Page 12 of The Fireman and the Flirt

I sat on her desk, which was cleaned off except for her laptop and pictures of her kids. “Which is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can I go into this meeting not knowing? Either he never read the letter, or he did. And if he did, does he even remember it? I can’t bring it up to him, but I need to know.” Our phone call last night gave me no hints. He was normal, casual. It was actually a nice conversation with an easy flow, despite my awkwardness.

“Wait for him to bring it up. And if he doesn’t, make like Elsa and let it go.”

Easier said than done.

Hannah leaned back in her chair and propped her legs on my lap. “You know, he might feel the same way about you. Maybe he’s loved you back all these years.”

“Doubtful. And for the record, I never loved Derek. It was never about love. It was about lust. I didn’t doodleCP plus DH 4everin my notebook. I had very vivid fantasies about him, but none of them involved a fairy tale ending.”

I’d learned the hard way that it was safer to bend over for a guy than to bare your soul. Bad sex was bad sex, but betrayal cut to the bone.

“I’m not letting a little crush and a little letter get in the way of a potential commission. We are so close to beating the Morris brothers for the year.”

Hannah grunted out a sound of disgust from the back of her throat, a common response to the thought of Tad and Chad. Despite all their underhandedness, we were neck and neck for top team of the year. The winner received an all-expenses paid trip to Bali with the other top performing agents across the country.

“If I’m able to find Derek the house of his dreams before the end of the year, then we can stop Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dickhead from getting our trip.” So that meant I had to keep my awkwardness to myself and ignore all pestering thoughts about the letter.

Our office line rang with a call from Brenda, the admin up front. I put the call on speaker.

“Hey Brenda! What’s up?” I asked.

“There’s a gentleman here to see you. Derek Hogan.”

Hearing his name made my stomach plummet twenty-seven floors. Hannah and I shared a look; she was equally nervous for me.

It was go time.

5

DEREK

The Prescott Realty Group lobby was the type of place I usually avoided. It had sleek black leather chairs around a glass coffee table dotted with copies ofVanity FairandArchitectural Digest. I clocked a sparkling water dispenser in the corner. Way too fancy for me. But I was doing this to get Cal off my back.

I hadn’t seen Cary in over twenty years, and I barely remembered what he looked like, but when a man swept into the waiting room in a whoosh of barely contained manic energy, I knew instantly it was him.

My little brother’s quirky, nerdy friend, all grown up.

He was well put-together, not a surprise at a place like this. His dress shirt was a vibrant shade of red, fitted to show off his trim figure. His gray slacks funneled down to shiny black loafers that were likely some high-falutin designer. A stark contrast to my ratty boots with frayed laces.

“Derek. Nice to see you.” Cary studied me for a moment, perhaps looking for recognition in my face. My memories of him were fuzzy.

We shook hands, his grip surprisingly strong and confident.

“It’s been a minute.” He let out what I perceived as a nervous laugh, though I couldn’t understand why he was nervous. He seemed like someone who sold lots of houses and worked with all sorts of people.

“Yep. I’m back in town.”

“I heard, I heard. You look different. All grown up. I guess you were grown up back then, but you know what I mean. I don’t think you had a beard.”

“You look grown up, too,” I said. “Nice shirt.”

“Thanks. Tis the season.”

Something told me he was the kind of guy who wore bold shirts like that all year.

---