“We’ll see about that. When can I expect to have additional members of this shift?”
“I can get you some cross-covers from the D-shift pool which subs in through the battalion. If I play my hand right, we should have forty new probies in May.”
“This is September,” Williams reminded Baker.
“I can read a calendar. You gonna back out on your first day?” Noah challenged.
“It’s borderline dangerous when you don’t have full numbers for a shift.”
“You are the eighth member for now. If we have any requests for other transfers, we will make you aware of it. Anything else?” Baker said frostily to his former friend.
“Nothing I can think of. Thank you for your time, sir.” Williams hung up.
Noah slowly counted to ten to refrain from slamming his phone down. The appropriate behavior was to let the superior officer finish the conversation. It would be un-chiefly behavior to swear at his subordinate, even one he’d known almost two decades.
Correction, it was fifteen years. Five years since they had been friends, and four since Williams left Cleveland. They were different people back then. Noah had been a new battalion chief, as Williams had succeeded him as captain of Firehouse 33. They’d thought nothing was going to change.
They were wrong. A year later, Williams had handed in his resignation.
In that one year, Noah had gained a career and lost his marriage and best friend. The loss of Williams hurt more than Kathleen.
It had been worse to watch Williams go down deeper and deeper and refuse all help.
A beer would have been nice right about then. Even better would be to throw Hudgens on top of his desk the next time she made a smart-ass remark and kiss her disobedient mouth.
He stood up and walked around his desk. Those thoughts had to stop. He’d told her the truth in the hallway at the hospital in the most unemotional way possible.
His instincts were correct. Hudgens honed in on his unwilling fascination yet was oblivious to the repercussions down the line. Their situation was a pile of tinder soaked in gasoline begging for ignition.
What he wanted was irrelevant. The only way to deal with the situation was to stomp out every smoldering ember with extreme prejudice.
Noah took out a piece of legal paper from his uniform’s inner pocket, smoothing out the creases.ROBOT.The paper accused him.
If she only knew the truth.
He carefully refolded the paper and placed it back in his uniform. Abby was at his house, and nothing was less sexy than hanging out with his older sister. Besides, he owed her a nice weekend brunch before she flew back to Milwaukee.
Chapter 11
Noah hadn’t realized Abby had big plans for the day. She dragged him through shopping at Legacy Village before using her phone to direct them to an off-the-beaten-path restaurant called The North Star Cafe. Abby had latched onto going there after hearing their ad for Alternate Timeline Pancakes.
Like any good millennial restaurant, it served booze with breakfast, which was served till two p.m. And it was a hilarious smattering of every possible sci-fi franchise imaginable.
The sign at the door read, ‘Welcome Humans, Cylons, Klingons, Scum, and Villainy.’ Putting them in a booth near the bar, the Borg-outfitted host handed them octagon-shaped menus. Noah couldn’t help but grin. This was his kind of place with the geekiness a teen with an overprotective sister would have loved.
“Crap,” Abby muttered. “I can’t get a good signal. I need to send a photo of the new shoes I got Annabelle. I’ll be right back.”
She got up, and Noah ordered coffee for them both, then perused the menu which included items like the notorious Alternate Timeline Pancakes, Ham Solo Sandwich, Shooting Star Mimosa, and Romulan Ale.
He scoped out the dessert section and was excited to see a large sampler option of numerous cakes. Light Speed Cake Tour: Moon Pie, Dark Matter Chocolate, Heaven Sent Chocolate Mousse, Martian Cheesecake, Constellation Cookie Cake, Ferengi Fondue, Jiballian Fudge Cake.
Then he became aware of a group of chatty women talking loudly out of sight two booths away. “I will start screaming if I spend another second with him,” a familiar voice floated over. “Does that make me a horrible officer?”
“It would make you a beauty pageant mom screaming at a judge,” was the answer, also a familiar voice.
“Are most pageant judges bald?” Another woman chuckled. Noah didn’t have any trouble placing that one. The voice was light and airy but generally energetic and happy. That was Erin Hudgens. The next logical conclusion was that her female companions were Luna Rodriguez and Vanessa Knight.
“I feel like I should be standing up for myself or the team. He’s been here for what, less than twenty-four hours, and I already feel like he’s destroying my firehouse,” Rodriguez grumbled.
