Tony had found it difficult to admit to his coworkers the horrible news about what was happening to Brady’s Tavern. They’d given him a task: convince the bar’s new owner to reopen Brady’s just as it was. And though he knew he had nothing to do with Julie’s decision to turn Brady’s into a tea-room, he still felt as if he’d let down his comrades.
Mission failed.
Not only that, but beautiful Julie Polk had said no when he’d asked her out. Oh, she was interested. She’d acted a little fluttery when he’d told her she was pretty, and he’d felt some definite vibes flash through the air between them. But she’d been prickly, too. Her mind was so filled with plans for her tearoom that romance was way down on her priority list.
He knew darn well he shouldn’t be thinking about romance either. He was still smarting from Daralee’s sudden rejection. He’d thought their relationship was going somewhere. They’d been so crazy about each other. Now he knew he’d been nothing but a boy toy to her, someone to irk her exhusband. When that hadn’t worked, he’d become history.
But just looking at Julie sent his hormones into a frenzy. Could he help it if he liked having a girlfriend? Still, the next time he fell head over heels for someone, he wanted the same feelings in return. He didn’t want to be a low priority or an afterthought.
“Earth to Tony,” Priscilla said impatiently. “Did you hear me?”
Sooner or later everyone would find out about Julie’s plans. He might as well break the news. “I heard you. It’s just too horrible what she’s doing to Brady’s.”
Priscilla gasped. “Is she tearing down the building? Granted, it needs work, but isn’t it a historical landmark or something?”
“She’s doing worse than that. It’s sacrilege.”
Now he had Ethan’s and Otis’s attention, too. And Jim Peterson’s. “Would you just tell us instead of being a drama queen?” said Peterson, pedaling at a leisurely pace on the stationary bike.
“She’s turning Brady’s into a tearoom.”
Otis dropped his barbell with a clang. Ethan’s jaw sagged.
Priscilla, however, didn’t appear horrified. “A tearoom. Right here in our neighborhood.”
Ethan groaned. “Only you, Priscilla, would find this news welcome.”
“I would miss Brady’s, but a tearoom could be good. I could do lunch there.”
Otis threw his sweaty towel at her. “And where exactly are us men supposed to hang out?”
Priscilla turned off the treadmill and slowed to a stop. “At least maybe we could get some healthy food there. A salad or…” Loud groans cut her off. She shrugged. “I can’t help you if you won’t help yourselves.”
“Pris, maybe you should talk to her,” Tony said. “Woman to woman. Tell her how important Brady’s is to this neighborhood. It’s important for us and the cops to have a neutral place to meet and talk things over.”
Pris gave Tony an appraising look. “If you can’t convince her, I don’t have a chance. Is she married?”
“I don’t think so.” He hadn’t seen a ring, anyway.
“You’re just gonna have to try harder,” Ethan said.
“Seduce her,” Otis added. “Once she’s sleeping with you, she’ll have to listen to you. Chicks are like that.”
Priscilla threw the sweaty towel back at Otis. “Typical male logic. Men think with their gonads. Women think with their brains.”
“Just give it the old college try,” Ethan said. “Get to know her, let her get to know you and then convince her to reopen Brady’s. We’re sick of seeing you mope about Daralee. About time you found a new girlfriend.”
Tony couldn’t deny he wanted to give Julie another try—smart move or not. Since meeting her a few minutes earlier, he’d had a hard time remembering exactly why he’d thought he was in love with Daralee. But cold-blooded seduction wasn’t his game. He liked women. He didn’t like the idea of using them, even for a good cause. And then there was his own much-stomped-on heart to think of.
“I’d love to have a new girlfriend,” Tony said more candidly than he’d meant to. He focused on Ethan. “I want what you and Kat have. But I’m not sure Julie’s the one to provide it. She’s a tough cookie.”
Ethan shook his head as he wiped down the weight bench he’d been using. “If you go in with that attitude, expecting to strike out…”
“Look,” said Otis, “here’s what you do. You harden your heart. Every time you look at Julie, you think Daralee. You remember how bad she treated you. You remind yourself that women are evil incarnate.”
“Hey,” Priscilla objected.
“Present company excluded,” Otis said quickly. He’d been one of the ones to object the loudest when the fire station got invaded by a woman, but he and Priscilla had formed an unlikely friendship, surprising everyone. “If you feel yourself softening even a little bit toward this Julie person, you come talk to me and I’ll set you straight.”
Tony supposed Otis would be the one to do that. He had three ex-wives. “If you’re such an expert, why don’t you seduce her?”
“Me?” He gave a loud, hearty laugh and patted his gut. “That girl isn’t looking for a fat, old black man. She’s looking for a young stud like you. Besides, my Ruby would kill me if I went near that sweet young thing.”
The P.A. system crackled to life. “Dinner is now being served in the kitchen,” Lt. Murph McCrae’s gruff voice announced. “Come get it now or go hungry.”
The firefighters didn’t have to be asked twice. They tromped down the stairs in a hungry stampede. But before they could sit down, the alarm sounded. And before they’d even climbed into their turnout gear, a second alarm went out.
“Sounds big,” Tony said, pushing thoughts of Julie out of his mind for the moment. Another dose of adrenaline surged through his body. He was on the ladder truck today with Ethan, the captain and Jim Peterson. He hadn’t been to many big fires, and just the thought of descending on a big conflagration got him as excited as a young kid at an amusement park.
This one was big, too. It was at a run-down auto-body shop, which meant gasoline, oil—potential explosions.
“IC to Ladder 59,” came the incident commander’s voice over the radio. “Need y’all on the B side of the building on ventilation. Start getting those walls down, if you can.”
Captain Campeon, on the ladder truck, abruptly ordered a change of direction, and the truck turned down a side street, raced through an alley and parked in a vacant lot just behind the burning building. Tony chugged the remainder of a bottle of water. On a hot day like today, it paid to stay hydrated.
“Grab your tools, rookies,” Campeon ordered. Tony did as he was told, collecting an ax and a pike pole. Then he took up a position at veteran Jim Peterson’s elbow. That was his only assignment—stick to Peterson like bubblegum. The hot August sun would roast him alive inside his turnout gear if he stood out in it for long.
“Basque,” Campeon barked, “get a ladder up to that roof. Peterson, Veracruz, get the window.”
The window was barred, but it was easy enough to break the glass using their pikes. As soon as they did, smoke poured out and that was when they heard a dog howling inside.
Tony hated the thought of a helpless animal dying in a fire. Normally, firefighters would rescue pets if it was possible to do so without dramatically endangering themselves.
“Hell, let’s see if we can get to him,” Peterson said. The back door was solid-core steel, but the walls were thin corrugated tin. Tony whacked