Page 16 of Chasing Mr. December

“One of her cronies had been videotaping them on scene without their knowledge,” Jenson says. “I still think she wanted the Botox for cosmetic reasons and was mad we wouldn’t accommodate her request.”

“Jesus.” I slump back in my chair before remembering the adage about things coming in threes. “I’m almost afraid to ask…”

Again, my two lunch companions peer uncomfortably at one another.

“So, we were pushed into hiring the old Fire Chief’s son. He had a reputation for being a bad egg. He was young, reckless, liked to party. Nothing about it felt like a good idea. Hell, I honestly don’t even think he wanted to be a firefighter. He got forced into it by his dad.” Layton reaches for his water and takes a heavy gulp. My spine stiffens at the action, worried where this one’s going. “Once he was onboard, he was allowed to respond to calls from home on occasion, since he only lived a few miles away.”

“Uh oh.”

“Oh, you havenoidea,” Jenson says before looking up to the ceiling.

“The station gets a call for a fire at the old Afton place. It’s been there, like over 100 years.” I wince, knowing where this is going. “Boy wonder is supposed to meet us at the station, not the address of the call. So, the crew waits. And waits. They finally go to his house to grab him on the way when he doesn’t answer his radio. Turns out numb nuts is distracted by the naked young girl in his bed.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Now, I personally don’t think anything would’ve saved that house. It was basically a tinder box one match short of a bonfire. But everyone blamed the loss on our station because of the delay in reaching it.”

I grimace, feeling Layton’s angst right along with him.

“Only thing worse, the young lady this douche canoe deflowered was the police chief’s seventeen-year-old daughter. We had to hear all about what the priorities of the fire department were on every news channel, in every glare from the public. We were all guilty by association.”

“Damn, Layton. I’m shocked you stayed. That would be a lot for anyone to have to deal with.”

“I know. We lost a lot of good people. But Magnolia Point is my home. It’s important to me. If we can actually manage to turn things around, it’d be the miracle I’ve been hoping for.”

We head out, and as we reach the door, I’m struck by the familiar scent of warm vanilla. I inwardly curse my body’s reaction to her as my pulse begins to quicken.

“Hey, Layton. I guess itisTuesday.” Quinn giggles. Her eyes hold mine and that same spark swirling between us I’ve felt the last two times I saw her reemerges. There’s no denying it. Whether she’s trying to help the station or not, it’s unsettling. She’s the very last person I need to entertain thoughts about.

Layton greets, “Hey, Mr. Mayor.”

My eyes dart from Quinn to her father, Nigel Patterson. While he and my father have remained close friends over the years, I haven’t seen him since the fateful night of my rehearsal dinner all those years ago.

“Welcome back, Jason,” Nigel says. The phrase instantly irks me. That he’d be welcoming me back here.

Make no mistake, I’m only passing through.

Yet before I can come up with a reply, my gaze trails over Nigel’s shoulder to a face I could’ve done without seeing on this trip.

Or ever.

If only my icy stare could place a protective force field in place, so I wouldn’t have to interact with Quinn’s brother, my ex-best friend.

“Hey, Jase.”

Chapter 11

Quinn

Reaching for the colorful flier as it lands in the printer tray, I feel a sense of pride. These turned out great. If I can get all of my ducks in a row, no pun intended, this festival could be a huge success.

Walking back over to my desk, I try to examine the tickets I designed to hand out to adopt a duck, but I’m too distracted. My mind keeps wandering to the look on Jason’s face when Ian walked into the Riverside café. It’s clear he hasn’t been able to forgive and forget. But that’s between the two of them. There’s nothing I can do about it.

Attempting to get back on track, I refocus on the task at hand. I’m hoping the event is so popular we have thousands of rubber duckies floating down the May River. Biting the end of my nail, I consider how fantastic this would look on the news and social media. I jot down contacting the paper and a few contacts toget as much publicity for the town as possible once photos are available.

Gosh, this could be the start of a yearly event. The beginning of holiday festivities in Magnolia Point with merchants selling their wares at the Winter Village and the annual tree lighting, then culminating with Bathtub Party Day and the ducks racing down the May. I smile brightly, knowing I have a long way to go to get to that point. Yet you can’t make your dreams happen if you can’t visualize them, right?

Gathering up the fliers and tickets, I decide to drop them off at the local print shop on my way to visit the shelter. I need to review the photoshoot with Corbin, the shelter manager. It probably wouldn’t do to have a dog with a poor disposition paired up with, well, Baxter, for example. I’m tempted to growl at that egotistical blowhard most days. It might be more temptation that one of those mutts can handle.

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