“Morning, Chief,” Hollywood calls out, placing a coffee in my hand.
“Morning,” I mutter, flipping through the maintenance clipboard.
The crew’s in full swing. Phoenix’s arguing with Bear about burnt toast. Drake’s got the radio blasting Christmas songs even though it’s not December yet.
My phone buzzes on the table.
Seraphina: Thanks for the pie, Chiefy.
I stare at the message a second too long. My chest tightens with half pride and half panic. I shouldn’t like the nickname as much as I do.
Hollywood leans over my shoulder. “Oooh, what’s that, Chiefy?”
I freeze.
The bastard reads it out loud before I can stop him. “‘Thanks for the pie, Chiefy.’”
Laughter explodes around the room.
Bear nearly spits his coffee. “Chiefy? That’s new. You got yourself a secret admirer?”
“It’s his new pet name.” Drake smirks over the rim of his mug.
“Knock it off,” I growl, pocketing the phone. “She’s just a friend.”
Hollywood grins. “Oh yeah? Someone you bake pies for?”
“I didn’t bake it.”
“Delivered it though.” Drake folds his arms, eyes glinting. “That’s practically a date, Chiefy.”
More laughter. Even I can’t help the twitch of a smile. “You girls done?”
Bear slaps my shoulder as he passes. “That kind of thing spreads like wildfire. Next thing you know, dispatch’ll be calling you Chiefy over the radio.”
“Don’t you dare,” I warn, pointing at him.
Bear raises his hands in mock surrender. “What? It’s cute. Has a ring to it.”
“Yeah,” Phoenix chimes in. “Real romantic. Chiefy Sparks. Has Hallmark movie written all over it.”
They don’t know the half of it. More like a disaster movie. “Carry on and I’ll have you all doing overtime washing vehicles,” I bark, but they’re all still grinning.
I shake my head, snatch the morning paper from the side and enter my office, needing the breathing space. I toss my phone onto the desk and drop into the swivel chair, but my focus is shot. One word is at the forefront of my mind.
Chiefy.
Coming from anyone else, it’d be a joke.
From her, it sounds like trouble.
I sip the coffee, the bitterness grounding me. There’s no way we would work. She dated my son, for fuck’s sake.
An hour later, the guys’banter filters through to the office.
Wondering what all the commotion is, I open the office door to find Drake hanging a tinsel garland around the shelving unit.
Bear’s wearing a Santa hat with a fluffy white beard, which actually suits him, and Hollywood’s waving a sprig of mistletoe in the air.
