Chapter
Things were not going well. In fact, JFK couldn’t remember doing so poorly at anything in a very long time as he was doing on this date tonight.
Not that it was a real date and he had any sort of chance with Mercy, but even on a friend-zone level, he was the worst ever. The guys always gave each other a hard time at the station, but now even their wives—Dom included—were mad-dogging him. Just because he didn’t help Mercy sit down? Was it really that big of a deal? How hard was it to sit down?
JFK stole a glance at his gorgeous date. Man, he could look at her all night and all day.
Yeah, it was a big deal to help her sit down. She’d told him so. But JFK didn’t know how to do any of that chivalry crap, so why even try? He’d just end up making a fool of himself. Of course, could that be worse than feeling like a steaming pile of crap?
He hated feeling like this. He needed something to make fun of. Dom was always a good target. “You decided to let Emily wear the dress, Dom?”
Emily was wearing a fancy red dress and Dom was wearing his pilot uniform. They actually blended pretty well with the rest of the group. The other female firefighters in the room had opted for dresses as well, but all of their husbands just wore regular suits, making them blend in more with the day workers, secretaries, and IT people.
Dom was not amused. They both knew JFK was not good enough for Mercy, and Dom wasn’t about to just let the chair thing go. “How about some introductions?” said Dom.
Oh. Yeah, he probably should have thought of that. “Pointing at each person around the table, he said, “Quad C, Sage, Emily, Dom, Powers, and Poppy. Everyone, this is Mercy.”
He dug in, ready for the barrage of insults about them being an odd couple. How’d you get her to feel sorry enough for you to go out with you? What are you holding over her head? It’s like the supermodel agreeing to go to the prom with the nerd.
Poppy, sitting next to Mercy, said, “It’s so great to formally meet you. What do you do?”
“I just graduated,” said Mercy, and some of her earlier excitement came back.
A round of congratulations came from the table and Sage asked, “What did you study?”
“Business Management with an emphasis on Non-profits.”
“Really?” asked Poppy. Her smile was big and brilliant. “I run a non-profit. Two Heart Rescue, it’s a no-kill all animal shelter.”
“Wow! That’s amazing,” said Mercy. “You know anyone who’s hiring?”
“Hm. Not off the top of my head, but I’ll put feelers out.”
Powers spoke up. “What about that new position you guys are adding?”
“It’s only part time,” said Poppy. “Barely pays more than minimum wage.”
“I’ll take it,” said Mercy excitedly.
“Really?” asked Poppy. “I was going to post it tomorrow, but if you’re interested come by tomorrow and we can chat.”
“What time?” asked Mercy hungrily.
“Noon?”
“I’ll be there with my muck boots on.”
Poppy wasn’t the only non-profit connection at the table. JFK said, “Powers, what about your nerdy grant business?” Mercy was finally into the evening and he wanted to have at least a small part in that.
“I was going to mention that,” Powers said. “I’ve been thinking about hiring an assistant, but it’s not a done deal yet. If you need help writing up a résumé or researching non-profits, I’ll be glad to help.”
“Yes!” said Mercy. “Wow, you guys are great.”
“You thought the Jewell family was close,” said Dom. “These guys really step up for each other.”
Quad C added, “When we’re not too busy stepping on each other anyway.”
A server approached the table and asked if she could get everyone something to drink.
“I’ll have a beer,” said JFK, pointing to the bottle in front of Dom.
“Actually,” said Dom, “if you wouldn’t mind taking this, I’ll go with water.”
Oh crap. Mercy’s sobriety. “Uh, me too,” said JFK. To Mercy he muttered, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “Water for me too,” she told the server.
When the server left, carrying Dom’s half-full bottle, Mercy told them both, “You don’t have to baby me.” To the rest of the table she explained, “I’m in recovery. Got my two-year coin two days ago.” She pinched her coin pendant.
A small round of applause and more congratulations came from the group.
Mercy told Poppy, “If that changes things with the job interview, I get it.”
“Absolutely not,” said Poppy. “I respect your strength.”
JFK had stepped in it again, and, once again, Dom and his perfect manners had stepped right over it and to the rescue. Was there any way to keep up with him? Maybe he’d give JFK some pointers. Or more like a ten-week, intensive class on manners. JFK didn’t have anything against chivalry, he just didn’t know how to do it. The only girl he’d spent time around over the last couple of years was Emily, and she was as likely to burp at the dinner table as any of them. And it was fine. That was life in the fire station. No one wanted her to be a girl or a woman, just to be one of the guys and do a d—dangerously good job.
Anything JFK did tonight was likely to be wrong. He just wanted the night to be over. It was bad enough squeezing into a suit that fit him seven years ago, and was now seven sizes too small, but to fail so badly with his hot date was torture. He was about to say something about the girly flower on Quad C’s lapel when the fire chief stepped up to the podium and announced that dinner would be first, then they’d get into the year-in-review video and awards.
It was going to be a long night, and he didn’t even have a drink to take the edge off.