“Mr. Trent, what exactly is going on here?”
The Hawk is standing at the entrance of the gym, hands planted firmly on her hips, that deadly gaze aimed directly at me.
Lila, who has her face buried in my lower back and therefore can’t see who has arrived on the scene, lets out a confused noise that is, despite the instant tension in the air, incredibly cute.
With a muttered curse, I carefully set her back down on the ground and make sure her legs are steady before putting an appropriate amount of distance between us.
The Hawk looks like she wants to fireman carrymenext. Directly to the fiery gates of Hell.
Lila, however, simply smooths down the front of her skirt and beams at the human embodiment of a cracking whip. The others practically gape at her and she bounds across the space to greet her the way you might rush toward an old friend.
“You must be Mrs. Branson!” she chirps. “I’m so glad to finally meet you in person!”
The Hawk fixes her ruthless gaze upon Lila, coldly accepting her handshake with a firm jerk of her arm.
Trying not to gulp too loudly, I make my way over.
“Hello, ma’am.” I give her a smile that goes unanswered.
“We need to talk,” is all she says before turning on her heel and striding out the door.
“Uh-oh,” mutters one of the guys.
Uh-oh, indeed.
Chapter ten
Chapter Ten: Lila
If the Hawk had real talons, I’m pretty sure she’d be digging them into my throat right now.
Which is crazy, because I’m totally on her side. We’re literally playing for the same team. As their union representative, she wants the station to succeed and flourish. And as their hired public relations specialist, I also want that same thing.
Not even for wholly selfish reasons, either. Because, after only one week with the people of Station 47, I genuinely cannot fathom the depth of the loss that defunding this station will result in for Manhattan. They’re hardworking and diligent, strong and focused.
They’re also funny and sweet, and always willing to chat with me. Even the people I’ve spoken to who aren’t directly involved in Save A Hero have been great.
The Hawk is also great, even though everyone seems to be afraid of her.
I mean, how can I not absolutely adore a woman who manages to get an entire station of burly dudes and tough-as-hell women to snap to attention? She cares about her career just as much as I care about mine, and just because she’s a little stern-faced and not the most stylish person ever, I’m supposed to see her as my enemy?
No way.
“I’msothrilled to hear that you enjoyed the first official episode of Save A Hero,” I say to her, grinning from the other side of the conference table. “The reception has been great so far, and I really think we’re on the right track.”
“Hmm,” is all she offers in response.
Evan and Noah are sitting rigid in their chairs beside me. Even Hale, seated next to the Hawk, looks a little nervous in her presence. Then again, he’s always pretty stoic. You’d think he’d at least try to toss a halfway smile my way after the moment we shared after the gala.
Like, his tongue was literally in my mouth, and he can’t even throw a wink in my direction when we pass each other in the station?
Whatever.
I’m better off following his lead.
Because, as the Hawk is about to remind me for the umpteenth time, there is absolutely no fraternizing allowed at Station 47. Or any other fire station in the entire tristate area.
In fact, I have a feeling that if this girlboss had her way, she’d reinstitute the six-feet rule from the pandemic and keep us far apart at all times no matter where we are. She seems to harbor a lot of disgust for the concept of fraternization in general.
