Patton glances at it. “Isn’t that thing supposed to be fierce? It looks deranged.”
“Gus iscuteand he’s ourtown mascot, so no, not fierce, but adorably welcoming.”
“He looks like he’s plotting something.”
“Don’t insult him.”
“I’m not insulting—” He stops, rubbing his temples as ifunsure how we got so far off track. “Can we just focus on the permits?”
“You were the one who made the squirrel comment. But happily. Fill out the environmental assessment, get it notarized, and resubmit. I’ll have it approved within two business days.”
“Two days?”
“That’s fast-tracked.”
“It’s a nightmare.”
I casually lift my shoulder. “It’s bureaucracy.”
He leans back in the chair, and I notice his knuckles. They’re scraped and bruised, probably from construction work at the old firehouse. He’s doing everything himself instead of asking for help. Stubborn man.
Softening my voice, I say, “I’m not trying to make this difficult. I want to help.”
“Right.” His tone is pure disbelief. “Like you had the internet ‘help’ at trivia night?”
My hand flies to my hip. “Excuse me? You literally had your crew texting you answers!”
Our verbal table tennis game continues and I vow to last until the death!
Gaze unflinching, he says, “Scotty wins at Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune, and that show with the lifeline. He was just … sharing knowledge.”
“And I was just … looking things up!” I counter.
“On your phone. During a trivia competition.”
“You were gettingtexts.”
“It’s not the same.”
We’re both standing now, leaning over my desk like we’re about to arm wrestle. Gus the squirrel sits between us, still looking vaguely homicidal. Or is that us? If this keeps up, one of us is going to need a lifeline before long.
Patton takes a breath. “Fine. I’ll get the assessment done.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’m not happy about it.”
“Noted.”
He grabs the folder and heads for the door, then pauses. “Did you get the email from Mayor Barbie?”
My stomach knots because I foresee more of these standoffs happening … starting tomorrow. “About the special awards ceremony for the Fireman’s Ball?”
“Yep.”
I nod.
“Good.” His tone suggests it’s the opposite of good.
