Page 61 of When the Smoke Clears

I release her, trying to control myself.

Me!

She’s telling me before Maren or Will. I think I’ve arrived.

“We should celebrate. Can I take you to dinner?”

“Oh, no,” Jamie stumbles over her words. “That’s unnecessary.” She bats a hand at me and then straightens her cream, puffy-sleeved blouse.

I lace my fingers behind my back. “Fitz probably wants to see you.”

“He’s in Idaho.”

“Then I’m taking you to dinner. That’s what friends do. Right?”

She eyes me before offering a slow nod. “I suppose.”

I slide my laptop into my tote and then loop my arm around hers to head to dinner.

We decide to meet at a farm-to-table eatery in a nineteenth-century building on West Main Street. The server fills our water glasses and gives us a few minutes to look over the menu.

“Why did Will stop by to see you today?” Jamie asks as we study the menus.

“Are you asking me as Will’s friend or mine?” I peek over my menu, and Jamie does the same.

“Does it matter?”

I slowly nod.

She closes her menu and sets it on the table. “If I ask him, what will he tell me?”

“Will’s unpredictable, which is unfortunate.” I refocus on the menu. “But I imagine he’d tell you I hired someone to clean his house, and that particular someone woke him up. So, instead of calling or texting, he made a trip to visit me in person.”

Jamie hums before nodding. “I see. So he was mad?”

“At first.”

“How did you calm him down?”

“I’m a psychiatrist. How do you think I calmed him down?” I narrow my eyes because I’m an exceptional doctor with a slightly inflated ego. But, like all doctors, I’m a terrible patient who deflects and often relies on passive-aggressive behavior. The psychiatrist in me would say it’s my age, the part of emotional intelligence that can’t be rushed like one’s general cognitive ability.

“You drugged him?”

I snort. “If only he were that compliant.”

Jamie giggles. “So what did you do?”

“He would tell you I dismissed his concerns when I offered a better solution.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.” I smirk.

“I think Maren is intimidated by you,” Jamie says. “I used to be too. I mean, you’re an actual genius, not like Fitz giving me orgasms by looking at me the right way.”

“Did you get pregnant from a glance across a crowded room?” It’s a giddy feeling to talk with someone close to my age about boys. I missed this part of growing up.

“It was a photo that another smoke jumper took of him carrying his gear to the pickup spot after containing a fire. Rugged and dirty.” She winks before sipping her water.