Page 15 of Embers in Our Past

“Yeah, sure, why not?”I mean, really, how bad could it be?

“Great! You’re all settled, right?” she asks.

“Yep. Finally, no more boxes now. Free as a bird. No plans this weekend either. What’s up?” Oh, I hope it’s one of those ice cream deliveries or something.

“Perfect! Well, be ready at five p.m. tomorrow in your best dress. Wear makeup and heels! Because you’re going on a date, my friend!”

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

“NO! Marissa. Absolutely. Not. Fuck no! I’m sick.” I begin coughing to play it off.

“Nope. Too late. It’s happening. I already set off the bat signal. Love you so much. I have to go. There will be consequences, and it will involve a plane and you jumping out of one if I hear you aren’t ready when said date shows up at your door. So I highly recommend you do option A. Toodles.”

I’m about to argue when she hangs up. Fucking ass.

First line of business: Find a new best friend. In Boston.

“Oh, that one is super cute. I love it!” Hilary compliments me through FaceTime. My brother’s wife is one of the sweetest people I’ve met, and I’m currently putting her at the top of my list as a contender for the best friend position after Marissa gets fired.

“This is a horrible idea. I mean, what was Marissa thinking?” I’m going to break out in hives with how nervous I am, and my date is supposed to be here in ten minutes. Also, I have no idea who he is, what he looks like, or what his name is.

Marissa gave me explicit instructions that she would give me his name right when he’s about to ring the doorbell because she’s trying to keep the element of surprise. I swear she’s driving me nuts.

“I think this is so romantic. What if this is the most amazing meet-cute you’ve ever seen? Right, honey?” She looks past me on the screen to who I assume is my brother. “I mean, this could be a rom-com, don’t you think, Frank?”

I swear she has hearts in her eyes. My brother met his wife on a flight while traveling for work. Talk about a meet-cute of epic proportions. I still can’t believe it. She got transferred to New York for work, and they’ve been there ever since.

Well, romantic or not, I’m going to get an ulcer before the night is over, and I’m going to lose my mind.

“This is awful, Hilary. What if I throw up on his shoes? What if he’s the worst? What if he’s boring? What if?—”

“Oh my gosh, Abby, stop! There are so many what-ifs you could list, but you will never know if you don’t try. Just go have fun. Either way, you get a free meal. Enjoy that aspect,” my brother chimes in.

Both Hilary and I roll our eyes. Men don’t get it. There’s an emotional component to all this he just doesn’t understand, but at the same time, I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, so I’m going to let it slide for now. I think he’s just bitter that I’m going on a date, and it’s not with Clay.

Right then, the pieces start to fall into place. Oh shit. What if this is all a ruse, and this dateiswith Clay? Fuck! What if Marissa set this up with Clay, and she’s playing a trick on me? Now I’m really going to be ill.

A knock on my door sounds, and my eyes nearly bug out of my head. I whip my head toward my phone to look at Hilary, and she starts laughing. Is he early?

“It’s going to be okay. You’re either going to have the best time or the best story. Promise me you’ll call. Either way, you look hot!” she whispers as she blows kisses to me while my brother whisper-yells in the background to be safe and she hangs up.

I smooth my hand down my dress and look back at my phone. The text from Marissa says the person I’m going on a date with is named Tucker.

The moment I read the name, I can’t help but recognize it. Why does that name sound familiar? And in the same instance, a pang of disappointment hits me that the name she mentions isn’t Clay.

I hear another knock on my door, so I move quickly to answer it. I swing it open and find a large, burly man with a thick red beard and forest-green eyes. Now I know why the name looks familiar because I’ve met him before. Shit! He’s a fucking firefighter.

Damnit, Marissa! She set me up with someone from one of the firehouses in Boston. He doesn’t work in Clay’s firehouse, but these guys all know of one another, and there is no way Clay won’t find out about this through the grapevine. This is already a disaster, and we haven’t even spoken one word to each other.

“Hey. Abby, right? I’m Tucker. But everyone calls me Malloy.” He smiles and extends his hand toward me.

I’m standing in my doorway, stunned in place. I can’t even pretend I’m not shocked by what’s transpiring right now.

“Hi. Yes, hello. So, you know who I am?” If he remembers me, he must know I was married to Clay.

“Yeah, I mean, Rios… uh, Daniel Rios reminded me when he set this up. I know your ex.”

Rios set this up? How did someone in Clay’s company set us up and not feel like he was betraying the brotherhood? I’m so confused. I will have words for Marissa, but I have no time for this. A text will suffice. Also, Rios’s first name is Daniel? I had no idea.

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