After the Storm

by Amy Knupp

  “If that’s the real reason, it’s perfectly understandable, but you should have let me know.”

  Fatigue mixed with lingering anger and Nadia couldn’t make herself act contrite.

  “Where were you? I called around to just about every department and no one had seen you. It’s not like you to miss a meeting.”

  “I was off premises,” Nadia said stubbornly.

  “Doing what?”

  “Taking a nap, if you must know.”

  There might have been a few minutes this morning when Nadia had entertained the idea of throwing it in her mom’s face that she, too, was spending time—work time—with a guy. Kind of an eye-for-an-eye thing. But whether that had been her motivation for going to Penn’s at first or not, it hadn’t ended up that way. It didn’t feel right to even mention it now. She didn’t want to cheapen her time with Penn by turning it into revenge or I’ll show you. Even if he had rushed her out in the end.

  Joyce narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Nadia? Between us?”

  “I missed a meeting, Mom. It had nothing to do with you.” A little lie, but she could see now that skipping the meeting because she’d been pissed off was immature.

  Nadia’s in-house phone rang. “This is Nadia.”

  “Hi, Nadia, this is Lucas at the front desk. I have a Nell Griffin here who says you asked her to page you when she arrived.”

  “I’ll be right there, Lucas. Thank you.” She hung up and glanced at her mother. “Duty calls,” she said, and headed out the door by herself.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  SO FAR, PENN HAD SURVIVED three days of his mom’s visit.

  There’d been some ups and downs, but neither of them had killed the other yet—or even threatened it—so he considered that a raging success. It turned out, though, that entertaining her was exhausting.

  To recuperate, and avoid the overquiet condo, he’d been soaking in the building’s community hot tub since she’d left for her hotel. He’d had it to himself for the past twenty-five minutes, probably because it was late on a weeknight and most normal people had to get up for a job in the morning. Wasn’t he a lucky bastard to have nothing? Yeah, not so much.

  The chilly night air caused steam to rise from the water. His muscles were beginning to loosen at long last, the discomfort of sitting less of an issue in here.

  “I thought that was you.” Nadia’s voice came from behind him, startling the ever-loving life out of him. He hadn’t heard her approach over the sound of the jets and bubbles.

  “You quit early tonight, huh?” He couldn’t prevent the slight edge from slipping into his voice. Didn’t want to. The way she’d invaded his dreams the past few nights, he needed to put on a suit of armor, show her he wasn’t sorry about how they’d last parted ways.

  She moved more fully into his line of sight and he noted she’d at least changed out of her usual business clothes. Dressed in yoga pants and a Silver Sands sweatshirt, hair pulled back in a ponytail, she obviously wasn’t trying to impress him. And yet, he couldn’t deny that his pulse reacted to the way she looked faintly illuminated by a distant streetlight.

  That truth was irritating as hell.

  “I saw your mom heading up to her room for the night,” she said. “She said Cooper was working and she felt bad for leaving you alone.”

  “So you thought you’d swoop in and rescue me.”

  Nadia lowered herself to the pavement a couple of feet away from him, set her purse aside and hugged her knees to her chest. “Nah. I’m not big into the superhero scene.”

  Neither was he, these days.

  “And you didn’t bring any cookies.” He said it as a joke, but he wouldn’t have argued if she had. Though his mom had taken him out for dinner again and ensured that he ate enough for a full fire crew, he could always find room for those cookies.

  “I don’t want you to get spoiled.”

  “Gotta watch out for that. Living the high life these days.” He kept his eyes on the bubbles right in front of him as they reflected the light, all too aware of every move she made. “You going to join me in here?” he said in an effort to turn the tables and throw her off-kilter, knowing full well she wouldn’t.

  “I didn’t bring a suit.”

  “We’ve got the place to ourselves. Suits not required.”

  “You’re naked?”

  He chuckled roughly. “Careful. You sounded a little too eager there.”

  Nadia reached into the hot tub and splashed some water in his face, surprising him, striking a playful chord in him that hadn’t surfaced for weeks. He stood, his instinct to drag her into the water, but just as quickly, he remembered that lifting her, even though she couldn’t weigh much more than a hundred pounds, would wreck his back. The thought was an instant buzz kill.

  “What exactly are you doing here, Nadia? You’re a busy woman. I’ve got to think you have better things to do than watch me sit here.”

  “I figured you missed me by now,” she said, smirking.

  He didn’t respond. He didn’t like the truth, and she wouldn’t like a lie.

  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

  Dread knotted his gut. Talking had never been his favorite thing. Not with a woman he’d rolled around in the sack with. Rolled being a nonliteral term, of course, as that was something he was still trying to master again.

  “Have you had any ideas about what you might want to do for a job once your rehab is over?”

  Hell. He’d rather discuss his sad performance in bed than that. Almost. It was a toss-up. Why in the name of God did everyone feel it was necessary to ask him that question?

  “Let’s see,” he said with a cavalier tone. “I considered a paratrooper with the air force but I really don’t care much for heights. Then I thought about crab fishing. Those guys on TV make it look fun and all, but I’ve never managed to develop my sea legs—”

  “Seriously, Penn.”

  “Why would that be any of your business?” he snapped.

  There was no denying he was trying to goad her into an argument. That would be a better way to spend his evening than discussing his future.

  Because he was looking right at her, he was able to see the effect of his words on her, just for a fleeting moment before she neutralized her expression. They’d hit their mark.

  The knowledge wasn’t as satisfying as he’d hoped.

  “No, Nadia, I haven’t had any job ideas. Haven’t given it much thought.”

  “I had some thoughts about it,” she said, less confidently.

  “So did Coop. His suggestions didn’t pan out.”

  “I was thinking that we have a broad range of types of jobs at the hotel—”

  “No.”

  She paused. Stared at him. “No? Really?”

  “Do you like ‘hell, no’ better?”

  “Not especially.”

  The timer on the hot tub ran out and the noisy jets turned off. The sudden silence was disconcerting and peaceful at once. He made no move to get up and reset the timer.

  “What’s wrong with working at the hotel?” she said, able to speak more quietly now. “You could do so many things there—customer relations, concierge—”

  “Please don’t say bellhop.”

  “Group sales, operations—”

  “No.”

  His refusal was at first answered only by a frog croaking at regular intervals in the distance.

  “Why not?” she finally said, scowling.

  “Let me count the reasons. One, I don’t have any interest in working in a hotel. Two, I don’t want a job given to me out of sympathy—”

  “It wouldn’t be.”

  “You’d hire me based on my vast hotel industry experience?”

  “I wouldn’t be doing the hiring, lucky for you,” she said sharply.

  “Good, because three, I wouldn’t want you for a boss.”

  “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and ignore three. Are you going
to get out?” She indicated the tub with a wave of her hand.

  “Hadn’t planned on it. It’s cold out there, and warm in here. Sure you don’t want to join me?”

  He said it again to get under her skin. When she straightened and scooted closer to the edge, he thought for a minute she was going to call his bluff.

  If she did join him, particularly if unclothed, he would pay dearly. Because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands to himself. Though she was physically tempting, there were a hundred reasons touching her again would be a mistake.

  “Okay, you don’t want to work at the hotel, but maybe it’s time for you to start thinking seriously about possibilities. If you decide to do something that requires training or extra schooling, you could start that now while you’re still rehabbing.”

  Just the thought of school brought back bad memories. Particularly classes in a subject area he had no interest in, which, coincidentally, would be just about everything right now.

  He swished a hand back and forth, just under the surface of the water, making his own minicurrents. “Why are you harping on this?”

  “Harping?”

  “Asking,” he amended.

  “You need…a kick in the rear.”

  “I need a lot of things but that isn’t one of them.”

  “What’s wrong with you tonight?” she asked in a quieter, sadder voice.

  “Same thing that’s wrong with me every other night, I guess. I was doing fine until you came around trying to pin me down on the future.”

  “I had this crazy idea of trying to help.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I care about you.”

  Her words struck him more deeply than he wanted to acknowledge, even to himself. His only defense, being the son of a bitch that he was that evening, was a good offense.

  “Do you care or do you want to assuage your guilt? How can I tell the difference?”

  She looked as if he’d hit her physically. For a moment. Then she narrowed her eyes and he subconsciously braced himself for her temper. Which he deserved, no doubt about it, but acknowledging that to himself wasn’t enough to make him back down.

  “Keep being a bastard all you want, Penn,” she said, her spine stiff. “I don’t scare off so easily.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “You’re right and I’m not going to. One of these days you’ll have to find the courage to face your future. I’m not saying it’ll be easy but it is necessary. If you ever want someone to bounce ideas off, I’m willing. If you want help researching possible careers or courses or trade schools, I’m all over it. But you have to decide to start, and until you do, you’re just going to sit around and mourn what you’ve lost. While that is necessary to an extent, how long are you going to do that?”

  “Until I feel like doing otherwise. Which, I can promise you, is no time soon.” He sounded a little like a pouting child even to his own ears. He didn’t like that but he didn’t know how to stop it. Friendliness and repentance didn’t seem to be in his arsenal tonight.

  Beyond the hated topic of conversation, what it came down to was that he was afraid to let his guard down with Nadia. Afraid to slip up and let her in, as he’d done the other day.

  He stood and climbed out of the hot tub in a slow, deliberate way, catering to his stubborn left leg that still rebelled against doing what his brain wanted and possibly always would. He’d left his towel on one of the patio tables so he wouldn’t have to bend down to retrieve it. As he dried his upper body, Nadia came up next to him.

  “You’ve made up your mind to lock me out tonight,” she said. “I may be stubborn but I’m not an idiot. I’ll talk to you soon.” Without waiting for a reply, she strode off.

  Penn busied himself drying his body, having to sit in one of the chairs to do so. He didn’t allow himself to look after her. Tried to pretend the past half hour hadn’t happened. But try as he might, he couldn’t forget that he’d just once again been a royal jackass to a woman who, logically, he knew didn’t deserve it. Maybe one of these days he’d learn—but he didn’t hold out a lot of hope.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  FOR AN HOUR OR SO, Penn felt like his old self.

  Sitting on the patio of the Shell Shack, eating a double burger and cheese fries, trading insults with the guys.

  When Coop had asked Penn and his mom to join him and a couple of other people from the station for dinner, he’d hesitated. The guys could be crude. While Nell Griffin was no prude, there was typical male bullshitting and then there was that of firefighters. She’d wanted to get to know him better, though. One way to do that was to meet some of the guys he’d spent day in and day out with.

  Luckily, his friends were on their best behavior, so his mom was holding up pretty well. She even seemed to be enjoying herself, now that she’d relaxed a bit. A couple of times, she’d laughed until her eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t remember ever seeing his mom this laid-back and social.

  “Did Penn ever tell you about the time he had his very own stalker?” Dylan, one of the newest guys at the station, asked her.

  Penn cringed. “First off, of course I didn’t tell her. That’s not the kind of story you tell your mom, especially when she’s a lawyer. Second off, how the hell would you know? It was before your time.”

  “Legendary, man,” Dylan said. “That story will be passed down for another fifty years at least.”

  “I have to hear the story now,” Penn’s mom said, squeezing a lemon slice into her water.

  Dylan looked to Cooper, who was renowned for his storytelling abilities. Coop took a drink of his lemonade, grinning the whole time. He set down his cup. “It was a couple years ago, late one night, and we got a call to the retirement village over on Sunrise. The call was for the truck, which we thought was kind of odd because normally the assisted-living calls are for EMS. All we knew before we got there was that a sixty-nine-year-old woman was stuck.”

  “Stuck?” Penn’s mom repeated, as the guys all tried to hold in their laughter for the rest of the story.

  “Yeah, stuck,” Penn said, grinning.

  “So long story short, this woman, Ursula, had dropped her wedding ring into the toilet.”

  “Oh, nooo,” Nell said, completely into the story.

  “And when we get there, she’s at this odd angle, and her arm is stuck in the toilet.”

  Dylan could no longer contain a chortle, and Cale Jackson, one of the lieutenants, was laughing so hard his shoulders shook.

  “That poor woman,” Penn’s mom said, grinning.

  “She was understandably in a panic,” Coop continued. “And while the rest of us were trying not to laugh, Penn here kept it together and talked her through her fear while we tried everything to free her. We were afraid of breaking a bone, quite frankly. Delicate operation, that.”

  “How’d you get her out?”

  “We had to break the toilet in the end.”

  By this time, everyone was cracking up, Penn included. It took several minutes for them all to calm down and stop making bad jokes.

  “That’s not the best part of the story,” Coop said. “Ursula apparently developed a raging crush on our boy Penn, here.”

  Penn shook his head, eyes closed.

  “She was his stalker?”

  “She used to send him handwritten letters that reeked of perfume.”

  “She looked so meek and harmless with her arm in the toilet,” Penn said.

  “Oh, that poor woman.” Nell wiped her eyes carefully so that her makeup didn’t run.

  “Kind of what we thought until she started showing up at the station at 7:00 a.m. after every one of Penn’s shifts.”

  His mom’s eyes widened and she looked to Penn to confirm.

  He nodded. “And here at the Shack a few times. At all the fire department charity events. It went on for months. I finally had a cop buddy talk to her.”

  “Did you get a restraining order?” his mom asked.r />
  “Nothing formal like that. He just explained that what she was doing was considered stalking. It seemed to do the trick.”

  “Unbelievable story,” she said. “You guys must deal with some real kooks.”

  “You wouldn’t believe the half of it,” Cale said. “We could write a book. But then so could every fire department in the country, I imagine.”

  “Every now and then, Penn still gets called Mr. Ursula,” Dylan said, laughing again.

  “I never knew my son was such a ladies’ man.” His mom winked at him.

  “Like I told you, there’s lots you don’t know.”

  Derek Severson, a firefighter and the owner of the Shell Shack, hurried over to their table then. “Just got paged. Anyone else?” he asked. Penn automatically reached for the front pocket of his shorts, where his pager would be, then clenched his empty fist. The other four pulled theirs out and checked them.

  “Yep,” Cale said, standing as his pager buzzed in his hands.

  “Me, too.” Coop shoved the last quarter of his double burger in his mouth.

  “Ditto,” Rafe Sandoval, one of the paramedics, said.

  “Looks like they hit all six of us,” Dylan said.

  Penn’s heart rate had kicked up immediately, as he was sure everyone else’s did, at the first mention of a page, the department’s means of calling off-duty guys into work. It meant something big was happening. But glancing around the table now, doing a headcount, he felt nauseous. “Make that five,” he said. Derek, Coop, Dylan, Cale and Rafe.

  Dylan swore. “Sorry, man. I can’t get used to it. You’re still one of us.”

  Penn tried to smile but had nothing to say to that. He stole a fry from his mom’s basket and pretended he didn’t feel like the odd man out times twenty.

  “You got this place covered?” Cale asked Derek, referring to the bar.

  “Macey’s handling it fine for now and she’s going to call someone else in.”

  Dylan, Rafe and Cale finished their sodas and simultaneously set their empty cups down on the table.

  They all knew roughly how much they owed for their dinners—that was what happened when you ate at the same place multiple times each week—and they tossed some bills toward Derek.