Firefighter's Virgin

“Yeah, well. He and his wife got divorced, she tried to get custody of the kids, it was a big fucking mess.”

“Annie and I weren’t married. And will never be married. So that’s one whole can of worms we don’t have to deal with.”

“She’s going to have your kid, though,” Jonathan said. “That’s going to be the tie that binds you guys for the rest of your lives.”

Was I mistaken or was he deriving some sort of enjoyment from this? A little bit of schadenfreude, perhaps?

“Eighteen years,” I replied, trying to keep my voice light even though my stomach was turning as I said it. Eighteen years sounded like a long ass time.

“It’ll be forever,” he said. “Yeah it’s eighteen years until you’re a legal adult, but if there’s grandkids or anything like that—”

“Let’s not even go there,” I said. “Grandkids? Please. This thing is the size of a sesame seed.” Confiding in Jonathan was obviously not the way to go. Not that I was expecting it to make me feel better, but his assertion that this was just going to bind Annie and me together forever was, well . . . not helpful, to it mildly. “Anyway,” I said. “Have you finalized the list with Dan about who’s going to be working on the Paradise Breeze?”

“I looked it over; Dan should be giving me a call any minute to go over a couple things. There was a conflicting schedule with Chapman, and Baker said something about not being able to stay the whole time in Nantucket, so we’re trying to figure out if it would

make more sense to let him do the first leg of it or just take him off this completely. I know he and Martin have rapport. Oh, and Billy McAllister called and Ghanizadeh is going to be back around at some point next week; they’re not sure when exactly, but they’re going to want three or four more guys down there than normal.”

“Yeah, sure, great,” I said. “He must really like it there at—”

There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” I said.

It opened, and Daisy poked her head around. “Jonathan?” she said. “Dan’s on the phone for you.”

“Daisy,” I said. “I thought you left.”

“I did—I forgot my purse. I just came back to get it.”

“I didn’t even hear the phone ring.”

She pressed her lips together. “Well, it did. Just once, though, I was right there at my desk when it rang. I figured I might as well answer it.”

“Oh. Well, thanks. You’re heading out?”

“Yeah.”

“Going down to Failte?”

She hesitated. “I’m not sure. I’m going to get in touch with Caroline after I leave here. Anyway, I better go, bye!” She rushed out as though just being in the office was excruciating.

And she hadn’t looked at me throughout this whole exchange.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Daisy

I didn’t actually have any plans to meet up with Caroline; I knew she was in the middle of a big project, but I didn’t want Ian to ask me to hang out after work. The whole work day had been rather unbearable, though I’d done my best to just do my job and not let myself be affected by his presence.

Which was difficult, because I could feel his gaze on me, feel him watching me from his desk as I crossed the room to get some water, or as I answered the phone, or as I sat, with my back to him, typing things into the computer. And I knew, when I’d gone back in to get my purse, that he wanted to hang out, and that it would be difficult for me to say no to him if he asked.

Since I didn’t have any plans, I went home. There was no sign of Noah, and I breathed a little sigh of relief as I let myself into the building, then into my apartment. I changed out of my work clothes into yoga pants and a t-shirt, made some tea, then got my computer and went and sat on the couch. I resisted the urge of Facebook and instead opened up my resume and looked at it, then started browsing a few jobs sites. I had spruced up my resume after I’d left the salon, but I tried to tinker with it a little more, hopefully making it as enticing as possible. I decided to leave my time at Hard Tail Security off of it—I’d just pretend that I’d never worked there. It would be better than trying to explain why I was leaving after such a short time.

But that got me wondering: was I a horrible employee? Was this how it was going to be for me for the rest of my life? I’d go from one job to the next, either getting fired or having to leave because I’d gotten myself into an unbearable situation in the workplace?

I sent my resume to a few places, offices looking for admins, a hair salon looking for a receptionist with experience. A few of the job postings were ones that I had applied to before I got the job at HTS, and they were still open and looking for people.

After a little while of this, I put the computer down and went out to the kitchen to look for something to eat. I needed to go to the grocery store, but that could wait until tomorrow. I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. While I ate, I started wondering if perhaps I really was having a quarter-life crisis, as my mother had suggested. A colleague of hers had been writing a book about it. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to talk to him. Maybe he’d have some insight for me.

After I finished my sandwich, I found my phone and called my mother.