CHAPTER TWO

      After lunch, Graci-Ella hurried to the law library for a book on quasi-torts and opened the glass door to find the lawyer at the top of the firm’s food chain. After a polite exchange of greetings, she took a deep breath and asked if she could spend some money to make her ex-storage room, now office more workable. To her relief, he gave her permission and also told her to have the building manager show her the office furniture the firm no longer used. Maybe she could find some things there, especially since some of the junior partners had just ordered new office cabinets and desks.

      Mental fist pump. Score!

      So, when she normally took her afternoon break, she knocked on the building manager’s door. With her room’s layout sketched on paper, she’d asked him if he had anything that matched and was usable. “Oh, and comfortable would be nice too.”

      He scratched his head for a minute. “Didn’t this used to be the old supply room before they made a bigger one?”

      “You got it, Jo-Jo. In there sits a huge metal desk—brown. Two metal file cabinets—gray. One metal folding client chair—red. A black office chair that leans and has upended with me in it—five times.”

      “How long you been here? A couple years?” He shook his tanned bald head, trimmed with a fringe of white hair. “Ain’t that a damn shame. Bet you’re still getting the shit cases no one else wants. And I lay you dollars to donuts, you’re putting in more hours than anyone else, trying to prove yourself.” He ambled away from her and motioned over his shoulder. “Follow me. Ol’ Jo-Jo gonna treat you right.” He glanced at the paper again. “These measurements correct?”

      “Yes, sir.” She glanced around and saw two dark-green leather, club chairs that matched. She rubbed her hands over the soft leather. “Oh, wish I had room for these. I love the color.”

      Jo-Jo shoved a matching wheeled office chair her way. “Try that on for size. I can adjust the height for you, lumbar support too.” He pulled out a unit with two horizontal filing drawers and book shelves on top of those. A corner unit was next, along with a desk. He measured the corner unit and desk together and looked at his paper. He found two other matching units. One had filing drawers, but was deeper. A skinnier one had shelves with lockable sliding doors. “Which one do you want?” He pointed to the thinner one. This will give you eight more inches of room.”

      “I’ll take it. One question. The aluminum strips that hold the ceiling tiles, are they strong enough to hang a plant?”

      “If the pot’s plastic and you don’t drench the plant with water, yes. No more than two, though.”

      She opened her arms. “So, I can have all this? And it’ll still leave me room to move around in my tiny office?” After Jo-Jo showed her how to place everything on her drawing, she hugged him and squealed with joy. She didn’t think she’d stopped smiling the rest of the afternoon.

      Once her day at the office was over, she grabbed a salad at her favorite take-out spot and went home to eat and unwind. High heels in hand, she went into her bedroom to change into something cool and comfortable. She called Tiny to make sure the firefighters were there before she drove to the station.

      “Boyd here.”

      “So, I finally learn your real name.” She smiled as she pulled a tank top from her drawer.

      “All you needed to do was ask me. I have no secrets.” His deep voice raised goosebumps on her skin.

      “Are we in a grumpy mood this evening?”

      “No.” He sighed. “Maybe. Was my night to cook and I burned the lasagna. We had a marine rescue earlier this afternoon, so I thought if turned the oven up to five hundred, supper would get done quicker.”

      She laughed. “Oh no. Who puts the oven up that high?”

      “A man whose hungry, that’s who. All it did was set off the smoke alarms and cause me to get my ass chewed out. I’m trying to figure how to get the scorched cheese and meat out of the pans. Hey, you don’t do dishes do you?” A tinge of his humor was in his voice. “Have you ever eaten lasagna with a fork in one hand and a chainsaw in another?”

      Once she stopped laughing, she made a suggestion. “Run a knife along the edge to get out what you can and then soak them in hot, soapy water for a while. I’m just calling to make sure the team will be there if I come by.”

      “As of now, we’re just cleaning equipment. Routine stuff. Come on over.”

      When she pulled into the parking lot of Fire and Marine Rescue Station Thirty-two, Wolf and a curvy redhead were sitting at a picnic table under a palm tree. A German shepherd sat on Wolf’s lap as if he hadn’t seen his master for weeks. Wolf waved her over as she pulled out a canvas bag of calendars and a portfolio of pictures.

      “Graci-Ella, come meet my wife, Becca. Don’t you think she glows with her pregnancy?” The man’s smile nearly split his face in two. He reached for his wife’s hand and kissed her knuckles.

      Becca pursed her lips and blushed. “I’m surprised you don’t make me wear a sandwich sign that reads, ‘This woman is pregnant!’ She stood and shook Graci-Ella’s hand. “Never mind him. He’s just happy we finally got it right. So, you’re the photographer everyone’s teasing Tiny about?”

      Something in the woman’s kind demeanor made Graci-Ella smile. “Yes, I’m the photographer, but why are folks ragging Tiny about me?”

      Becca leaned in. “Because he hasn’t dated since he was served with custody papers for his little boy. He’s trying so hard to be Mr. Perfect. You evidently rattled his celibacy cage when you showed up this morning.”

      Was that why he was so adamant about not being in the calendar? Did he think avoiding women would look favorable to the court? Was he divorced or still married? That would be the deciding factor, that and how often he left his son with a sitter overnight.

      The dog looked at Wolf as if he were insulted and whined. He licked Wolf’s chin, no doubt to remind him he was there.

      Wolf rubbed the canine’s head. “Sorry, buddy. Graci-Ella, this is Einstein. If you call him over, he’ll offer you his paw to shake. He’s the best dog in the world.”

      Einstein barked and jumped down. Graci-Ella called him over and he pranced around the end of the picnic table, his tongue lolling crooked from his mouth. He sat in front of her and held out his paw. She shook it gently. “My, aren’t you handsome? Do you have a leash along? I’ll walk you around the building.”

      Einstein romped to Becca and gently took a leash from her hand before giving it to Graci-Ella. “Does he enjoy running?” She petted Einstein as she clipped the leash onto his collar.

      “He loves a