Firefighter's Virgin

“Daisy,” I said again, and I waited until she finally raised her face and looked at me.

“What?” There was a hint of irritation in her voice, sort of the way a teenager would sound when a parent was asking a particularly annoying question. It reminded me of how young she actually was.

“There is something wrong,” I said. “I’m not sure what, but I can tell you are definitely not happy about something. Is it because of the other day? At your desk?” Maybe that had been taking it too far. Maybe I should have just stopped when she said she had to go the first time.

She blinked a few times and didn’t say anything. I could see her thinking, though, trying to work out what it was she wanted to tell me. Or if she wanted to tell me. I tried to think of what it was that might be bothering her. Was she not okay with the fact that I was her boss? Had doing it in the office been too uncomfortable? Or maybe it was—

“I know about your other secretaries,” she said finally. “I found out. I know that this is something that you just . . . do.”

Ah. Okay. Well, everything was starting to make sense now. “You did?” I said. “From who?” Probably Jonathan.

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter, though, is that I feel like a fool for thinking that there was actually something . . . something special between us. I know how stupid that sounds.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid,” I said. “And I happen to agree with you—I do think there’s something special between us, too.”

But she kept shaking her head. “You’re just saying that. How can there be anything special between us when you’ve done this exact thing with your other secretaries?”

“It was only one,” I said. “It’s not like that was part of the job description. And the difference there is that the thing with her was solely physical. Just physical attraction, nothing more.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice small.

Shit. I hadn’t been expecting this. Fucking Annie! Fucking Jonathan, too, or whoever the hell she found out about it from. “Daisy,” I said. “I don’t want you to think that what’s been going on between us hasn’t meant anything to me.”

“I’m sure it’s meant something to you,” she said, “just not what it did to me. I know that you enjoyed it. But I felt like . . . I just thought . . .” She trailed off. “Never mind. It sounds stupid. I’m not trying to be a bitch to you; I just don’t know how else to handle it. Having to come into the office and see you every day.” She gave me what seemed t

o be a brave smile. “I’m glad we’re talking about it, though. I mean, it’s uncomfortable and everything, and I’m embarrassed to admit it, but it’s good to get it out there. Good that I realized this stuff now and not later.”

“You’re making it sound like I’ve done something terrible to you,” I said. I must’ve had a rather distressed look on my face, because she came over and touched my cheek, a sympathetic expression in her eyes.

“I know you’re not,” she said. “It just seems like it would be better if things didn’t go any further between us. I don’t think I can do a casual relationship. I don’t have that much experience with these sorts of things, but I do know enough to know that I couldn’t do a casual relationship with you.”

In a way, she was saying everything that I wanted to hear, which surprised me, because up until this point, I’d never wanted a woman to utter anything other than, “Why yes, no strings attached sex is absolutely all I want from you.” That had been before; this was now. And with Daisy, for some reason that I still couldn’t quite understand, I wanted things to be different.

“Look, Daisy,” I said, “I’m certainly not perfect, but the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you. I’m sorry that you had to find things out this way. About Annie and everything. I didn’t bring it up because I thought it was over; I didn’t think that I’d ever have to see her again. You have to understand, she and I were never a couple. It was just a fun thing that I thought we both understood would never get serious. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way. Letting her go was the best for both of us.”

The sympathetic look in her eyes wavered. “Best for both of you? Or you?”

“Both of us. I wanted her to move on, to be able to get on with her life without having to see me every day as a reminder of what she thought she wanted. But the thing is, Daisy, she barely even knew me. There’s a difference between being intimate with someone and knowing them intimately.”

She tilted her head to the side, frowning at me. “That sounds good and all,” she said, “but maybe she felt like there wasn’t? Maybe she felt like she did know you? And how well do we know each other?”

“We’re still getting to know each other. But I like what I know about you so far—more so than anyone else, actually. And I’m not just saying it because I think that’s what you want to hear. This is actually a rather difficult conversation for me to be having right now.” And that wasn’t bullshit—I was feeling increasingly uncomfortable, but I knew I needed to be upfront with her if I wanted any chance of getting in her good graces again.

“There is another part that I need to tell you,” I said. “About Annie.”

There was a part of me that was screaming this wasn’t the right time to do it—that I should wait, break the news to her another time—but I knew if I did that, it’d be harder and harder to come clean about it.

“Annie recently called to inform me that she’s pregnant,” I said. “And that it’s mine.”

There was a long pause. Daisy’s face remained expressionless, but after a few moments, she nodded slowly. “I see.”

“Which I know is probably not what you want to hear.”

She was silent. I didn’t know if she was about to burst into tears and slap me, but she did neither; she just stood there, her arms now folded across her chest.

“I’m sorry, Daisy,” I said. “I wish I could take it all back, what happened with Annie. The idea that this is going to jeopardize what I could have had with you is killing me, it really is. But I can’t change the past. So I’ve got to do what I can with what I’ve got to work with. I’ve been in worst situations before—believe me—and come out of those okay, so I’m not too worried. Well, maybe I’m a little worried, because some of this is completely new, but there’s nothing I can do to change it.”

“Wow. I think I need some time to think about all of this,” she said slowly. “I don’t . . . I don’t know what to say to you right now, other than I am glad that you were honest with me. I do appreciate that. But . . . I’ve got to think about things, okay? I just . . . I need some time.”