“She must like you more than the others because her speech to Conley was longer and involved several more ‘fuck you and die bastard’ comments.” Carl came closer and regarded his lieutenant hesitantly before steeling himself. “You won’t do anything to her, will you?”
“Like what?”
“Punish her.” Carl must have felt very strongly about this because it took balls to suggest his officer might slink to retaliation.
“If by ‘punish,’ you mean assign her to Ladder and Engine, and not spend the entire shift cooped up with me in Medic, then yes, her punishment is more work. What’s it to you?”
Carl, who was at least a hand taller than Mateo, stretched out his arms. “When I was in the academy, one of my instructors told me I’d best be careful about getting left behind in a fire. My team might not see me because Black skin blends in with the smoke.”
Mateo nodded. “I had an ass for physical training who made me take an English and a citizenship test, even though I was born in Cleveland.”
“Exactly,” Carl said. He indicated the crew quarters on the second floor. “I don’t like this. They should have left her paired with the other girl at 13.”
“But she’s not at 13 anymore. She’s here now, so we have to deal. You’re that worried?”
“Not about everyone, but a few of the guys… I worry they have less than charitable thoughts.” He looked down at his lieutenant. “My question, is what kind of man are you?”
Stiffening, Mateo gave his best glare to make sure Carl understood him. “I’ll do my duty to every member of my crew—male or female, Black, White, Latino, or whatever. But I’m not a nursery school teacher, and I’m not the thought police.”
Carl appeared to accept the statement that Mateo would do his best to be fair but wouldn’t fight McClunis’s battles for her. “I guess it’ll do.”
“She know you’re keeping tabs on her?”
“Probably. I can’t beat obvious about it or she’d give me a talking to as good as she gave you. Thank you for being honest with me.”
“If you can’t trust me, then I’m a piss-poor officer.” Time to move to safer ground. “Though I admit. I did lie to save my male pride. Isadora and I broke up.”
“You broke up with hot cop! Why?” They both relaxed since Carl was the resident successfully married guy while the rest of the shift had about twelve divorces in ten guys, which included Mateo, who’d never been married.
“I didn’t break up with her. She dumped me. A lot of things were said, but definitely mentioning my opinion on the attractiveness of our newest lady firefighter did not work out well.” He took a cigarette out of his pocket and started smoking, right over the newly cleaned floor.
“So, of course, you ask McClunis out next. Went ahead and got it out in the open.” Carl shook his head at the sheer idiocy.
“Funny thing is, I’m not even sure I really like McClunis in that way. Still, part of me wanted to see what the fuss was about,” Mateo admitted.
“Doesn’t seem like you or any of the guys are going to find out.”
“It does suck. Not Leslie, but me and Isadora. We were good together. Not like I’ve done monogamy much, but it could have been really good.”
Every second McClunis moved further into his rearview mirror, he regretted more and more how he’d torpedoed him and Isadora. The effort of picking up random women was becoming a burden on its own.
Isadora had been simple and natural and great in every way.
Yep, excellent decision to burn it down.
“Lieutenant, as the only married person you seem to know, and the father of two, may I make a suggestion. Assuming you want her back.”
“What do I need to do to get her back? Rent a mariachi band to follow her around? Get a banner on a plane to fly overhead? Huge romantic gesture?” Mateo gestured with the lit cigarette.
Carl rolled his eyes. “For the love of God, just ask her to take you back. Flowers, a teddy bear, and an apology go a long way. I’d know.”
True, a married guy would know better how to make up than a confirmed bachelor like Mateo. “But what if you aren’t sorry? We had some shit that needed to be said, and I’m not sorry we got it out.”
“This is why everyone else is divorced. If you can’t say you are sorry, at least humble yourself. Admit your faults.”
“That works?”
“Oh, it does.” Carl cracked a smile. “And trust me, makeup sex amazing.”
