Firefighter's Virgin

“It’s what Ian wants. He’s the boss.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say to that. Part of me did feel comforted in knowing that there were two guys out here, if Noah did show up, but another part of me felt bad, that they were probably not too psyched about having to be stationed outside my apartment building all night. “You’re really going to be out here all night? Don’t you need to sleep?”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about it, Daisy. We usually work the night shift; we’re used to it.”

“Well . . . thanks,” I said. “If you need to use the bathroom or need a drink or anything, you can come inside.”

“We’re all set,” he said. “But thanks.”

“Okay.” I started to turn away but stopped. “What was your name?”

“Ben.”

I nodded. “Ben. Thanks, Ben.”

He smiled again and waved me off. “You already said that. No need to thank us, Daisy; we’re just doing our job. Good-night.”

“Good-night.” I went inside, a smile on my face. Even if Ian wasn’t there himself, I still felt as though he was watching out for me, making sure that I stayed safe.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ian

Daisy was already there at the office when I got in the next morning, and just seeing her put a smile on my face.

“Hey there,” I said. There was no one else in the office, so I went over and gave her a kiss, forcing myself to pull away after a moment, even though I would’ve liked to just continue on in the direction that was headed.

“Mmm, hi,” she said. “I was wondering where you were.”

“Am I late?”

“A little. Or no, since you’re the boss, I guess you get to decide when you come in. But Seamus McAllister has been calling.”

“Oh yeah? And what does he want?”

“He wouldn’t say; he just asked if you’d call him back. Even when I asked him what it was in regards to, he wouldn’t tell me. So you should probably call him back.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll do that now.”

I went into my office and called Seamus. This was probably about that Ghanizadeh coming back into town or some shit.

“Ian,” Seamus said, picking up after the second ring. “Thanks for returning my call. I’d like to meet with you. What is your schedule looking like? Why don’t you meet me for an early lunch.”

“Hi, Seamus,” I said. “Early lunch? I haven’t even had breakfast yet. What’s is that you wanted to talk about?”

“I’ll let you know when I see you. That’s the whole reason why I’d like to get together.”

I could tell by his tone there was no way he was going to tell me over the phone and save me the trip, and I also knew that if I didn’t agree to meet with him, he’d keep calling until I did. So I told him my schedule was relatively open today, and we could meet up since he clearly had something of the utmost importance to discuss with me. I hung up the phone, trying to not feel too agitated.

“Everything okay?” Daisy asked.

“Just fine,” I said. “I’ve got to leave in a little bit to meet up with Seamus. Apparently, he doesn’t want to tell me over the phone what it is, either.”

What the fuck did Seamus McAllister want to talk about? He rarely ever wanted to talk in person—I couldn’t actually remember the last time that we’d had a face-to-face meeting. That’s what Billy was for—Seamus just called the shots and then did who knows what with the rest of his time.

Seamus had me meet him in Chinatown, at the restaurant that fronted for his underground poker club. By the time I got there, I had it figured out: Word had gotten out about the shit that went down with Martin, and Seamus wanted to can us. Even though nothing like that had ever happened before, and would not happen again. I would make sure of that. The air smelled greasy, and there were people sitting at the bar, hunched over bowls of noodles. Seamus was sitting at a table by the window, with a plate of egg rolls in front of him.

“Ian.” He gestured to the empty seat across from him. “Have a seat.”