Page 25 of Love Resurrected
“Beautiful,” I mumble.
“Look,” Ethan says. “I know this can’t be easy for you and I’m sorry for that.”
I wave a hand dismissively in his direction, not looking him in the eye.
“But, brother, it’s been three years. When do you move on with your life?”
“Jesus, first Remi, and now you.” I look at him. “I’m living my life just fine.”
“Well, she’s not wrong. Is this how Kat would have wanted it?”
“Don’t bring her into this, Ethan. That’s low and unfair.”
“Actually, it’s neither. Her last request of me was to take care of you. And I gotta tell you, you make it hard as fuck to do so.”
“So sorry to inconvenience you.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Why don’t you ask Tenley out?”
“Seriously,haveyou been talking to Remi?”
“No, why?”
“She said the same thing the other night. So, I did. And she turned me down.”
“Really? Huh. Well, what about one of those apps?”
“I’m not swiping in any direction to find a date,” I growl.
“Okay, I get it. Can I at least ask Sadie if she knows anyone? We can double date, take the pressure off.”
“No.”
“Great, I’ll set it up. You won’t regret it.” Ethan stands, pushes his chair back under the desk, and leaves the room.
“I said no,” I call after him.
I get nothing in return.
The alarm goes off and the guys get called out. I’m filled with a sense of longing that is equal parts bitterness over my current station in my career. No pun intended. I watch as the trucks pull out of the drive, sirens blaring, light flashing, on their way to something that is no doubt better than what I’ve got going on here.
* * *
The afternoon drags on. Minutes turn to hours, I’ve finished with all the required paperwork for the day, organized the file cabinets, cleaned the kitchen and the bathrooms, and am now playing Solitaire on the station computer. I’ve just lost, again, when the bells over the front door jingle. Even though it’s a welcome distraction, I still look down at the desk, pretending to be absorbed in something interesting. Because, while I want the interruption, I hate being the first line of contact for walk-ins. It’s never interesting or worth my time.
“Excuse me, I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be here or somewhere else. The information I received wasn’t clear.”
I glance up. A petite, older woman is standing in front of the desk. She has short white hair cut into a chin-length bob, big blue eyes, and bright red lipstick.
“Hi.” I stand. “Tell me why you think you should be anywhere, and I’ll see if I can’t help you.”
“I’m supposed to be meeting with some other people about a recruitment fair. Since you’re the only one here, I have a distinct feeling this is not where I’m supposed to be.” She turns to leave.
“Hold up.” I jog around the desk to the lobby area and touch her shoulder to stop her. “I need to be at the same meeting. I’m the rep for FD. Brad Mathews.” I hold my hand toward her, surprised to find her grip is strong once we shake.
“Nessa Brighton,” she returns. She’s attractive, and I’m guessing in her mid-sixties, wearing jeans with a white t-shirt and a navy blazer, and flat tan ankle boots.
“We’ll be early if we leave now, City Hall is just around the corner. You want a cup of coffee or something, and we can head over together in a few minutes?”
