“You took too long,” I growl into her neck and then nip her earlobe.
She sighs. “Sorry. I can’t seem to do anything right today.”
The dejected tone in her voice tugs at my very soul. I don’t like that voice coming from my woman.
I pull back and stare down at her, lifting her face by the chin so she has to look up at me. “Why didn’t you call me tonight?”
“I figured you were busy.”
The frown I’m wearing deepens. “Lie to me again and I’ll show you why that’s not a good idea, butterfly.”
Her lips pull into a thin line. “My day sucked and I didn’t want to bring you down.”
“That’s closer to the truth. Tell me what happened.”
“My mother was on my case first thing this morning.” She looks at me and her mouth opens but shuts before whatever she was going to say has a chance to come out. “And then I got to work and it went downhill from there.”
“Work still giving you trouble?”
Shaking her head, she gazes out into the distance. “Have you ever felt like you got something that you didn’t really earn? Like, it should be a celebration that you got this reward or thing you wanted, but then you find out it’s a lie. That you obtained it under false pretenses.” She looks back to me.
The overhead lighting from the station behind us illuminates her face, and I’m able to see the uncertainty in her eyes. It pulls at my chest because I know exactly the feeling she’s describing. It’s like you’re walking around living a lie.
“Is that how you feel at work? You earned that job.”
“But what if I didn’t? What if I’m just a lie?”
“Why the hell would you even think that?”
“Because I was told. Zeke—”
“The asshole?” I grunt, angrily. She’s mentioned his name once or twice before, and I could tell from those few times that he was the one giving her a hard time.
She gives me a small smile. “Yeah, him. He told me the reason I was hired was basically because I’m black and Danny thought he needed some diversity in the office.”
“That doesn’t even make sense. You have a degree—”
“Yeah, but no experience. I worked as an elementary school teacher for seven years. Not in the field of my degree.”
“So what?”
She looks at me in confusion. “What do you mean so what?”
“I mean exactly that. What if you were just hired because of your race … which is a load of bullshit, by the way. But let’s say that’s the case. Big fucking deal.”
“Itisa big deal.”
“Not if you don’t make it one. You have the job now. Look at me,” I say, turning her head to face me again. “You know why I’m standing here right now, at this station house as a member of Rescue Four?”
“Because you’re a firefighter. You earned your way through the academy.”
“Right, but I wasn’t assigned at this station until recently. And that was only because a former squad member was injured. So severely he lost his career. There was an opening and I finally got the transfer I’d been aiming for over a year.”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing. Corey got injured and it fucking sucks for him. And as a result, I got the position I’ve wanted for a long time. Do you think that makes me any less capable of doing my job? You think the guy I pulled out of a fire earlier today gives a shit how I got this job? He cares that he’s still alive because I was there. Plain and simple. He’s not looking up my record and asking how many years of experience I do or don’t have. None of that shit matters when you’re in the middle of a fire.”
“But I don’t save lives for a living. In my job, people care about my experience—”
