Page 4 of The Grumpy Firefighter
I crouch down to help, reaching for a section of cord. My hands brush against Natalie's. She glances up, eyes widening slightly.
"Sorry," I mutter, pulling back.
"No, it's—" she begins, then stops herself. "Here, if you hold this section, I can work this knot free."
I take the cord she offers, careful to avoid touching her fingers again. We work in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the distant chatter of my crew and the rustle of leaves across the pavement.
She holds up the now-untangled extension cord triumphantly. "Teamwork makes the dream work," she declares with such sincere enthusiasm that I can't even roll my eyes.
Instead, I find myself offering her a hand to help her up from the ground. She takes it without hesitation.
"Thank you, Chief," she says, her voice slightly softer.
I release her hand perhaps a beat too slowly. "Paul," I say gruffly. "If we're going to be working together on this, you might as well use my name."
Her smile widens. "Paul," she repeats.
Logan clears his throat pointedly. "I'll just take this very important extension cord somewhere else, shall I?"
I step back, the spell broken. "Check on Austin and Bradley's progress with the north wall," I instruct him, falling back on authority like the familiar shield it is.
After Logan leaves, Natalie tilts her head, studying me with curious eyes. "You know, for someone so concerned about safety, you run into burning buildings for a living. Isn't that a contradiction?"
"Controlled risk versus unnecessary risk," I explain after a moment. "We train to mitigate dangers we can't eliminate. But here, with civilians wandering through? Different calculation."
She considers this, then nods. "That makes sense. I respect that distinction."
"We'll continue reviewing your plans," I say, already mentally reorganizing my schedule. "Your safety considerations are... adequate, but I want to walk through each station physically."
"High praise indeed," she responds with a hint of teasing. "I'll try to contain my excitement."
Chapter 3 – Natalie
"Careful with that spider, it's going to—"
I lunge forward, catching the enormous furry prop just before it tumbles onto a group of giggling ten-year-olds.
"Did you know," I whisper dramatically, "that in the haunted library section, the spiders don't just crawl on the walls... they read the scary stories andact them out?"
The children shriek with delight as I reattach the wayward prop to its perch above the entryway of our makeshift haunted library. The fuzzy legs wiggle convincingly as I step back, satisfied with my quick save. This makeshift haunted maze has been open for exactly forty-seven minutes, and I'm already sweating beneath my vintage librarian costume—complete with cardigan (plum today, for a properly spooky vibe), cat-eye glasses, and a pencil tucked behind my ear.
"Smooth recovery," Logan says, appearing beside me with a flashlight. "The Chief would've had a coronary if that thing landed on someone's head."
"Where is our fearless leader?" I ask, scanning the dimly lit maze. Flickering lanterns cast amber shadows across the walls, and the artificial fog curls around our ankles like ghostly cats.
Logan grins. "Monitoring the exit with Bradley. Making sure no one breaks the 'walk don't run' rule."
"Of course he is," I murmur, feeling a now-familiar flutter when I think of Paul.
"He's also checking the fog machine settings every fifteen minutes," Logan adds. "Said something was sounding 'off' in the motor."
A group of teenagers approaches, and I slip back into character, hunching slightly and holding up an ancient-looking tome. "Welcome to the forbidden section," I intone, enjoying how even the too-cool-for-school high schoolers step back when I snap the book closed with a puff of glitter "dust" that catches the blacklight.
The maze is genuinely impressive, if I do say so myself. Our haunted library section transitions into the firefighters' traditional elements—a smoke-filled room with flickering red lights to simulate fire, a collapsed-building simulation with mannequins to rescue, and finally a "safety education" section that manages to be informative without killing the mood.
"You're looking awfully pleased with yourself," a deep voice observes from behind me.
I turn to find Paul watching me, arms crossed over his uniform shirt. Unlike the others, he's not in costume, apparently being the stern fire chief is character enough. The dim lighting softens his features slightly, but those gray eyes remain sharp, observing everything.
