“There’s always that bachelor auction tonight to benefit Roxy’s animal rescue,” Gran calls up to me. “And that handsome Hollywood man will be there …”
“For now, Gran, please just call.”
Chapter
Two
AMBROSE
My pager chirps. Dispatch calling in.
“Rough & Ready Firefighters, a reported emergency at thirteen twenty-three Cassidy Lane. Cat stuck in tree in need of diabetic medication.”
The station echoes with the snickers of my three comrades, Donovan, Waldon, and Aiden.
“Felines? Seriously?” I snap, glaring at the guys. “How are we supposed to respond to human emergencies when we’re tied up with this?”
“Sounds like a call for you, Hollywood,” Waldon says, gum snapping, smug as ever.
Donovan joins in. “Didn’t playing a firefighter on TV prepare you for this exact scenario?”
Yeah. Six damn seasons onSoCal Hotshots. Enough to pay my way through UCLA fire management, not enough to ever live it down.
Maxwell, our shift officer, pops his head in. “What are you waiting for, Ross?”
I grit my teeth. “It’s Dutch. And do I seriously have to go?”
“Yes.” His grin sharpens. “You’re the most experienced with kitty rescues. Wasn’t that a season four plotline?”
The guys howl.
“Besides, if you don’t hurry, you might miss the bachelor auction tonight, and we can’t have that,” Maxwell adds with a chuckle.
He and the chief have been hinting at this charity event all week. Last thing I need are more women hungrily eyeing me like a charcuterie board.
I bite back what I want to say. That one of these days I’ll prove I deserve this job, not as a punchline but as a firefighter. Instead, I grab my gear and head out.
Dad’s words echo in my head.You can’t control what life hands you. Only how you respond to it.
“Cat rescue, here I come,” I mutter, sliding into a red pickup. Dispatch sends the address to the console.
Despite my best efforts at staying professional, though, the situation gnaws at me.
Calls like this are supposed to be hazing. Hollywood stuck cleaning up messes while the real firefighters wait for something worthy.
But I didn’t leave Los Angeles and bust my ass through school and training to be a running joke. Nevertheless, I remind myself:Every call matters … even if it’s for one stubborn cat.
Ten minutes later, I pull up to Cassidy Lane. Ponderosa Pines line the street, their tops swaying in the August heat. Nothing like chasing a cat up a hundred-foot tree. I should’ve brought the ladder engine. But that would’ve meant the whole crew tagging along to witness my ignominy.No, thank you.
But first, the front door. I knock twice.
It opens to a tiny woman with white hair and sharp brown eyes. She wears pastels, her delicate face striking and animated.
“Ambrose Dutch from Rough & Ready Fire Department.” I hold out my hand. She takes it like she’s holding court, not shaking.
Suddenly, her eyes light. “Mon Dieu! You’re Avery Ross.”
I suppress a groan. “No, ma’am. I played him on TV, but I’m not him.”
