Where There's Smoke (22 page)

Seth stepped inside and closed the door in a sharp motion, stood before the desk at attention.

Mitch sat back and dragged a hand over his face, still not looking at Seth. The level of apprehension went up a notch.

"I promised myself after the last time we talked that I'd take care to keep our work and professional relationships separate. I didn't realize it would be so hard."

Seth focused on not shifting, not letting Mitch see his discomfort. He definitely would prefer being yelled at.

"She's my only child, my only daughter, and damn if it doesn't kill me to see her hurt by a boy I consider as close as a son.” He did look at Seth then, his eyes tired and—old. Seth almost took a step back at the realization. “I don't understand what the two of you were thinking, throwing away your friendship for—I don't even want to know. Now everything has changed for all of us because of your decision and there's no going back."

"No, sir.” So taking the easy way out had not only cost him his best friend, but his job. He was having trouble breathing that had nothing to do with the smoke.

"We wanted you kids to get married. I don't think any of us realized what would happen if it all went wrong, that it would put Escamillas against Stokes. We thought—we always thought you two were perfect for each other. I don't understand why you don't.” He paused, maybe hoping Seth would jump in with an explanation. Seth kept quiet. “As much as I hate to ask this, Seth,” Mitch took a deep breath. “I want you to put in for a transfer."

Seth had expected it, but the actual words stole his breath. He wanted to stagger, to grab the edge of Mitch's desk, wanted to argue his case. He'd grown up at this station under the guiding hands of Mitch and Oscar, had served here seven years, made friends. He was exactly where he wanted to be. A new station meant more than changes, more than starting over.

Yet a transfer might be best for all of them once Mitch knew the truth, once Mitch knew Seth and Lauren weren't the ones to break up the friendship of the families. Mitch would probably never want to see Seth or Oscar again.

"Can I think about it, sir?"

Mitch narrowed his eyes. “Getting back together with Lauren won't change my mind."

That made Seth mad. “I'd never use her that way, sir."

Something in Mitch's face relaxed, like he thought Seth didn't respect Lauren or something. “Good. I'm glad you're not making promises you won't keep."

"I never lied sir, to her or to you."

"And you feel I'm punishing you unjustly."

"Prematurely."

Mitch raised an eyebrow. “Really? Should I be waiting for the other shoe to drop? What do you know, son, that I don't?"

Seth looked into his eyes a long time. If he only knew. Then he shifted his gaze over the older man's head. “It's not my place to tell you."

Mitch rose slowly, every line of his body taut. “You didn't get my little girl pregnant, did you?"

Seth's eyes flicked back to Mitch's face so fast he thought they'd start rolling in their sockets like slot machine cherries. “No! Sir!"

"Then why should I wait for your transfer?"

Seth debated over how much to share before he said, “Because when you find out, a transfer won't solve any of our problems."

Lauren stared at the storyboard on the drafting table in front of her. Outside her office were the regular sounds, phones ringing, people calling out to each other. She only heard Hilary's last words.

"Why would a bank want a firefighter themed commercial?” Lauren asked.

"It shows their commitment to community. They want different spots with police, and doctors, and teachers, too. I just thought we'd start with the firefighters since we kind of have an in there,” Hilary said, her cheeriness grating on Lauren's already taut nerves.

It wasn't Hilary's fault. She couldn't read Lauren's mind; she couldn't know about the whole Seth fiasco, about the Stokes/Escamilla upheaval. But Lauren couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice. “It's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Firefighters and police are popular in public opinion right now,” Hilary said, not taking offense. “Everyone's been capitalizing on it. They're the American spirit. Valero Bank wants to take that spirit, give it a local feel, and use it to their advantage."

"It doesn't make any sense."

"Since when do you argue about what the customer wants? Come on, this will be a breeze. Just call your dad, tell him we'll be sending a video crew over.” Hilary waved her hands in excitement as a new idea occurred to her. “Maybe you could put Seth in it. It would be the most watched television commercial in town."

Lauren ground her teeth. “We will not be putting Seth in it."

"What? Why? He is, like, so good looking. He'd love to do it. It'd be great publicity for his band, too.” Hilary spread her hands on the table, pushing them outward over the smooth wood in a sultry motion. “The bank would totally love him."

Lauren popped out of her chair and walked over to the window, needing distance from the very idea of Seth. “Look, I'm not even sure this is a doable thing. There might be a clause or something that prohibits firemen from appearing in commercials for a for-profit business."

"Well, you can look into that real easy.” Hilary sat back and Lauren was glad to see her eyes had lost their Seth-lust haze.

Her arguments weren't helping. God, she couldn't even think of going into that firehouse, even if Seth wasn't in residence. She had to turn Hilary to her side. “I'm just thinking these guys have enough going on without having to worry about being in a commercial."

But Hilary wouldn't be swayed. She shook her head. “It won't be time consuming. Why are we having this conversation? I thought you'd be excited. You always are talking about your dad and Seth. I thought this would be a cool way to put a personal stamp on your work."

"I have no desire to put my personal stamp on anything,” Lauren said. “I'll call my dad, but don't get your hopes up."

Lauren waited till she reached the privacy of her cubby to call. “Hey, Dad."

"Lauren! It's good to hear from you."

She did a mental calculation. Had it been that long since she'd called him? She had been avoiding any and all things that had to do with Seth; she'd unconsciously included her own father in that category.

"Are you doing okay?” they asked at the same time and then both laughed, without humor.

"You first,” she said.

"I've been better."

"Me, too."

"I've been running Seth's ass off, if that helps."

"Dad.” She toyed with a pencil on her desk. “He's not the only one at fault here."

"It's good you recognize that. Your mother's not the only one at fault on this end."

Lauren tensed. “Have you talked to her?"

"We've had a couple of conversations, mostly business. She's hurt, though, that you've taken my side without question. She feels like we're teaming up on her. Again."

She hadn't expected a fatherly lecture, at least not on this subject. “We never teamed up on her."

"That's not how she sees it, and her perception matters.” When Lauren couldn't come up with a response, he went on. “Give her a call. I know you're not in the best place right now, but she's your mother, and she loves you."

She wondered if he'd be so forgiving if he knew why Valerie had left him. “I'll call her,” she promised, crossing her fingers behind her back childishly. “Look, Dad, I have a favor, and feel free to say no."

"You want me to transfer Seth? The paperwork's been done."

Horrified, she dropped the pencil. “Dad! No! You can't transfer him, not because of me. Trust me when I say he's not to blame for everything."

"I know, honey. This is my own weakness. I can't treat him fairly, knowing he's hurt you."

"Dad, that's terrible. You're the captain. You have to be fair to everyone. If you can see Mom's side in all this, can't you see Seth's?” He couldn't transfer Seth away from his friends, away from the firehouse he'd known his whole life. She held her breath as she waited.

He blew out a sigh, as if he had also been holding a breath. “All right. You're right, of course. I'll shred the paperwork and let him know."

She slumped and tried not to imagine how Seth must have felt with that hanging over his head. But would he appreciate her interference? Probably not. Good thing he wasn't talking to her.

"Okay, now for the real favor. And I really mean it when I say feel free to say no. Valero Bank wants to do a series of commercials with people from the community, firefighters, cops, doctors, like that. Hilary thought we'd start with firefighters, since we have an
in
there. But if there's anything in your contract or something that prevents you from doing this, you know, we'll tell the bank and think of something else."

"Why would a bank want firefighters in a commercial?"

She grinned. They were too much alike. “They're looking for a community connection. But seriously, Dad, you can say no.” She enunciated the words in case he hadn't heard the first two times.

"Would we get paid?"

"I imagine a small fee."

"That could be the only holdup. Now if they wanted to make a donation to the fire department instead of paying us individually, that would be great.” He sounded way too excited by the prospect.

"I was kind of hoping for a ‘no way in hell', here."

"Yeah, I figured that out. I'm old but I'm not slow. Would doing this be that hard for you?"

She sighed. She didn't appear to have a choice. “It wouldn't have to be. If you could just—would you give me his schedule so I don't run into him?” Just like she'd done with Eddie. But she never remembered hurting this bad after Eddie, like every breath was an effort.

"Is it always going to be like this?” her father asked, his tone gentling. “The two of you were so close."

She squeezed her eyes shut and imagined running into Seth. The pain even the fantasy brought was unbearable. “For a while longer. Yeah."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. All right. Let me get you that information."

"It's a go,” she told Hilary a few moments later. “We just need to get the bank to make a donation to the fire department."

Hilary's eyes widened. “That will be even better. We can have a small print disclaimer on the ad about the donation. That will make Valero seem even more committed to the community.” She looked closer at Lauren. “Why aren't you more excited about this? This is a big deal."

Lauren shook her head and wondered why she couldn't tell her best friend about her broken heart, especially when doing so might stop this idea in its tracks. Was she so accustomed to keeping secrets now? “I don't know. It just feels—"

"I know what it is!” Hilary said triumphantly. “Seth has a new girlfriend."

Lauren's head snapped up. “What?"

"You always get mopey when Seth gets a new girlfriend. That's got to be what it is."

"I do not!” Did she? God, how long had that been going on? She'd loved him forever, but how long had she allowed other people to see it? How humiliating.

Hilary waved a hand. “Of course you do. And you always deny it. It's like you're jealous of the time he spends with her.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to Lauren. “Or you're just plain jealous."

Lauren's face heated. She needed to get out of here now, before Hilary saw too much. “Of course I'm not jealous. That's ridiculous. We're friends. Only friends!” And she bolted, leaving Hilary with a knowing smile.

Even though she knew he wasn't supposed to be at the station, Lauren scanned the lot for Seth's truck. She wondered how many years she'd been doing that. Still, she'd never been relieved not to see it before. She retrieved her briefcase, which she didn't really need, but needing it as a security blanket.

The first person she saw was Mary Ann, Seth's other buddy. At least she was alone in the bay. “Hey, Mary Ann."

"Hey, Lauren.” Mary Ann straightened from her task of sweeping out the bay. “I haven't seen you around here in awhile."

"No.” She looked down, not sure what to say.

"He's not here.” Mary Ann's tone grew softer. “But I guess you know that or you wouldn't be here."

Tears sprang to Lauren's eyes at the unexpected sympathy. She could deal with pretty much everything else, just not sympathy. She hadn't told Hilary for that reason. She only nodded an acknowledgement.

Mary Ann moved closer. “For what it's worth, he's a fool. He can't possibly know what he's doing to walk away from this kind of love. It's a once in a lifetime deal."

Lauren gave a sobbing laugh at the finality of that last sentence. “That is so not what I wanted to hear."

Mary Ann patted her arm awkwardly. “You didn't want to hear what an idiot the boy is?"

"Oh, that I already know."

Mary Ann snuffled a laugh, trying to hold it back, and failed. She burst out, gales of girlish laughter ringing off the high metal roof. Firefighters stuck their heads out of doors to see what was going on. Lauren could only stare at the strange, joyful sound coming from the serious, withdrawn woman.

Mary Ann swiped her eyes and slapped Lauren on the arm enthusiastically. “You're going to be all right, hon. You'll be just fine."

Lauren had been to the station so many times she didn't have to spend much time figuring out how she wanted to set the scene for the commercial. Because the firefighter's lives were so unpredictable, she scheduled the shoot for the same week, and planned not to show up if it happened to coincide with Seth's duty.

Feeling good about accomplishing so much in a short period, she strode down the driveway of the firehouse, swinging her briefcase, and found herself face to face with Seth.

His expression showed he was as startled as she was, and behind her, the sounds of the firehouse quieted. Damn, an ambush. Who had called him? Lauren had a sneaking suspicion. She'd like to shove that delightful laugh back down Mary Ann's throat.

Damn, he looked wonderful, in his snug t-shirt and jeans faded in all the good places. She wanted to weep with longing for what they'd lost, and then suddenly remembered she had been crying a few moments ago. She quickly wiped at whatever mascara might be shadowing her eyes, hating herself for the vanity even as she did so.