The Firefighter's Cinderella (4 page)

 

T
HE ROOM GREW QUIET
as Natasha stood at the makeshift podium that overlooked the famous baroque-style ballroom. Emotion began to bubble up inside her. It needed to be quelled before she began her speech.

She'd never been nervous addressing groups even larger than this on immigration law. But she'd never had to speak about her best friend before. At Tim's funeral only family had spoken, leaving out whole aspects of his life, such as fireman and friend. This was her chance to talk about the man she'd known and loved.

Stares from the elegantly dressed assembly grew more probing as the guests waited for the program to start. Tasha broke out in a cold sweat. She could see that all her hard work over the past year had paid off, for the room was packed. But none of that mattered if she let stage fright get the best of her.

She should have brought cue cards, she decided, feeling her hands tremble. She had arrogantly thought she could handle anything. After all, she'd been blessed with a good memory and had never needed to use them before.

With her thoughts reeling wildly, she realized the hubbub in the ballroom had subsided. How could a gathering of over four hundred people be this silent? Great! Now the press had something else to add to the embarrassing faults of Congressman Bennington's daughter.

Tasha's breathing came faster. She clung to the podium for support, noting she'd been up here too long without saying anything. Her eyes searched out C.J., who was seated nearby.

Those deep pools of blue were full of concern and encouragement. In that instant, memories of Tim flooded her mind, and the speech she'd prepared didn't seem right anymore.

She cleared her throat. “I'd like to thank all of you for coming to the Tim McGinnis Firefighters against Cancer Foundation Charity Ball. I hope some of you enjoyed the marathon today. I know I did. Though I doubt I'll be able to walk normally for a week. It was a great experience I wouldn't have missed.” She heard a few hoots from the audience.

“Those of us who knew Tim recall he was a man who lived life to the fullest. He was far too young to die.” Tasha looked over at Tim's parents and could see tears in Gina's eyes.

“Statistics tell us that one in two people will be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetime. This is not a disease that affects someone else. It affects everyone, whether
it be the patient or their family and friends.” Her throat began to constrict. “Tim was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, a tricky one to catch at an early, treatable stage.

“Cancer statics for firefighters are staggeringly higher than the norm. Researchers found they have a one hundred percent greater risk of developing testicular cancer, a fifty percent higher risk for multiple myeloma and non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, and for prostate cancer it's a twenty-eight percent increase, compared with non-firefighters.

“For all of us who knew Tim, the tragedy of cancer was brutal, since the disease wasn't caught until it had metastasized, leaving him with only a few weeks left to live. But that didn't stop him from living every moment to the fullest. He rode his wheelchair around the hospital wards cheering up other patients, trying to make them laugh. Sometimes a laugh was all he had left to give after a round of chemo. He fought his cancer like the hero and firefighter he was, to the very end.”

Tasha blinked back tears. “I was one of those lucky people who had the privilege of knowing Tim McGinnis my whole life. We were best friends ever since I can remember. I know he would want to help fight this disease by putting money into research, by aiding families with co-pays, and by funding extended hospital stays for his fellow firefighters.

“Tim's parents, Timothy and Regina, created this charity along with many other benefactors to help prevent other parents from losing their children at such a young age. The charity's goal is to aid these true heroes who face dangers on the job every day. The money raised will fund research programs, and give financial
aid to firefighters of the Bay area with cancer, so that they don't have to worry about fighting cancer
fiscally,
too.”

Tasha took another breath and grabbed her glass of water. “We're now going to look at a slide show. There are pictures of a young and vibrant Tim, and then some that show him just a week after he was diagnosed.

“I've interspersed photos of other firefighters in the city, all fighting various forms of cancer. Some of them are children of firefighters.” Her voice faltered. “They are the toughest and most resilient heroes of all.”

She stared out over the audience. “Thank you for coming. After the visual presentation, I hope you'll enjoy the rest of your evening with dancing and a dessert bar. Please be generous for our city's finest and bravest.”

Everyone stood and clapped. Many guests had tears in their eyes. For the first time since Tim had died, Tasha felt she'd done something right.

She looked down at the table with the empty seat between C.J. and her parents. Protocol required her to sit down and watch the slide show with them, but she couldn't. Breaking down in front of them was something just she couldn't handle. Tasha had to get out, and quickly!

She saw her escape through the kitchen. No one would question if she was needed somewhere, to take care of an emergency. Hopefully, her physically weak state wouldn't draw attention.

With every ounce of strength she could muster, she walked as normally as she could off the podium toward the kitchen. Once the doors shut behind her, the tears
stinging her eyes became a flood. Tasha's limp returned. She didn't know where she was headed, she just needed space to breathe.

 

C.J.
WATCHED
T
ASHA'S
poised departure from the podium. He'd been awestruck by her presentation. Now he was filled with conflicted emotions as he looked at pictures of Tim fighting his cancer. C.J. saw himself in one of them with Tasha, the ever beautiful woman inside and out.
She
was the real hero tonight.

It was a picture of the three of them at the hospital a few days before Tim had passed away. The woman staring back at him was different from the one on the podium tonight. She had been in love with Tim, but now had had a year to mourn him. C.J. was eager to see if Tasha would be willing to try to move on with him.

He turned to her mother. “Excuse me, Genevieve. I need to talk to Tasha.”

She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture as she sipped her wine. “Why don't you stay here? She's in charge and is probably busy.”

“I feel I should go find her,” he answered curtly, disgusted by the way her mother just blew her off. How could she not be proud of her daughter's speech and her ability to think up something this big? C.J. stood and went through the kitchen doors to find her.

 

T
ASHA WAS LEANING
against the railing of the roof garden. She'd needed a respite from the draining day and had taken the elevator to the top of the hotel. Somehow she'd maintained her cool through the problems of the
evening with the chef and band. And somehow she'd gotten through her speech.

Terrance had promised he would call or come find her if another disaster arose. She just needed a few moments to compose herself before she faced everyone again.

Ever since she was a young girl, this had been one of her favorite places to eat lunch with her parents. That's why she'd chosen to come up here. On this mild night the air was filled with the intoxicating scents of jasmine and gardenias from the secluded bar and restaurant called the Garden of Eden.

It was famous for its fountains and exotic flowers reminiscent of
One Thousand and One Arabian Nights
. The dim lighting invited visitors to find a quiet alcove to sip a drink or get lost with a lover.

Tasha wished she hadn't run into C.J. at the marathon today. Even if she shut her eyes tightly, she couldn't block his image from her mind. How handsome he looked in his tux tonight, his smile gorgeous when he gazed at her.

More than anything, it brought back all the feelings of inadequacy she'd felt with Tim. The constant third wheel, unloved. The kind of girl who could only be a friend.

Tasha was feeling very sorry for herself tonight. It was pathetic.

“Tasha?” The deep baritone tones that had been haunting her all day took her by surprise. “I've been looking everywhere for you.”

She felt a shudder as he drew closer. “Why?” She
knew the one-word question sounded lame, but she was at her wit's end.

Instead of answering, C.J. handed her a flute of champagne. His eyes never left her face as he rested one arm on the railing. “You're my date. Or did you forget?”

“I don't remember it being a date. I clearly recall telling you we were coming as friends in order to
remember
a friend.”

C.J. gave her a weary smile. “That sounds like one of my lines.”

With that remark, she coughed on the champagne she'd just swallowed, and shook her head. Tasha turned to look at the Golden Gate Bridge, beautifully lit, but her coughing spell continued.

C.J. patted her back. “Let me know if you need CPR.”

“Then you'd get to be—” another round of coughs interrupted her “—a hero twice in one day. I couldn't bear to put you through that.”

Tasha sipped from her flute to suppress another cough. “Seriously, how did you find me? If Terrance told you…” She could feel herself getting all riled up again.

“You can rest assured he didn't give you away. I remember you talking to Tim about the views from the garden of this hotel. When I couldn't find you downstairs, I thought I'd look for you up here.” C.J. gave her a thorough appraisal as he sipped his champagne. “You were right. The sights are incredible.”

“But you're not looking at the city,” she said, going warm from head to toe. “I mean… Oh, I don't know
what I mean.” Tasha rubbed the tense muscles at the back of her neck.

“Bennington off her guard? I don't believe it.” His smile was warm and inviting.

“I'm exhausted, C.J.”

“You gave an incredible speech tonight.” He inched closer as she reeled from his compliment.

Tasha found she had to tip her head back to look up at him as C.J. grasped her hand and led her to a quiet spot. “Where are we going, Captain?”

“Somewhere private.”

Too tired to put up a fight, she let him lead her through the enchanting garden. He found a hidden corner behind a large fountain lit from below to create the appearance of an underwater cavern. There were mosaic tiles on the floor and flowers climbing the walls, all designed to provide a romantic ambience.

She found she didn't care why he'd brought her back here. The champagne had begun to take effect, making her relax a little. That was, until she saw where he wanted to sit—on an overstuffed love seat. She glanced around in confusion, feeling trapped.

“Have you been here before?” she asked.

“No,” he replied lazily.

C.J. sat down and with a simple tug pulled her onto the fat pillows beside him. Their bodies were touching. The contact brought flickers of desire to every cell of her body, terrifying her.

“Do you have any idea how striking you look right now, Tasha?”

She needed to calm that fluttery sensation in her stomach, but when he traced his fingertips across the
back of her hand. Tasha felt as if he'd cast a spell on her. She had no option but to give in to her feelings for him.

His fingers grew bolder as they began to make their way up her arm, filling her with a storm of emotions. Against her better judgment she turned toward him. Their eyes met.

“You look like the goddess Aphrodite.”

“Have you ever seen her?”

“No, but I've heard of her,” he said in a husky voice. As C.J. rubbed her shoulders and played with her hair, something hot raged in his eyes, causing her heart to beat double-time.

Tasha watched his mouth, and her mind reeled with thoughts of how it would feel against hers. His palm cupped the back of her neck, drawing her against him.

So this was what it was like to be seduced.

A little voice in her head urged her to run, but she was too tired. For once she was going to be reckless.

The tender way he kissed her neck was driving her to distraction. She moved her cheek so it would rub against his smooth jaw. Their lips were millimeters away from connecting when C.J.'s cell phone buzzed.

“Shall we stay hidden?” He flashed a smile that made her think anything was possible with him.

“I'd like to, unless you're on call tonight?” Tasha queried playfully.

C.J.'s eyes never left hers as he shook his head. “I'm not on call until tomorrow.” She could see him fumble with his phone before turning it off.

“Will you get in trouble for that?”

“No. I carry another phone on me just in case there's
an emergency.” He gave her a slow wink. “Tasha, you always were a worrier.”

“It's what my clients expect me to be for them.”

“No more talk of work. I can take care of myself and the station.”

C.J. clearly had other things on his mind. She could see his eyes exploring her face and upper body.

“Okay,” she whispered.

His fingertips ran up her arms to her neck, sending shivers coursing through her. Instead of talking, she decided to enjoy the sensation. Now he was drawing circles at her nape.

The air crackled with electricity. He drew her closer and gave her a light kiss on her lips. Just as he moved to deepen it, a phone with a fire alarm ring went off. C.J. reached into the pocket of his tux and pulled out a sleek silver cell. “Powell here.”

Tasha leaned back in the seat, still aflame from his touch and kiss. He jerked back into firefighter mode as if nothing had happened between them. “I'll be right there, Chief. Thanks for the tip. I owe you.”