In Love With The Firefighter. Amie Denman

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СКАЧАТЬ bar and easily within earshot. Close enough to make everyone uncomfortable.

      Kevin sat on his bar stool like someone had soaked his pants in superglue. Even if she’d given him the chance to explain, what would he have said? Sorry, lady, but your car was in the way. Life over property.

      But she had no use for him or his explanations. She’d made that clear.

      * * *

      JANE SMILED AND waved at the firefighters now silently holding on to their beer bottles as if they were lifelines.

      She leaned forward and whispered to Nicole. “I think you ruined Testosterone Night.”

      “I’ll cry myself to sleep tonight,” Nicole said quietly. “I know they’re your friends, but I just couldn’t sit here and listen to their bravado.”

      “Don’t blame you a bit. They’ll live.” Jane grinned. “It’s good for them to get a reminder once in a while that not every female on earth finds them irresistible.”

      Nicole regarded her friend, one eyebrow raised. “Have you ever dated any of them?”

      “Not officially. I briefly dated a cop who left for the bigger department in Virginia Beach. Also dated a firefighter who was only here for the summer. Somehow I got little sister status with that group, so dating is off the table. Maybe I know too much about them.”

      “Nothing going on between you and Charlie?”

      Jane blew out a breath and sat back, crossing her arms. “Nothing I want to burden you with tonight. It’s a...well...it’s a story.”

      Their burgers arrived, covered in barbecue sauce, cheese and bacon as promised. “To new beginnings,” Nicole said, clinking her nearly empty wine glass against Jane’s orange soda.

      “Benvenuto,” Jane said, laughing. “See, I learned something in that Italian class we took when we were juniors.”

      While they ate, the firefighters at the bar moved to a corner table closer to a flat-screen television. The baseball game was on, and the noise of the game and the bar patrons covered their conversation. Twice, Nicole’s glance strayed to the table in the corner. Both times Kevin was looking at her.

      “I’m hoping you can do something about my computer now that you’re here. I think I need a new system,” Jane said. “Maybe I should put everything in the cloud.”

      “I’ll look at it. You mostly place online orders for supplies, track expenses and print receipts for purchases, right?”

      “Yes,” Jane said, nodding.

      “And you don’t have any employees?”

      “Nope. Just you.”

      “Are you sure you actually need me?”

      “I definitely do.”

      When Jane had asked Nicole to move to Cape Pursuit, the timing had seemed too perfect. Just when the top layer of scars from her brother’s accident had scabbed over, the foolish office romance Nicole was involved in bubbled over and fizzled out.

      It had been far better when she and her boss, Bryan, at the furniture plant were just flirting. Flirting has the potential for danger, but she told herself it was harmless. She ran his human resources department and online sales accounts, was flattered when he asked her to sit next to him at meetings and enjoyed an occasional lunch on his dime. It was a nice distraction.

      Until they’d traveled for business and she ended up in his hotel room. The match was struck and burned hotly for about a week. Then it fizzled, and they both discovered there was no fuel left. The cold ashes remaining would make it impossible for her future with Bryan as a boss.

      Jane happened to call to say hello at just the right time. Nicole told Jane about the big office mistake and the downward career spiral she was now being flushed along. And Jane begged Nicole to leave Indianapolis behind, swearing she needed someone with a head for business. Getting away from her work, Bryan, her memories, was such a tempting offer, Nicole couldn’t refuse.

      But she’d worried every day in the weeks since—as she’d finished out her lease, given her notice and packed her things—that Jane was only being nice. Being a friend. That she didn’t need a business manager any more than Nicole needed another pair of shoes.

      “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong,” Jane said, scrutinizing Nicole. “I really need your help. I have big plans to take my painting business to the internet. When the tourists are gone—nearly half the year—my sales are so dismal I can hardly pay the rent. I want to set up a website and sell online.”

      “Really?” Nicole brightened.

      “Yes. That’s where you come in. Since you’re also an excellent photographer, I’m hoping you’ll photograph and post my pieces on my website that doesn’t exist yet.”

      Nicole felt a weight lift from her chest. “I could do that,” she said, energy infusing her voice.

      “I’ve thought of selling my one-of-a-kind stuff online, but I also need your opinion about doing some stock or custom items. I just have to figure out exactly what people want. Market surveys, you think? You know about that.”

      “I do,” Nicole said, thinking of the market research she’d conducted for the furniture company and how excited she’d been to share the results with her former boss. She’d been foolish enough to think that working extra hours for Bryan’s approval was some kind of honor.

      Working for Jane would be better.

      “And I don’t know if I’m opening a can of worms offering to do custom pieces,” Jane continued. “I’ve just done a few for close friends, but I’m worried about going online. People can be a real pain. They think they know what they want, but sometimes they only know it when they see it.”

      “We’ll look into it, do a search and see what other artists like you are doing.”

      Jane nodded and scooped the last fries out of the basket.

      “I think I’ll start tomorrow by securing your web domain. I have to do a search and see if seajanepaint.com is taken,” Nicole said.

      “What are the chances?”

      “About as good as having the door of your car taken off by a fire truck,” Nicole said. She chuckled, the laughter scattering the tension from her neck and shoulders. For the first time in a long time, she felt free. Maybe this would work out.

      When Jane and Nicole asked their waitress for the check at the end of their meal, she told them it had already been covered. “Tip, too,” she added, smiling.

      Nicole looked at her friend, eyebrows raised.

      “It wasn’t me,” she said. “Although I was planning to buy since you’ve had a tough day and I wanted to wine and dine my favorite new employee.”

      Nicole risked a glance at the corner table where all eyes were on the television. Except for one stormy green pair. It was no mystery who had paid their tab, but Nicole wondered what had motivated the gesture. СКАЧАТЬ