Ominous silence reigned over the rest of Sabina’s time off. Max left town, presumably to pick up Annabelle. Sabina didn’t hear a word from either of them, even though every ring of her cell phone made her jump. Vader kept calling, but she didn’t have time for his homophobia phobia, so she didn’t answer.
She dropped in at La Piaggia once, checking very cautiously to make sure no irresistibly sexy training officers were on the premises. Anu hadn’t seen Roman since that first night. She offered her a plate of samosas and a dire glare.
“It’s all your fault. He’s afraid of you,” she accused Sabina.
“Glad to hear it. Maybe he’ll lighten up on the drills.”
“This is no joking matter. I had a genuinely brilliant cook in my kitchen for one brief, shining moment and now I’ll never see him again. You never even tasted that sauce. And by the way, did you know this restaurant is named for a beach?”
“Well, yes. I thought it was intentional.”
“I asked my parents, but they no longer remember why they chose that name. I’m pretty sure they’ll soon forget it’s an Italian restaurant altogether.”
Sabina dipped a samosa in a spicy mint chutney. “So what was the sauce like?”
“Sensational and sensual. You cannot even imagine. His son was right. I nearly considered divorcing Pradeep and marrying that fireman. But my poor parents would never recover from the shame.”
“Maybe they’ll forget you’re married.”
“One can always hope. Besides, I have him earmarked for someone else.” She winked one bright eye.
“Oh no.” Sabina dropped the last samosa back on the plate and backed away as if from a cobra about to strike. “Keep your crazy Indian matchmaking skills to yourself.”
“Me? I don’t need to do a thing. Just do me one favor. When he’s your husband, will you allow him to cook here, say, once a week? Friday nights would be best.”
Sabina fled to the tune of Anu’s delighted laughter.
She’d checked in with Carly a couple times since the disastrous practice, but could extract no explanation for the strange incident. The coach was just as mystified as everyone else. But he was determined to keep them both on the team as long as they behaved themselves.
“Why should I quit the team because of some new kid?” Carly shouted into the phone when Sabina informed her of the coach’s decision.
“Coach won’t tolerate any misbehavior.”
“Tell him, not me.”
Between one thing and another, it was a relief to start her next shift. Never mind all the issues with Roman—she could handle that. She could handle anything as long as she had San Gabriel Fire Station 1 and the guys.
During lineup, she ignored Vader’s wounded sidelong looks. “Cherie still won’t bone me,” he hissed at her as they broke off for proficiency exercises. “And you’re not helping. These blue balls have your name all over them.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“And uncomfortable.” He sulked as they filtered into the apparatus bay. “You said you’d help me.” Sabina ignored him, clasped her hands behind her back, and watched as Roman took Ace, the ridiculously good-looking blond surfer-boy rookie, through his paces on the breathing apparatus.
The kid was practically shaking as he gave a breakdown on the apparatus, then explained to the assembled veterans how buddy breathing worked. Sabina remembered that deer-in-the-headlights feeling—multiplied by ten in her case, knowing that female firefighters had an extra burden to prove themselves. Thanks to her TV training, she’d never lost her cool. She’d gained a lot of respect that way, and supposed she ought to thank Annabelle, though her mother didn’t even know about her new career. They’d stopped talking after one last epic battle in which an enraged Annabelle started counting the “woman-hours” she’d put into raising Sabina. “And now you want to walk away whenever you please? You owe me. You owe the show!” Maybe that’s what had bothered Sabina the most—the fact that Annabelle cared more about the show. Shortly after her mother had cut off communication, Sabina had signed over her earnings so she couldn’t possibly owe her mother anything.
Ace stumbled his way through the exercise, with Roman offering only a few corrections. When he was done, Psycho shouted, “Hey Acie, this your first time breaking down the breather?”
Ace swallowed and nodded proudly.
“It’s a first! Ice cream for the crew.”
Cheers erupted, and even Roman displayed a grim little smile. “Don’t mess with tradition.”
Just then the long tone that signaled a fire call sounded. “Reported structure fire at 1500 South Mall Plaza. Task Force 1, Task Force 2, Engine 4, Engine 5, and Battalion 1 respond to the reported structure fire at 1500 South Mall Plaza. Incident number 306, time of alarm 10:32.”
Everyone hurried to don turnout gear. Roman climbed into Engine 1 ahead of her, taking a spot in the backseat. The top of his helmet nearly brushed the roof of the engine. She put on her headphones.
“Training opportunity,” said Roman. “I’ll be taking notes, guys.”
Wonderful. Sabina tried to ignore his imposing presence, but her position, squished between him and Vader, made it impossible. Actually, it would have been impossible if he’d been across a room behind a glass wall. The man could not be ignored.
Double D, the engineer, punched the address into the GPS as the big door of the apparatus bay lifted. Sabina rolled her eyes. Everyone knew where the mall was, but Double D loved that GPS. He turned the sirens on and they zoomed out of the bay into the street.
Vader looked as nervous as she felt. So did Double D. Even Captain Kelly looked tense. For the first time, Chief Roman would be working a fire alongside them, watching their every move.
When they screeched to a halt outside the mall, they saw a small crowd outside the double door of the entrance. It didn’t look like an emergency was in the works. People lounged against the concrete retaining walls, a few people were smoking cigarettes, a couple of kids were playing with skateboards. On the tactical channel, someone said, “False alarm? Kids playing a prank, maybe.”
What an anticlimax. Sabina debated donning her face piece but didn’t see the point based on the lack of a fire. But she supposed they had to go through the motions. Roman spotted a security guard and headed off to question him. Sabina forged through the crowd at the door, ignoring a whistle from one of the skateboarders.
Inside the mall, she finally spotted a wisp of smoke. So there actually was a fire. Luckily, the wide, echoing central corridor of the mall was already emptied of people. Either it was a slow day or the security guards had already evacuated everyone. She sniffed, picking up a very odd scent.
She spoke into her mic. “Visual confirmation of the structure fire. Unable to identify the smell, but the smoke appears yellow.”
“The smell?” Roman’s deep voice rattled her helmet. “Where’s your face piece?”
Holy Mother of . . . She snapped her face piece into place. “It’s on. Now.”
“Jones.” His voice scorched the radio. “You went into the hot zone without your face piece. You’ve been exposed.”
“But . . . there wasn’t a fire . . .” She trailed off, knowing anything she said now would make it worse. She’d let down her guard—and her face piece. What a boneheaded, rookie, idiot move.
“Come on out of there, Jones. Hazmat’s on its way.”
Sabina looked around desperately. Wasn’t there something she could do to fix her horrible mistake? Maybe some recon? “The smoke appears to be coming from Charmed, I’m Sure. It’s a shop on the left, halfway down. It caters to the tween crowd, selling charms for bracelets and such. I appear to be experiencing no ill-effects from ingesting the smoke, no burning throat, no stinging eyes.”
“Anyone still in there?”
“I don’t see anyone. Wait, there’s someone coming out of the shop.” She ran toward a skinny girl with spiked hair and a pierced eyebrow, who was being chased by a billow of smoke the color of a yellowing bruise. When she reached the empty hall, she stumbled to her knees, coughing.
Sabina ran to her side. “Are you all right?” Even though Sabina spoke through her face piece, the girl seemed to understand, and nodded.
“Come on.” Sabina hauled her to her feet and dragged her down the hall. “You have to get out of here.”
Tears streamed down the girl’s face. “I’m so going to get fired.”
“Don’t worry about that right now. Can you identify the chemical?”
“I followed the instructions!” the girl wailed. “I swear.”
“What instructions? What were you doing?”
“It was a . . . a . . . I mean, it’s just henna or something . . . maybe sage . . . then I lit a candle for ambience, you know, and it caught on a Glamour Kitty shirt and . . . here.”
She thrust an empty package into Sabina’s gloved hand and ran for it. Sabina paused to scan the package. She squinted at it through her face piece, then gave up and raised it again. What the hell, she’d already been exposed. She was already in trouble.
When she pushed open the entrance door and stepped outside into the clean air, she found herself face-to-face with Chief Roman. He looked even grimmer than usual behind the shield of his face piece.
“Firefighter Jones. What the hell are you doing?”
“You can call off the hazmat team, Chief. She was making a love potion.”
Back at the station, the firefighters gathered around the TV to watch the local news.
“Check it out, Ella Joy’s talking about the mall fire.”
Roman glanced at the TV, which displayed a graphic reading “The Sunny Side of the News.” An exquisite part-Asian news anchor was speaking.
“San Gabriel firefighters rushed to the South Desert Mall today after receiving reports of an unknown chemical spill. Fears of a potentially deadly hazmat threat fizzled when an employee of Charmed, I’m Sure admitted she’d been brewing a love potion in the back room. The brave firefighters quickly dealt with the situation. The question remains, did the potion actually work?”
The anchor winked as a graphic unfurled beneath her. It read, “The Bachelor Firemen of San Gabriel.”
“Did her love potion magically summon the nation’s most desirable firefighters to the scene? No word yet from Charmed, I’m Sure as to whether they’re planning to brew any bigger batches of the concoction.”
Dio. Exactly what the fire chief didn’t want.
“Turn that crap off.”
The firemen jumped and someone scrambled for the remote. In the silence that followed, Roman gestured for them to gather around.
“That performance was unacceptable. You’ve gotten lax. You’ve gotten slow. A bunch of probies back in New York could have done better. A hazmat situation is one of the most dangerous any firefighter can encounter. Procedures must be followed to the letter, every single time, no exceptions.”
The crew nodded, though he detected resentment on a few faces.
“We’ll be conducting hazmat drills until you can do them in your sleep. If any of you need a refresher before we start, grab a manual from my office. Firefighter Jones.”
She met his gaze with her chin up.
“I’m going to have to write you up.”
Her lips tightened, but she offered no other reaction. Vader, on the other hand, swung his head from side to side like a prizefighter. “But Chief, it wasn’t a hazmat call. It was a freakin’ love potion.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“You’re going to write her up for a love potion?”
“We didn’t know what it was. It could have been a chemical attack by persons unknown.”
“At the mall? What, eighth-graders gone wild?”
“Shut up, Vader,” Sabina snapped. “The chief’s right. I screwed up.” Clearly she didn’t enjoy admitting that. Her turquoise eyes glittered.
Roman dismissed the meeting and headed into his office, where the phone was already ringing.