by Sarah Gay
“Sounds divine. Time off?”
“Yep. A week until my next case.”
“Ooh, perfect. Backcountry skiing?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Got a call from Mom today. She and Daddy are sad they missed Christmas with us and want to know if they can come spend your birthday here?”
“My birthday?” Julia wasn’t much for birthdays, and twenty-eight seemed so final. “Why would they want to spend Valentine’s Day with us? They’re always on some exotic cruise for Valentines.”
“Don’t get mad…” Abi’s voice thinned to a high squeak, “but I think they want to set you up. Mom said they met the perfect guy in Israel who is back here at the U working on a PhD in Middle Eastern Studies.”
“Argh!” Julia wouldn’t mind visiting Israel—to walk where Christ walked would be amazing. But the Middle East as a whole? No thanks. She couldn’t understand why women had zero rights, not to mention no religious freedom for anyone. Julia had a conversation earlier that week with a woman who had been involved in humanitarian work in Iraq the year before. The woman had friends who had crossed the border into Turkey to be baptized into a Christian faith. When they returned, their entire family was beheaded. The PhD student they wanted to set her up with was probably a great guy, but she had no interest in finding out. “How do I tell them nicely to please not set me up?”
“Not possible. Grin and bear it. I have a steady boyfriend now and they still hound me.”
“One more reason to dislike my birthday. Hey, how are the roads up there? I’m ten minutes to the base of the canyon.”
“Changing the subject?”
“Yep.”
“Not bad yet, but it’s supposed to dump tonight. Drive safe.”
“Love you.” Julia pushed the button on her steering wheel to end the call.
An hour later, Julia pulled onto her glistening driveway. She adored her heated driveway—a shovel-free zone. She entered her house through the mud room off the garage to absolute silence; too quiet for her taste. “Computer, turn on main lights and play soft jazz.” The kitchen lit as a deep trombone piped through the in-wall stereo system.
Julia loved the Jeremy Ranch home she and her sister had remodeled last year. To mitigate future inheritance tax, her parents had partially sold/partially gifted the home to them before buying a small place in St. George two hours from the Las Vegas airport; the perfect place to embark from for their various world adventures. Julia hoped to do the same someday—raise her kids, then travel around the globe with her husband, providing she still had her health and energy.
Located ten minutes from central Park City, Jeremy Ranch, an affluent golf community, was closer to Salt Lake City. Julia didn’t mind the drive to and from work most days, but her drive home this evening should have only taken her thirty minutes, not an hour.
She rolled her shoulders back, stretching her spine as she walked to the bathroom. Dang that wooden chair and long commute. She dropped her heels next to the luxury whirlpool tub. She and Abi had added a second water heater solely for that tub, but it was so worth it. With its thirty powerful jets, teak headboards, mood lights, and continual heating—it was pure nirvana.
Julia turned the faucet to hot, checked the temperature, then hung her dry clean only, starchy skirt and jacket back in the walk-in closet attached to the bath. It would take a good fifteen minutes for the tub to fill, allowing her time to pick out a holiday romantic comedy flick on her iPad to watch while she relaxed in the bath.
With a sappy romance movie waiting in the cue, Julia sprinkled a few drops of hydrogen peroxide into a scoop of baking soda. The ingredients for her facial scrub were stored with all other essential natural remedies in her bathroom cabinets. She leaned over the white porcelain sink, perusing herself in the mirror as she gently massaged the deep cleanser into her face. After a few seconds, her face tingled. She gave her skin a thorough rinse, patted it dry, then applied her organic honey mask with its therapeutic red-raspberry and carrot seed oils.
She closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing as the warm, sweet scent of honeybees conquered her senses, transporting her to a field of wildflowers. When she opened her eyes a few minutes later, the pin-up calendar on the wall behind her filled her vision. Tacky would be the word to describe a calendar like that in her up-scale master bath, but the buff guy on the cover was Stone, Abi’s hot firefighter boyfriend—who Abi had had a crush on since elementary school.
Julia pulled the calendar off the wall. As much as she mocked them for stripping off their shirts and allowing themselves to be objectified, it was for a good cause. And, from what she had heard, those firefighters were top-notch guys. Proceeds from the calendar had been donated to the IRC, International Rescue Committee, to aid with the relocation of refugees. She scrutinized Stone. He was a super buff, mega-hunk, but too ripped for Julia’s taste. She preferred a toned man she could still cuddle her cheek against, not someone with a chest like a dry, rocky, cobblestone creek.
She smiled at the thought of ruffling Abi’s feathers as she flipped the calendar to February. Abi preferred to do her hair and make-up in Julia’s bathroom due to the more natural lighting. As Julia was preparing for work one morning about a year earlier, Abi entered her bathroom, pinned the calendar to the wall, and started doing her make-up like it was just another day. Julia freaked, nearly ripping the calendar off the wall, but they ended up laughing hysterically on the floor a few minutes later.
Julia allowed the calendar to stay because every time she looked at it, it reminded her of their intense bond and friendship.
Flipping the calendar soon became a running joke between the two. It all started one night when Julia was brushing her teeth. A brilliant idea came to her mind. She took the calendar off the wall and reviewed the other firefighters. They were all handsome, but one guy caught her attention, February. She had always been a good judge of character, and this guy had something about him that rang out hero. From then on, the calendar continuously flipped between June and February. Abi had offered to set Julia up with February and his beautiful amber eyes and olive skin, but every one of Julia’s blind dates in the past had ended in a train wreck. Every. Single. One.
Setting the honey facial jar on the edge of the tub, Julia gingerly stepped into the steaming water. “Ah…hh…hh,” she let out at the initial searing of her legs and feet. She grabbed the decorative wide-mouth bottle containing sugar lemon body scrub—another Julia Newell original, and opened the lid. Starting at her shoulders, she rubbed the sweet citrus goodness down to her toes. Time for the jets.
Julia reached for the button to activate the bubbles but was interrupted by her phone. She sighed at her mother’s ringtone. “Computer, answer Julia’s phone.” She and Abi had programmed Alexa to answer to Computer. Each time Julia said computer, it evoked a sentiment of adventure, as if she were captain of a starship headed toward an uncharted galaxy. “Hey Mom!”
“Hello, sweetheart. What’re you up to on this New Year’s Eve?”
“Relaxing in the bath.”
“Alone?”
Julia raised her fists in the air. “Of course, alone, Mom. Like I would allow someone to take a bath with me, and if I did, like I would answer the phone.”
“Sweetie, I’m just concerned about you.”
“I know.” Julia took in a deep breath to combat her irritation. The honey mask dripped down her face and into her mouth. At least she had a sweet treat to calm herself with. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m completely independent and blissfully happy.”
“But you could be so much happier.”
“I know plenty of married couples who would disagree with that notion.”
“Well you’re not talking to one of those. Daddy has brought me more joy than I could ever express.”
“Daddy’s great. They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore.”
“I found someone…” Her mother’s voice jumped up an octave, “you have to meet. I’ve already
arranged it. It’s time you found a good man.”
Julia’s bath heated instantly by ten degrees. “Actually, Mom. I have started dating someone.”
“Are you making that up to get me off your back?” her mother whined.
Julia imagined the scowl on her mother’s face. “No,” she lied. Lying to your own mother; that would keep her out of heaven for sure.
“Then tell me about him,” her mother countered with attitude.
“Well.” Julia grasped the honey jar and held it up to the calendar on the wall. The color of February’s eyes matched the color of her honey mask. “He’s my perfect match.”
“Go on.”
“His eyes are the color of the piece of amber you brought me from Russia and he fights fires alongside Stone.”
“Really?” Her mother’s voice softened. “That’s so exciting! I was worried you had passed your prime.”
“Passed my prime?”
“Yeah. You know, we all reach the height of our beauty, then our boobs sag and cellulite takes control of our upper thighs. I noticed changes in you after your twenty-eighth birthday. You’ve got to get that man when you still have it.”
“Mom!” Julia raised a leg out of the water to examine her thigh. “I can’t believe you’d say that.”
“Love you, pumpkin. Happy New Year.”
Disheartened, Julia responded, “Yeah, Happy New Year.” The phone went dead. Oh, how she needed a pick-me-up after that conversation. “Computer, play Harry Connick Jr. New Year’s Eve song.”
Julia leaned forward, planting her face in the water to remove the remaining honey. She blew bubbles out of her nostrils, imagining Harry, dressed in a black suit and tie, singing her that song.
Why, yes, Harry, I’d love to, but can it wait? I have a party to crash, and a boyfriend to catch.
2
Dax adjusted his black tie as he swayed from side to side to the jazzy blues emanating from the handheld Bluetooth speaker resting on his modern, gray cement bathroom counter. The guys would make fun of him for sure. They got their kicks out of harassing each other for wearing anything dressier than a t-shirt, but Dax had gotten used to it. He liked to look good, and he wanted to make sure he had his pick of the ladies tonight.
Going stag to a New Year’s Eve party where his boys were dropping like camel dung in the desert may not be the smartest thing to do, but he’d take his chances.
Blue’s Bachelors, that’s what his Park City firefighting crew called themselves. Not that they had completely sworn off women, but they did all seem to enjoy bachelorhood, until now. Blue and Stone had already fallen. Jeremy and Nikola were still safe. But for how long? Would they have to change their name to Blue’s Pushovers?
It wouldn’t happen to Dax. He had a foolproof method to keep women at bay with his three-date maximum policy. It granted enough time to have some fun and do a little making out—without the dreaded emotional stress on either side. It was good for them, and good for him. This method allowed him to get acquainted with hundreds of women. When the right woman did eventually come around, he’d know.
He pressed his palms into the counter and shook his head at the reflection in the mirror. He’d inherited his father’s eyes. Being completely honest with himself, he didn’t think his dream girl even existed; and if she did, she’d be way out of his league. She’d dump him just like his mom had dumped his dad, deserting the two of them so she could go “find herself” the day Dax turned fifteen. Now she was some jewelry heiress who was living the high life in her native Brazil.
“Computer, play Latin dance music.” The upbeat, sultry music livened his spirits.
He had learned to put the past in the past and be positive. And he was positive he would hook up with the hottest girl at the party tonight. He dug a healthy amount of sticky pomade out of its container and rubbed it into his palms before using it to sculpt and slightly spike his hair. He’d go easy on the cologne; didn’t want to knock the hotties over before they noticed his striking eyes and dashing smile.
Dax pulled into Pineapple’s parking lot thirty minutes later. The snow had finally stopped dumping, but the plows hadn’t had a chance to catch up, making for slippery roads. Good thing his truck could power through just about anything. He still took it slow. He wasn’t worried about getting stuck, but his truck wasn’t immune to ice.
He entered Pineapple’s with a few guys from the other shift. The Polynesian joint was a favorite amongst the local firefighters. Tonight, two of the three shifts were there. They rotated; 48 hours on, 96 hours off. One unlucky shift had to work tonight, and they’d be busy with all the weather-related car accidents sure to put a damper on New Year’s Eve celebrations.
Dax attempted to gain Stone’s attention, but he and his girlfriend, Abi, headed to the game room in the back of the restaurant where customers could throw a few darts and play a game of pool. Pineapple, the owner, was a good friend to the group, and tonight the game room was reserved for the Park City firefighting clan.
Dax had offered to give Stone a ride. They only lived a few houses apart in Summit Park, a development just west of Jeremy Ranch, but on the pauper’s side of the freeway where the sun didn’t shine as brightly on its residents, figuratively and literally. The Wasatch Mountain Range backed the development to the south, preventing full sunlight from reaching the homes. A few people had money in Summit Park, but nothing like the Jeremy Ranch snobs were blessed with.
The game room had been strung with twinkling lights you’d see hanging off someone’s eaves at Christmas. A large buffet table covered in floral sheets took up the entire back wall and a piano had been pulled from the corner and placed next to a wood floor area Dax guessed would be used as a dance floor.
Blue, Dax’s fire captain, gave him a squeeze on his upper arm. “You playing for us tonight?”
Dax responded with a wide grin. “You askin’ or tellin’, Cap?”
Blue let out a deep, guttural laugh. “Guess I’m telling. Lucy loves your playing, but don’t forget to order first.”
Dax nodded. He’d play for Lucy, Blue’s tough, yet seriously phat, firefighter girlfriend the guys would soon move up from New Mexico to be closer to Blue.
“Got it covered.” Dax had forgotten that they’d made a deal with Pineapple to each buy a large dish to share in exchange for letting them use the back room for their party. As Dax made his way through the crowd to order, he bumped shoulders with Stone. “Hey, man. I see you got Abi here safe and sound.”
Stone just nodded. He wasn’t much for conversation.
Abi flashed him a teasing smile. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“No way. I love that Stone found an amazing, beautiful woman to hang with on our days off, instead of hanging with the boys.”
Abi’s hand settled on her waist as her head tilted to one side. “And you don’t go out with the most beautiful girls in town on your days off?”
She was adorable when she pouted. “No one as beautiful as you, Abi.” Dax cuddled her into a hug.
“Hands off, man.” Stone pulled Dax from Abi’s soft return embrace.
Abi giggled. “Actually, someone more beautiful, talented, and intelligent than me will be here in a few minutes.”
Now she had his attention. “Who are we talking about?”
“My sister.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “And she just won a case she’s been working on for weeks.”
“A case?” Dax’s stomach dropped. “Please don’t tell me she’s an attorney?”
Abi crossed her arms. “And what’s wrong with attorneys?”
“They chase our fire engines around hoping for a kill, and I don’t think they even care if the kill is literal or figurative.”
“My dad’s an attorney as well. And you’re wrong.” Abi raised her chin. “They have to put up with the worst sort of people sometimes. Like the loser who tried to get my sister to go out with him tonight, but someone has to assure there’s due process and order in the world.”
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Stone stared Dax down.
“Sorry, Abi.” Dax lowered his eyes. “I guess we can agree to disagree on this one.” He rolled back on his heels. “Guess that’s my cue to order some food.”
Feeling like an idiot, Dax turned and made his way back to the front counter to order. He had no reason to be such a jerk, other than the fact that his mom had hooked up with a cut-throat attorney when she had returned from her self-realization trip, then gave his dad a year of hell. Dax never knew a man could cry like that. Luckily, she never married the creep, but it was enough to make Dax sever ties with her. He had reconnected with his mother a few years ago, but their relationship would always be crappy.
“What’ll it be, Dax?” Pineapple’s cheerful voice rang out from behind the high counter, hiding his large frame.
Pineapple made it impossible for people to be melancholy around him. His jubilant, welcoming personality enlivened anyone within a hundred-foot radius, causing people to gravitate to him.
Dax tapped a finger on the counter as he studied the colorful food options above Pineapple’s head. “What hasn’t been ordered yet?”
“No one has ordered my famous Island style spicy chicken yet. And I know it’s one of your favorites.”
“I’ll take three of those then.” Dax shrugged at Pineapple’s surprised look. “Wouldn’t want to run out.”
Pineapple threw his head back in laughter. “Go big or go home.”
“You know it.” Dax extended his hand to fist bump Pineapple.
A gust of icy wind hit the back of Dax’s neck. He turned to witness an angel, cloaked in white and haloed in speckles of fresh glistening snow, enter the restaurant. A fluffy, white faux fur coat hid the top of her dress that seemed to puff out at the waist and extend down to the floor. It was made from that scratchy material, tulie, or something like that. He allowed his jaw to drop momentarily until their eyes met.
“Here’s my card.” Dax handed Pineapple his debit card without turning around. “I’ll get that from you later.”
