Page 2 of Keeping It Professional

“She’s got to learn from someone, and I picked you. You’ll teach her good habits. Start her off right.”

I wanted to argue — couldn’t someone else do it? Someone more patient, someone with kids? Someone who could deal with her starry-eyed joy? For me, this was serious, life and death business. But Clive would just say that’s why he picked me, so she’d learn to treat each call with the same care I did. And hewouldhave a point, but still — butstill.

“What is she, nineteen?”

“She’s twenty-six. Don’t be a jerk. This job’s hard enough without you being a sourpuss.”

Clive had made up his mind, that much was plain. I sighed one more time to vent my distaste, then stalked out to meet Sophie and start our shift. She was giggling with Jones, because ofcourseshe was. I whistled at her to get her attention.

“Okay, come on. Maintenance check.” I jerked my head at our rig. Sophie came bouncing over. She was practically vibrating — excitement or nerves? From the smile on her face, I guessed mostly the former, but the gap between anticipation and anxiety was too slim by far. Physically, chemically, they were much the same. She was going to be jumpy. I’d have to watch out.

“It’s important, to start with, you?—”

“So, since it’s our first shift, should I— Oh, sorry.” Sophie’s blue eyes went wide. “What were you saying?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. She needed to chill. She hadn’t quit fidgeting once since I’d met her, shifting foot to foot, rubbing her hands. I mimicked her foot-shifting.

“You need a break?”

“Huh?”

“You’re doing the pee-pee dance. You need the bathroom?”

Her cheeks went bright pink. “No, I donot. It’s just cold as balls in here. Should’ve layered up.” She rubbed at her arms, then stood still at last. “So, should I do the check, since it’s my first day? Y’know, so you’ll spot if I miss any steps?”

“That’s what the checklist’s for.” I jabbed my finger at her clipboard, but she had a point. Even if she followed the checklist exactly, she might stow some gear someplace expected. That could cost precious seconds out on a call. “All right,” I said. “We’ll run through together.”

We checked the oxygen tanks, main, portable, and backup, then the odometer, the fuel tank, and all our fluids. Sophie checked our tire pressure while I did belts and hoses, then she got in and tested the lights.

“What’s next?” I asked, when she was done. “Don’t check your list. From memory.”

Sophie took a deep breath. She bit her lip. “Sirens, electronics, AC and wipers. Exhaust fan. Reverse alarm. All of that. Then we get out and check the outside, if the doors open smooth, if there’s weather strips peeling. We check the back step, the running boards, windows, antennas. Anything that moves, we make sure it’s smooth. Anything attached, we check it’s on tight.”

I found myself relaxing, if only a hair. Sophie was thorough, if nothing else. She was meticulous as we checked our equipment. Everything countable, she counted it twice, then stowed it back right where she’d found it. By the time we were done, we were running late, but just by ten minutes. For a first day, not bad.

“I didn’t catch your first name,” said Sophie, as I signed out our bus.

I stiffened slightly. “It’s Miles. But I’m Fletcher at work.”

Sophie chuckled at that, though I couldn’t see what was funny. “Then I guess I’m Reeves. Where are you from? You don’t sound like you’re from Boston. I’d guess Indiana, maybe? Or Tennessee?”

I sucked a breath through my nose and let it out slow. I couldn’t blow up at her on her first day. However antsy she was, that would double her nerves, and the last thing I needed was her freaking out.

“I’m from here,” she went on, oblivious. Smiling. She had a sweet smile, gentle. Sincere. Patients might like it, find some comfort there. Me, I found it annoying, directed at me. Like she was trying to win my approval.

“You can’t suck up,” I said.

Sophie’s smile vanished like a magician’s rabbit. Her brows drew together. “Excuse me?”

I wanted to kick myself. I’d gone and snapped at her. I hadn’t meant it to come out as harsh as it did, but she needed to understand this was a workplace.

“When I’m at work, I’m at work.” I gestured around us. “I check my personal life at the door, and you should too. When you’re on the job, you need to be on it, not distracted with accents or my first name.”

Sophie’s smile was already back, wide with relief. “Oh, right. I get it. You start getting personal, where does it stop? Theycovered that in training, situational awareness. Got to stay focused, or you’ll make mistakes.”

“That’s right.” I forced a smile of my own. She’d got the message, and she wasn’t offended, but I’d lost awareness myself. Let frustration take hold. “Listen, why don’t you go borrow a sweater? Itiscold out there, and cold gets distracting. Clive has some from our fun run in a box in his office.”

Sophie strode off and Jones edged up beside me. He nudged me hard in the ribs.

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