On Deadline & Under Fire

by Amanda M. Lee

  “No, but I’m just petty enough to make you jump through the same hoops you’re trying to make me hop through,” I shot back. “It’s a freaking fire, man. You’re the fire chief. Give me a quote and move on with your day.”

  “Fine.” Crenshaw’s expression promised retribution, but I knew he wasn’t clever enough to come up with something to make me worry. He rattled off the vital information, what time they got the call and how many alarms it was. He ran through the timetable and then sneered. “At this time, we have no idea if anyone remains in the building.”

  “Good enough.” I snapped my notebook shut. “Expect Marvin to follow up with a call and visit this afternoon. If you think I’m a pain, just wait until he starts hounding you.”

  Marvin Potts was one of my good friends and a fellow reporter. He was a bit goofy in his personal life, but an absolute predator when it came to tracking down a story. His reputation was almost as nefarious as mine.

  Crenshaw visibly swallowed as he glared. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say.” I didn’t deny the charge because it wasn’t untrue. “Have a nice day.”

  With that, I turned my back on the fire and headed for the office to file my story. Jared was right. I was absolutely terrible about taking a vacation.

  “I PUT THE STORY in the news queue with a note on top,” I announced forty-five minutes later as I leaned over my editor Fred Fish’s cubicle wall and plucked a wrapped caramel from the bag on his desk. “Marvin will have to make some calls to flesh it out.”

  Fish shifted his eyes from his computer screen to me. “Okay.”

  Okay? That’s all he had to say? “I believe what you meant to say is ‘Thank you, Avery. You’re the most diligent employee at my disposal. I appreciate the fact that you covered a fire even though you have the week off. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’”

  Even though he most often looked annoyed, I didn’t miss the way Fish’s lips curved as he regarded me. “Why would I say anything of the sort when you always say it about yourself?”

  “I wouldn’t have to say it about myself if you would say it first.”

  “I think we’re trapped in a vicious cycle.”

  He wasn’t the only one. I sucked in a calming breath as I forced myself to refrain from barking at my boss. He was a good guy, for the most part. Sure, he gave me a hard time on a regular basis, but that was the way of a newsroom. Nobody got off without anyone making fun of them. “What else is going on today?”

  Fish clearly wasn’t expecting the question because he made a dismissive sound that reminded me of a snort and shook his head. “You’re supposed to be off. Why are you even here?”

  “I told you. I saw a fire and stopped to cover it.”

  “Yes, but why?” Fish was flummoxed. “You could’ve just called it in.”

  “You sound like Jared.”

  “There’s no reason to be insulting.”

  I grinned despite myself. “It was a big fire,” I explained. “I knew it was big when I saw the smoke. It’s human nature to check out things like that.”

  “It is,” Fish agreed. “But you didn’t have to cover it. Once you realized what it was, you could’ve called me to send someone out and then kept doing … well, whatever it is you do when you’re on vacation. I picture you dressing up like an alien and forcing that long-haired boyfriend of yours to go on strange little picnics, but I could be way off there.”

  Could be? “Um, I hate picnics. You know how I feel about bugs.”

  “Yes, I remember when that spider showed up on your desk and you threatened to burn down the entire cubicle to get rid of it. I had to confiscate a lighter from you, if I remember correctly.”

  “That wasn’t just any spider,” I argued. “It was a tarantula.”

  “It was a common ground spider.”

  “It was as big as my hand!”

  “It was the size of the nail on your little toe,” Fish shot back. “Stop being a baby. It’s embarrassing.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You’re embarrassing,” I finally said when my wits returned. “You’re completely and totally embarrassing.”

  “Whatever you say.” Fish turned back to his screen. When I didn’t immediately leave, his eyes reluctantly turned back to me. “Do you need something?”

  “Yes. I need you to acknowledge that you’re going to have Marvin make phone calls to flesh out my story.”

  “I already did that.”

  “No, you said ‘okay.’ That could mean anything.”

  “Good grief.” Fish pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, as if warding off an oncoming headache. “Do you have any idea how annoying you are?”

  “I happen to think I’m awesome.”

  “You’re the only one.”

  “Eliot thinks I’m awesome.”

  “I think Eliot is a master at hiding some serious form of brain damage,” Fish countered. “While I find you funny in small doses, that man puts up with you for hours a day. We’re talking every single day. He doesn’t even try to run away.”

  Annoyance bubbled through my chest. “I don’t need to take this. I did something for you out of the kindness of my heart and now it’s coming back to bite me. See if I ever do you a favor again.”

  “While I’m thankful you went out of your way to file a story that someone else could have covered, let’s not kid ourselves here,” Fish challenged. “You didn’t stop for the fire because you’re a diligent employee. You stopped because you couldn’t bear to let anyone else steal your thunder.”

  “That is … absolutely ridiculous.”

  Fish chuckled, genuinely amused. “Even you’re not sure if that’s true. I mean … look at yourself. Aren’t you supposed to be doing stuff around the house because Eliot’s mother is coming for a visit? I believe that’s what you told me in a fit of panic yesterday. You needed the extra day added to your already-scheduled vacation because you had to collect yourself.”

  I hated the way he phrased it. I sounded weak in his version. “I’m obviously already collected. How can you not see that?”

  “Because you look a little flustered,” Fish noted. “You seem … fluttery, which is really unlike you. You seem agitated … even more so than usual. Heck, you seem nervous. I’ve only ever seen you nervous when you get to interview a soap star you like or the cops come sniffing around because you managed to uncover information you shouldn’t have been able to get your grubby little hands on.”

  “That is total crap.”

  “And yet it’s true.” Fish didn’t bother to try smothering his chuckle. “You really are nervous about meeting Eliot’s mother, aren’t you? I was joking at first, but it’s true. You’re freaking out because you’ve finally found someone you need to impress, and to do that you can’t be yourself.”

  I wanted to argue. Er, scratch that. I wanted to punch him in the face while arguing. I couldn’t. He wasn’t wrong. He cut right to the heart of the matter and latched onto the one thing that was driving me crazy about this visit.

  Mothers didn’t like me. Heck, even my own mother struggled to put up with me for more than an hour at a time. If abandoning one’s child wasn’t frowned upon, I could think of at least a hundred different instances when she would’ve left me by the side of the road.

  Men were a different story. Most people believed I thought like a man, which is why it was easier for me to surround myself with men. Women took one look at me and wanted to start pulling hair … or at least cut out my tongue.

  On a normal day, I can offend someone in fifteen seconds flat. When it comes to a mother, someone who wants to protect her offspring, I can turn someone into an enemy in fewer than five seconds. Sometimes I need only two seconds. I’m just that good.

  Despite the fact that I recognized Fish was telling the truth, I immediately became defensive. “I am not afraid. If you must know, I look forward to the visit. I can’t wait to charm Eliot’s mother … and make no
mistake, I will charm her.”

  “Uh-huh.” Fish snickered as he turned back to his computer. “You should probably get out of here if you plan to practice being charming. It usually takes a couple performances before you’re comfortable being someone you’re not.”

  He wasn’t wrong. “I’m not worried about charming her.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I’m not.”

  Fish held his hands up in capitulation. “I’m sorry I mentioned it. Obviously, I was wrong.”

  The laughter tinging his tone told me he didn’t think he was wrong in the slightest.

  “I’m going to charm the pants right off her,” I snapped.

  “I wish you well on your endeavor.”

  “I don’t need you to wish me well.” I turned on my heel and stormed down the aisle that led to the back hallway. “She’s totally going to like me.”

  I could only hope that was true, because deep down inside I believed the opposite. Maggie Kane was going to hate me.

  It was inevitable.

  4 Four

  Carly and Lexie were finishing up the house overhaul when I returned. I had to make a second trip to the grocery store to replace the perishable items that went bad in my vehicle thanks to my annoying need to cover the fire, so it was almost four by the time I got back home.

  “Where have you been?” Carly, her temper on full display, rested her hands on her expanding hips and glared. “This is your house.”

  “Wow, really?” I dropped the shopping bags on the floor and rolled my eyes. “I’m glad you told me that because otherwise I would’ve been confused by the mortgage payment notice.”

  “Don’t push me.” Carly was clearly at her limit as she wagged her finger in my face. “I spent my entire day here rearranging your house so you can impress Eliot’s mother. I deserve thanks, not sarcasm.”

  She wasn’t wrong, still … . “If I didn’t have sarcasm to dole out my system would go into shock and I’d die from withdrawal.”

  “Oh, whatever.” Carly grabbed the nearest bag from the floor and frowned as she looked inside. “This milk is warm.”

  “Oh, yeah, throw that away.” I dragged the trashcan from under the sink and plunked the warm milk and eggs inside. “It went bad while I was dealing with the fire.”

  “What fire?” Lexie asked. She had the feather duster in her hand when she strolled into the kitchen, which meant she’d actually been working. A year before, the idea of Lexie doing any kind of menial labor seemed out of the question. She’d grown a bit, although her taste in men remained rather tragic.

  I explained about my afternoon, going into as little detail as possible because I knew Carly and Lexie wouldn’t understand. When I was done, Lexie couldn’t stop laughing and Carly was furious.

  “What is wrong with you?” Carly’s expression was hard. “You specifically took time off to ready yourself for the big visit from your future mother-in-law, yet you wasted time chasing a story. That is not normal.”

  I balked. “She is not my future mother-in-law. I mean … come on.”

  “Oh, knock that off.” Carly shifted from one foot to the other, her baby bump poking out enough that it made me want to run and hide in case something burst out of there and tried to attack me. I kept picturing the mean creatures in Alien for some reason whenever I spent time with Carly these days.

  “It’s true,” I persisted, dragging my eyes from the threatening bump. “She’s my boyfriend’s mother, not my future mother-in-law.”

  “Grow up,” Carly snapped, taking me by surprise.

  “Don’t yell at me.”

  “I’ll yell at you if you need it,” Carly shot back, refusing to back down. “You’re being an absolute idiot. There are times I worry that I’m not ready to raise a kid, that I’m not mature enough. Then I remember all the time I’ve spent with you. In some ways, I’ve already raised a kid.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I am extremely mature.”

  “You’re wearing a shirt that says ‘I’m a simple woman. I like Star Wars and like three people,’” Carly pointed out. “How is that mature?”

  “I left my ‘Dorothy on the streets, Blanche between the sheets’ shirt in the closet. I think that shows real growth,” I fired back.

  Lexie snorted in amusement while Carly remained fixated on my face. Her stance told me she was ready to fight, which was a terrifying thought with the added mystique of the bump to aid her.

  “Avery, you’re being a pain,” Carly snapped. “You’re also being purposely obtuse. Eliot didn’t move in with you so you can be roommates forever. You’re not Bert and Ernie. He has a plan to move forward, and that plan eventually includes marriage.”

  “Did he tell you that?” The question came out a little shriller than I intended.

  “No.” Carly chuckled, although the sound was hollow and devoid of humor. “It’s written all over his face when he looks at you. He’s good at not pushing you to the point you do something stupid, but he’s constantly gauging how far is too far. He’s basically nudging you along so he can ultimately get what he wants.”

  That made zero sense. “Um … no.” I looked to Lexie for confirmation. “Tell her she’s crazy.”

  “I can’t.” Lexie delighted in the conversational shifts much more than Carly, who was kicking ass for two these days. “She’s right. Eliot is very good for you. He reads your reactions better than most and manages to stave off meltdowns ninety-five percent of the time. In my book, that makes him absolutely perfect. Er, well, for you. He’s perfect for you. He’s still kind of mean to me.”

  “That’s because you date losers and he’s afraid you’ll drag me into one of your messes if you pick the wrong loser.”

  “I have great taste in men,” Lexie sniffed. “I mean … great taste. The guy I’m dating now owns a club. He’s a businessman.”

  Carly and I cast derisive looks to Lexie at the same time.

  “What kind of business does he run?” Carly asked.

  I held up my hand to still my cousin’s answer. “Wait … I don’t want to know. I can’t get called to testify if I don’t know.”

  “Ha, ha.” Lexie rolled her eyes. “He’s a legitimate businessman. I already told you. He owns a club in Detroit. It doesn’t get more legitimate than that.”

  “What club?” I asked, inherently knowing the answer would set my teeth on edge.

  “It’s called Tit For Tat.”

  “And is that a restaurant?”

  “It’s a strip club,” Eliot supplied, causing me to jolt when he strolled into the kitchen and tossed his keys on the counter. His eyes were busy as they scanned the grocery bags on the floor before he gave me a quick kiss. “It’s one of those strip clubs where you want to get a tetanus shot after visiting.”

  “It’s not that bad,” Lexie sniffed, adopting a wounded expression. I recognized it from our youth. It was something she pulled out whenever she was faking being upset and wanted people to feel sorry for her.

  “It’s filthy and disgusting,” Eliot countered. “A couple of months ago they had a pregnant stripper. No joke. She looked like a camel when she attempted a back bend. They also have rooms in the back for private encounters, and I doubt very much only dancing is going on back there.”

  Something occurred to me. “How do you know that?”

  Eliot stilled. “Oh, well … .”

  “Uh-huh.” Now it was my turn to be on the offensive. “Did you like the pregnant stripper?”

  Eliot cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t hang out there because I like the ambiance. I go because I have a specific client who insists on meeting there. He doesn’t have the most discerning taste.”

  I wanted to work up a full head of steam so I had something to yell about – it had been a trying day, after all – but no matter how I struggled I couldn’t force myself to see Eliot as a cheater. He simply didn’t have it in him. “Fine. I believe you.”

  “What a good girlfriend,” Eliot teased, slinging his arm aroun
d my shoulders as he looked at my shopping haul. “What is all this?”

  “We need food for your mother.”

  “And the bedding?”

  “She needed fresh sheets.”

  “Ah.” Eliot’s eyes twinkled. “And the pots and pans?”

  “You cook.”

  “I know. I’m just surprised you actually went and bought stuff like this. I’m impressed. I was going to drag you out and force you to do some shopping in a few weeks. Instead, you did it on your own. I’m proud, Trouble.” He kissed my temple, causing my mind to flit to what Carly had said right before he arrived home and disrupted the conversation.

  She said he led me along by increments, that he was pointing me toward an end goal that only he could see. I couldn’t help wondering if Carly was right. And, if she was, what did that mean for me?

  “Where is your head?” Eliot snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Where did you just go?”

  “Nowhere.” I shook myself from my reverie. “It’s not important. What’s important is that I bought a bunch of stuff and now we have to put it away.”

  “I think we can manage,” Eliot said dryly, his eyes traveling to the trashcan. “Why are you throwing away the eggs and milk you just bought?”

  “I got distracted by a fire while I was out shopping. I decided to write a story, and some of the food went bad in the car while I was writing at the office.”

  “I see.” Eliot rolled his neck until it cracked. “I thought you were on vacation.”

  “I am.”

  “People on vacation don’t stop to cover stories.”

  “I told you,” Carly said, snatching her purse from the counter and giving Lexie a little shove to get her moving. “I hope he yells at you for working on your vacation.”

  “And I hope your baby doesn’t eat you from the inside,” I shot back, causing Carly to scowl.

  “Why would you say something like that?” Carly raged. “You know I’m highly susceptible to dream infringement. Now that’s what I’ll dream.”