“Damn straight it won’t.” Evans raised an eyebrow at her and grinned.
Alvarez started drumming out a beat on the side of the engine, as he was known to do, and picked up the Billy Joel song again. The lyrics spoke of fires that burned before any of them were even born, and continued to burn even as they fought.
Each of the guys took a line, then motioned for Riya to take the next line. She shook her head, a smile popping onto her face.
Riya caved and sang her line, laughing.
The three men, her friends, her company, broke out into wide grins as they continued to sing about fires they hadn’t started but fought anyway. Singing made the work go faster, and before she knew it, the rig was clean.
“Gotta tell you, Desai. You have great potential as a firefighter, and you’re an amazing cook, but you can’t sing worth shit,” Alvarez said, laughing.
She shrugged. “Sad for you, because that has never stopped me. You can ask—” she was about to sayDhillon“—anyone who knows me.”
They had made their way to the kitchen. “We haven’t had breakfast yet, and it’s your turn, Desai.” Evans shrugged at her.
Lieutenant Ambrose was seated at their large dining table, reading the paper, a cup of coffee in his hands.
“We’ll start the prep for your amazing omelets,” Schultz said as the three of them made for the refrigerator.
She went and stood in front of Ambrose. “Lieutenant.”
“Desai.”
She waited for him to speak.
“Everyone has a moment when they freeze. And after what you’ve been through... In any case, Captain expects you to report to Psych, and so do I.” He fixed her in his gaze and narrowed his eyes. “We’re a small department here. We need all our firefighters ready to move. Am I clear?”
“Crystal, sir.”
“All right, then.” He stood and folded his paper. “Carry on.” He walked away and left her standing there.
twenty-seven
RIYA
Ambrose was in a pissy mood, so they all had to do drills at the hottest part of the day in the middle of July in Maryland. In full turnout gear. They carried the hose, they carried tires, and lastly, they carried each other. Sweat had dripped and pooled into every crevice all over her body, and her muscles were screaming for nutrition.
She needed to get cleaned up. She had four female candidates for the academy coming by today, interested in her mentorship program. She and Katie from Engine 23 in Baltimore had a list of all the female firefighters in the area who were interested in being mentors. Every single woman they reached out to had said yes. Riya had the potential mentees fill out paperwork, and now she was going to match them to these experienced women. The visit today was so that Riya could meet them in person and give them their assignments. She was giddy with excitement. Even Ambrose’s crappy mood couldn’t deter her happiness.
“Hey! You look gross.” Hetal was early. Naturally, she was one of the young women in the program.
“Yeah, well. Your boyfriend decided to kill us today by making us carry everything in the house,” Riya grumbled. “Including each other.” Who knew Alvarez was close to two hundred pounds of solid muscle?
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Hetal said.
“Well, why the hell not?”
Hetal pursed her lips and rocked her head back and forth. “I may have embellished my age, and he found out.”
Riya widened her eyes. “Hetal! How old did he think you were?”
She shrugged. “Twenty-five.”
Riya tried to hide her grin. “So now he knows that you’realmosttwenty-one.”
“And he’s twenty-seven. Which I don’t think matters. I’m very mature for my age.” Hetal glanced over to where Ambrose stood with Evans, the sad look on her face betraying her sassy tone.
“Maybe, but nowwesuffer. Thanks.” Riya grimaced at her. “Let me go and grab the shower before the guys can move, so I’m ready when the other girls get here.”
