I keep smiling at her, hoping that a particular twinkle in my eye might break through her hard shell.
She lets out a long sigh. Beside her, inexplicably, Hale tenses.
“I’ll make this perfectly clear, Ms. Hart—”
“Oh, please call me Lila.”
Her eyes remain icy, as if she’s choosing not to register my words. “The Save A Hero campaign is well intended, and I appreciate the ideas you’ve shared with me, but it is already skirting the boundaries of acceptable conduct.”
At this, she eyes Noah sharply. No doubt because she thought his little demonstration down in the gym counted as that forbidden fraternization.
And sure, I got areallynice view of his ass while I was up there.
Also, maybe I did allow myself a few seconds of imagining what it might be like to have Noah toss me around a little bit. On a bed. With less clothing.
I clear my throat lightly. “I can assure you the only content that has made it to the internet is perfectly acceptable. Even the dance I shared with Captain Hargrove at the gala adheres to middle school rules.”
The Hawk tilts her head, making her look uncannily birdlike. “Pardon?”
“As in, when you danced with boys at middle school formals, you had to keep at least six inches between you?”
“Hm. I attended an all-girls Catholic school.”
“Wow, that’s fascinating. Did you enjoy it?”
She stares at me for a long moment. On my left, Evan shifts awkwardly in his seat.
I bat my eyes innocently.
The Hawk turns to Hale. “If I get even a whiff of impropriety, I will shut this down, Captain. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And this Family Safety Fair happening tomorrow,” she adds, scanning her gaze across all of us, “it’s a public event. Anyone is welcome to attend. Many eyes will be on you, and not all of them have our best interests at heart.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “I’ve got this under control.”
She gives me another long look. Part of me wonders if she can read my mind.
“I certainly hope so, Ms. Hart.”
***
When I step outside to meet the camera crew on Saturday afternoon, the scent of popcorn hits me first. Which is impressive, really, when you consider that Station 47’s annual Family Safety Fair is a block party in Midtown, where the aroma of car exhaust, grimy pavement, and vape smoke is usually the main thing to assault your senses.
The station has done an impressive job of stepping up their game, though. Sure, most of it is thanks to the fact that I took their annual event and turned it into something ten times larger, but they’re all very good at following instructions.
The block that Station 47 calls home has been cordoned off and packed with people. Everywhere I look there are strollers navigating past loitering groups, dogs tugging on leashes, kidssquealing over balloon animals, and dozens of FDNY staff entertaining the masses.
I grin up at the massiveSAVE A HEROsign that hangs on the exterior of the station, bright red and glittering gold. I managed to slide the expense right underneath Hale’sandthe Hawk’s noses, and I know it was the right call.
There’s nothing more important than branding.
“Lila!”
Evan is waving at me from down the street a little ways, Leo clinging onto him piggyback style.
I glance over at my filming crew, grateful that I don’t have to worry about capturing everything on my phone today. Also, thankfully, Jake’s assistant Sam is no longer sick, so Lou didn’t have to come help. Instead, she can hang back at our office and monitor our social media engagement.
