Burning Ambition (2 page)

When she raced over the finish line, he held his hand out for her to slap again and praised her effort. His eyes were on the timekeeper as he hit the stopwatch, read the results to himself and then looked up with an unreadable expression.

“Let’s have it, Olin,” Joe said, caring too much about the results.

“Four minutes, eleven seconds. Congratulations, Captain. You and the new girl are the champs.”

“Yes!” Faith whispered her response so most of the guys couldn’t hear her, as if she understood celebrating would egg on some of them. She was young—only twenty-six—but Joe could tell she had a lot of street smarts and experience dealing with animallike males from her tenure in the San Antonio Fire Department the past few years.

Her glossy, sable hair was straight and reached below her shoulders. Her eyes were the brightest blue he’d ever seen, making him think of the Gulf of Mexico on the clearest day. She’d shown up to work that morning wearing no makeup—she didn’t need any to highlight her striking features.

She met Joe’s eyes, her blue ones overflowing with excitement and pride at their achievement. It was impossible not to catch some of her enthusiasm, regardless of how well she tried to hide it.

He nodded at her, grinned, then looked away, seeing her father’s penetrating gaze in his mind and hearing his plea, just a couple of hours ago, for Joe to take Faith under his wing.

Joe wanted to see Faith succeed, not only because her father, Fire Chief Tony Peligni, was a good man. Not just because she was the department’s first woman and had to carry that burden on her shoulders. Joe wanted her to do well because he liked her and felt lucky to have her on his team.

Professionally speaking, of course.

The bitch of it was she was dying for a cup of hot, strong caffeine. She’d missed her morning dose in her rush to get out the door, and needed it even more than she needed the lunch she’d packed.

“Hey, new girl. Nice showing at the training drill.”

She turned warily to look at the man with dirty-blond hair who’d just walked in. She’d probably been introduced earlier, but all the stacked-with-muscles bodies were starting to look the same to her.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m still trying to remember names.”

“Derek Severson.” He held out a large hand and she shook it. “Nicest guy you’ll meet in this place.”

“Is that right?” She laughed. “Good to know. I’ll try to remember your face if that’s the case.”

“Hundred percent unbiased truth. So… Awful big shoes to fill, being the chief’s daughter.”

At least he didn’t beat around the bush or talk behind her back. “I’m not trying to fill his shoes. Just here to fight fires.”

He picked up the dirty coffeepot and went to work cleaning it in the sink. Thank God. A second point in Derek’s favor.

“How many scoops?” she asked, taking the bulk can of coffee grounds down from the cabinet above once he’d finished scrubbing. Helping was inherently different from making the coffee herself.

“You like it strong?” Derek asked. “Or girlie?”

She shot him a look and realized he was joking, not singling out her gender. “I like it to wake me the hell up.”

He was married, she guessed. Or taken. Good-looking, if slightly shaggy, he had an easygoing, friendly manner and warm, blue eyes that put a person at ease. Impossible that a man like him would be single. Not that she was looking for someone. Not here.

“Five. Six if you want to screw with the others. They like it girlie.”

Once the coffee was brewing—with six overflowing scoops—she wandered around the kitchen, snooping absently, waiting for her pick-me-up to get done. Derek poured himself some health-nut cereal and added milk from a carton that had a Don’t Use My Damn Milk sign taped to it.

She unwrapped her microwave dinner, started it cooking and then went to the coffeemaker to help herself.

Two more firefighters strolled into the kitchen. One had his eyes on the coffeemaker and the other made a beeline for the refrigerator.

“Hey,” the dark-haired one on the coffee hunt said to Faith.

“Penn, right?” she asked.

“That’s me.” He smiled at her as he took down a coffee mug that said Never Do Anything You Wouldn’t Want to Explain to the Paramedics on the side. “Welcome to the department.”

“Thank you.”

“Ah,” the second guy, a redhead, said, walking up to her at the counter. If she remembered right, his name was Nate Rottinghaus, the son of her not-so-favorite lieutenant. “You.”

Faith tensed and met his eyes. “Me.”

“You know, the captain would win that competition if he was paired with a three-year-old.” He poured his coffee, walked to the long table that ran up the center of the room and sat down across from Derek.

“What the hell, Nate?” Derek said.

“Careful or she’ll figure out what an ass you are,” Penn added.

Faith moved to the end of the table to force Nate to look at her. “I like to know what I’m up against. Got anything else you want to get off your chest?”

He perused her with lazy, smug eyes, as if he was silently calculating how long she’d last in the department. She’d bet the idiot couldn’t count that high.

“There are lots of jobs where your looks could help you get ahead. The fire department isn’t one of them.”

The microwave beeped and Faith spun around, her appetite suddenly gone.

“Ignore him,” Penn said. “He’s used to it.”

Faith gave a forced smile. “Already done.”

“I was going to track you down.” Penn hoisted himself up on the counter and ripped open a protein bar. “As the new kid on the block, you’ve been nominated to be on the auction committee for the upcoming Burn Foundation fundraiser.”

“Nominated, huh?” She pulled out her meal and set it down to cool. “I feel honored.”

“You lucked out. Not only do you get to work with me, but the auction’s in a month and the bulk of the planning is already done. Easy way to get volunteer points.” He took a drink of coffee. “You know, in case you need points with the higher-ups.” He said it with a conspiratorial grin, taking the sting out of his words.

“I’ll probably need twice as many points with my dad,” she joked.

Granted, it was only her first day, but getting her colleagues to think of her as something beyond a female, beyond the chief’s daughter, was going to be a constant battle. She could handle Penn’s friendly jibes. Hell, she could handle Nate’s asshole remarks, as well. But she couldn’t wait for the day when she wasn’t the newbie trying to prove herself.

He softened when he zeroed in on her face. Even as she slept, her features weren’t peaceful. Her skin creased between her eyes and her lips turned slightly downward. To see such solemnity on the face of a woman who’d lived her life full of joy was jarring.

Not wanting to bother her even though she slept more than she was awake these days, he settled into the armchair near her feet and picked up a golf magazine from the end table. He didn’t make it through the first article before she stirred.

“Mama,” he said when he saw her watching him. “How are you doing today?”

Carmen raised herself up a little, arms shaking from the effort, and leaned against the two throw pillows behind her, smiling warmly. Joe hurried to her side to help.

“Sit down,” she told him. “I’m having a good day. I’m glad you’re here.” She patted her short gray hair, chuckling and rolling her eyes when she discovered the left side was matted. Her face seemed puffier than when he’d visited last week.

“Did Jorge leave already?” Joe had let himself in when no one had answered the door.

“At about one. I told him to,” she said before Joe could protest his stepfather’s absence. “Isa’s here somewhere. I’m not alone.”

Isa, the housekeeper, had been part of the package when Carmen had married Jorge. It’d taken Joe’s mom months to get used to the idea of having someone else clean her house, but Jorge had insisted he wanted his new wife working less and enjoying life more. To Joe, it had seemed pretentious. But now that his mother was all but bedridden due to a harsh combination of lupus and vasculitis, it was a godsend having Isa there for several hours a day. She wasn’t a nurse, but the housekeeper could let one in. Though Carmen didn’t yet need round-the-clock care, Jorge had hired a visiting nurse to come out twice a day when he was at work.

“How are you doing, Joey? You look tired.”

“Long night at work. Didn’t get much sleep.” He grinned. “Why do you think I come over here?” The truth they didn’t mention was that Jorge, as a partner in Smith, Vargas and Wellington, had an unavoidable business trip, and Carmen couldn’t stay by herself for more than an hour or so at a time. Her body was too weak for her to get around without help, so anytime she had to use the bathroom or wanted something, she required assistance, much to her frustration.

“Did you get a good one last night?” his mom asked. “Nah, just a bunch of nothings.”

Her eyes sparkled as she told him about a two-alarm fire she’d listened to over the scanner a couple nights ago. She knew the lingo as well as he did, and they could talk for hours about the subject. “It reminded me of the one you fought at that factory a few months back.”

“That was a good one,” Joe agreed. Nothing wrong with his mother’s memory.

“You’re going to get that job, you know, Joey,” she said out of nowhere. “Your professional life is an overwhelming success. I’m proud of you.”

He met her eyes and nodded. He was about to thank her when she continued, shutting him up.

“It’s your personal life that worries me. What about a woman?”

“What
about
a woman?” he asked in dread. It had been a while since she’d gone on this particular rant, and he hadn’t missed it.

“Did you find one yet?”

He forced an image of Faith out of his mind. “I do okay on my own.”

“You’re a wonderful person, Joey, but you need a woman.”

“When the time is right, I’ll find one.” Now he was spouting empty promises, but it was better than dashing her hopes or making her worry more.

“It’s time to step up the search, son. You’ll need someone to talk to about the good fires after I’m gone.”

He shot up off the chair. “Do you need something to eat, Mama? I could use a snack myself.”

“Stop doing that, Joe.” Steel underlined her tone.

“You know I hate it when you talk like this.”

“You can hate it all you want, but you have to face the facts,” she said gently. “Changing the subject every time I want to talk about the future is not only futile, but it ticks me off.”

He perched on the coffee table and put his hand on her bony one. “I don’t want to think about it.”

She squeezed his fingers, her grip firmer than he’d expected. “Believe me, I don’t want to think about it either, sometimes, but I don’t have a lot of choice in the matter. It’s a natural thing for a woman to want to make sure everything’s in place before she goes.”

“You don’t know how long it will be. No need to talk like it’s tomorrow.”

“It could be,” she said matter-of-factly, and Joe knew she was right. “If you won’t find a woman who’s worthy of you, my greatest wish is for you to find a place here with Jorge and his sons.”

“I can’t move here—”

“That’s not what I mean, Joey.” She gazed out the window for several weighted seconds, her eyes following the flight of a Couch’s kingbird as it landed on the branch of a bush, but her thoughts were obviously elsewhere. “By place I mean…a family. I want you to feel like they’re yours.”

Joe leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, still holding her hand. He stared at the floor, debating how frank to be.

“Jorge is a good man,” she continued.

“Of course he is.”

“You don’t like him.”

Joe turned that over in his mind, shook his head. “That’s not true. I didn’t like him at first, but I don’t dislike him now.”

“But there’s something holding you back.”

“Not at all. I just don’t fit in.”

“Sure you do. You all play golf. You like sports.”

“Those are interests we have in common, yes.” The grand sum of shared interests, come to think of it.

“Why can’t you embrace them as your family, then?”

He stood and paced. “They don’t respect me. My career. To them, I’m a bumbling blue-collar guy who has no place in their overpaid lawyer world.”

Concern deepened in her eyes, twisting the blade of guilt that was perpetually buried in his gut. “That’s not true—”

“Maybe it’ll change if I get the job as assistant chief.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Joey. Jorge doesn’t care what you do for a living.”

“Have you ever noticed how he introduces me? And how he introduces Ryan and Troy? I’m Joe Mendoza, his stepson. End of story. They’re Ryan and Troy, junior partner and partner at Smith, Vargas and Wellington. His pride and joy. Men after his own heart, men with brilliant futures.”

“They’re his sons, Joe.”

“I know that, and I don’t begrudge them the fact. It’s not the lack of a blood tie I’m talking about. It’s…” He shook his head, realizing he was getting worked up, which would in turn get his mother worked up, and that was the last thing she needed. “We just come from different worlds. They’ll never consider firefighting as good as law.”

She studied him as he forced himself to sit on the coffee table again. “Tell me why you’re going for this job, Joey. Is it because you want to be assistant fire chief or because you think it will make things easier with your stepfather or, Lord forbid, make me happy?”

“I want the job,” he said without hesitation. “I’ve had my path planned out since I was a kid. You know that. I’m going to the top eventually, just like Dad.”

But she wouldn’t be there to see it, possibly not when he became assistant chief and definitely not when and if he was lucky enough to climb to the top position in the department.

“I’ve pushed you,” she said quietly, introspectively.

“You’ve encouraged me. There’s a difference.”

“A fine line,” she agreed. “Have you really given this serious thought lately? You love fighting fires, Joe.”

“Hell, yes, I love fighting fires. I love the fire service. I’m a good leader. The position is perfect for me—a natural next step.”

“If it will make you happy. But you won’t be in the action as much.”

That was putting it mildly, but he merely nodded.

“You’ve never been the desk jockey type.”

“I wouldn’t call it a desk job.”

She stared at him so long he squirmed. “You listen to me, Joey. I want you to think hard about this. Think until you’re purple in the face. Think about what
Joe
wants. What you want your life to be like. Don’t include me or the legacy of your father or anything else in the equation. Only you.”

“I want to move up in the fire department.”

She made a succinct sound, a cross between a hiss and a shush. “Not today. You give it some time. Don’t worry about me.”

As if that would happen.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, because she’d throw a fit, but he wanted like crazy to get that promotion while his mother could still appreciate it. He wanted to share that victory with her. “I won’t worry about you if you won’t worry about me.”

She stared at him, her strong jaw set, and shook her head. “No deal.”

“How about a different deal? I’m going to get that job. And I want you to be around to see it. Can you do that?”

It was a ridiculous plea, he knew, but he had to grasp on to something.

Instead of scolding him for being in denial, his mother smiled at him and nodded, as if the two of them could conspire to fool fate. With that sparkle in her eye, he could almost believe it.

“You’ll make one heck of an assistant chief, Joey.”