Page 25 of The Fireman and the Flirt

That was a question I needed to ask a professional. Somewhere on my long to-do list, right under starting a gratitude journal, was finding a therapist. Until then, there was Hannah.

“I basically told him the shower in the main bathroom was perfect for shower sex.”

“I mean, was that something he described wanting?” We’d had clients who wanted hardcore bachelor pads, so the question wasn’t out of line.

“No. It kinda came out of nowhere. Well, not nowhere. Wewerein the shower together…”

She slammed her laptop shut. “Cary.”

“Hannah?”

“Did you hear the words that came out of your mouth?”

“I usually try not to.” I didn’t need to listen to my madness making its way into the world. “We weren’t showering together. It’s another funny story.” I let out a nervous chuckle.

“Have you noticed that you’re the only one laughing during these funny stories? And to answer your previous question, no I’ve never accidentally flirted with a client. And you’re not supposed to either, especially with this one.”

“I know.” I slid into the seat next to her like I was a stream of molten lava. “I told myself to keep things professional. I couldn’t help it. He does things to me. He triggers the flirty part of my brain.”

“Your prefrontal whoretex?”

“Good one,” I said. Hannah patted herself on the shoulder. “It’s his fault for being so hot.”

Derek put me on perpetual high alert, and yet he also put me at ease. Considering how nervous I could feel around him, we’d very quickly worked up a banter between us.

Hannah walked to the beverage station, poured herself a large cup of ice, and plunked it right in front of me. I tossed a pair of ice cubes in my mouth and munched away, as I’d done many times before.

“Did he say anything about the letter?” she asked.

“No. He has zero recollection of it.”

“Well, that’s good. You must feel relieved. The only awkwardness is in your head.”

“Yeah,” I said without her enthusiasm. I avoided a mountain of embarrassment. Yet it was hard to explain why I felt disheartened. I would never know what his reaction would’ve been, just like I’d never know what would’ve happened if we marinated in our uncomfortable silence in the shower for a few more seconds. The not knowing was its own punishment.

“Your secret is safe.”

What good did a safe secret ever do anyone?

A loud ding of the sales bell cut through our conversation. Whenever a house closed, the agent on the sale rang a big bell in the center of the office. It was supposed to be about celebrating a teammate’s success, but in reality, it was another way for an agent to show off.

The Morris brothers beamed by the bell, giving each other their stupid special handshake. Co-workers gathered around and applauded them.

“Bali here we come!” Tad shouted.

“We got ten grand above asking. We couldn’t have done it without Jesus, of course, and all of you,” said Chad, who only found Christ for the business connections in his church.

The brothers Morris caught me and Hannah looking at them. Tad gave us cutting winks.

Game on.

“Cary, we can’t lose to these guys. I can’t stand another year of the Morris brothers gloating and mansplaining my job to me.” Hannah stood up and stuck her laptop under her arm. “Get your shit together, keep it in your pants, and make this sale.”

“I will. I won’t let this happen again.”

Two days later,Derek texted me, and I had the unprofessional reaction of a full bodied swoon when I saw his name pop up on my screen. I would work on that.

Derek: I think I found a house I like.

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