This is visceral. This iswant. This is craving.
This is… Ames.
Oh, fuck.
“Robbie? Helloooo?”
A hand waves in front of my face, and I realize I’ve been standing there like a six-foot-seven lump, staring at my best friend. My whole body jumps.
I spin around to see Greene trying to get my attention. I narrow my eyes.
I was already annoyed at Greene for his mistake last night—one that could’ve had serious consequences for the rest of the crew. Now, he’s grinning at me like we’re best pals, not like a penitent probie who’s up for a disciplinary review. His cocky attitude does nothing to help his case.
Neither does the fact that he just interrupted me drooling over Ames, but that’s irrelevant.
“Greene,” I snap. “You that eager to get your review underway, probie?”
To his credit, Greene seems to realize right away that he’s played this wrong. “Uh. Yes, Chief Wojcik. Sorry, Chief Wojcik.”
“Uh-huh. My office, now.”
I leave the locker room without checking to see whether Ames saw me. I really hope he didn’t catch me watching him, or he might think…
Fuck, I don’t know what he’d think. I don’t know whatIthink.
“You know why you’re here,” I say, once Greene and I are in my office. I gesture him to the chair in front of my desk even before I take my own.
“Yeah,” he admits. “But like I tried to tell you last night, I was being proactive, putting the fire out as quickly as possible?—”
“And as I toldyoulast night, speed’s not the onlyconsideration and sure as hell not the most important one.”
I was serious when I told Dr. Colburn I don’t find it difficult to make decisions at work. I’m responsible for my crew—all of them, including Greene—and I will not compromise when it comes to their safety.
If Greene was expecting to have this review with joking, friendly Robbie, he miscalculated.
“You were given a direct order from Metier. Your job was to watch the fire and make sure it was contained. Yes?”
Greene swallows. “Yes, but?—”
“You learned in your training that using a chemical extinguisher on a creosote fire can make itlooklike the fire’s been contained… only to make it flare hotter. True?”
Greene’s cheeks are red, and I can tell by the way his mouth pinches sullenly that he forgot this. “Yes, sir.”
“And you’re aware that discharging that extinguisher could have sent burning ash into the structure or onto the roof, where Chambers and Donaher were.”
He nods, eyes on the floor.
“You’re benched for thirty days. That’s standard?—”
Greene’s eyes flash to my face. “No, wait, please! I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I should’ve waited. I… I signed up because I wanted to save people, you know? And I forgot my training. But keeping me out for thirty days isn’t gonna help when I needmoretraining, not less.”
I fold my arms across my chest and stare at him impassively for a long moment. The man has potential. He’s strong and energetic and gets along great with the crew. And the fact that he apologized means he’s able to recognize when he fucked up.
“Sorry wouldn’t fix it if the house had gone up in flames or if you or someone else had gotten hurt,” I remind him quietly. “This job’s not always about speed and power, Greene. It’s not about flashy saves. It’s about being the kind of guy other people can count on.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I’ll do better from now on?—”
“Yeah, you will.” I blow out a breath. “For the next thirty days, you’re being paired with a senior member of the crew on every single shift. Either Hugh, James, Axford, or myself.”
