“That’s not an answer.”
“My mom worked a lot after Dad died. I learned.”
Her expression softens. “You were twelve.”
“Someone had to feed us.”
She’s quiet, and I realize I’ve said too much. Shown too much.
But she doesn’t pity me. She just says, “Thank you. For this. For everything today.”
I nod and back toward the door.
“Patton?”
I turn.
“We make a good team after all.”
“I suppose we do.”
Lifting her chin and smiling, she adds, “Working with you isn’t so bad. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.”
And the strange thing is, I am too.
Later that night,I stride through the big bay in the station when Austin slides into step next to me.
“So, about that bet,” he says casually.
“What bet?”
His grin is pure trouble. “The guys think you can’t get through Fireman’s Ball planning without arguing with Winnie. I said you could. Loser takes all the holiday shifts.”
My competitive nature flares. Today proved that she and I could be in the same room without fighting like cats and dogs, but they don’t know that. “I never lose.”
“That’s the spirit.” Austin claps my shoulder, counting on me to cover the holidays.
Tone dry, I add, “Especially to geniuses like you.”
“We shall see.” He walks off whistling, and I’m left standing there, realizing what I’ve agreed to.
Don’t argue with Winnie. Work together. Be civil. Maybe even friendly.
I never lose.
Except that’s not true, is it? I lost my dad. Lost Captain Kendrick. Lost the part of myself who used to be called Maverick when I woke up one day after a firestorm, when we lost one of our men. I should’ve done something different. Should have been able to save him.
But I won’t lose to Winnie in our undeclared war of egos, especially if I don’t let myself like her more than I should.
Spending time with her, seeing her charming vendors, solving problems, and eating my food is the real danger and should come with a fire hazard label.
13
WINNIE
I stare suspiciouslyat the coffee cup on my desk like it might be a trap. Poisoned? Evidence that someone was in here, attempting to steal Parks & Rec secrets? Not that we have any.
It’s regular drip coffee with a splash of milk. My normal order. The cup appeared on my desk this morning while I jousted with the copying machine.
