but from what I’ve seen it can make you do crazy, irrational, stupid things.”
Allison twisted the stem of her wine glass, rotating it in a circle. “It feels like he doesn't know me at all.”
“Well, you asked him for time. And maybe that’s all you need.”
Allison barked a bitter laugh. “I don’t know if a decade will be long enough for me to start feeling like marriage is a good idea.”
“I know. But if Nate loves you like you think he does, then doesn’t it make sense that he wants to be with you forever?”
The words hit her like a bomb. Allison couldn’t move for a long moment.
Being with Nate forever. The thought was beautiful, and her heart surged at it. But being with him forever didn’t have to include marriage, did it?
It was going to take more than an evening of discussion with a sympathetic ear to figure all this out.
“Just give him time. Maybe he was just dreaming. Maybe he wanted to discuss it with you more later. There’s a lot you don’t know.”
“But I can’t talk to him right now,” Allison said, hating the weakness in her voice. “I’m too raw, too open.”
Charlie shrugged. “I think if he loves you, he’ll wait.”
Would he though? Could he be satisfied with less than all of her?
Allison wasn’t so sure. But for now, it was the best option she had.
17
Ella Fitzgerald crooned on the old, paint-splattered radio in the corner, the winter wonderland she described in keeping with the temperatures in Nate’s garage.
The little kerosene heater was having trouble keeping up with the demands of the early morning cold, but Nate didn’t much care. He was kneeling on a tarp, which was holding the exploded parts of his ‘56 Ford’s vintage carburetor.
