Chasing Fire

understand, right now, I can be mean, and that both my marriage and my divorce taught me to understand myself, virtue and flaw, and to not waste time in going after what I want.”
    “Time’s always wasted if you’re not aiming for what you want.”
    “An excellent point. Which brings me to the second thing. I lied to you earlier today when I said I wasn’t hitting on you. I was. I am.”
    It wasn’t just that his mind went blank, but that his whole system hit overload and snapped to an abrupt halt. He couldn’t quite manage the simple act of swallowing as he stared into her sparkling eyes.
    “I don’t believe in absolute honesty in all things,” she continued, “because I think a little shading now and then not only softens the edges, but makes things more interesting. But in this case, I decided on the bald truth. If it scares you off, it’s better to know at this point, where there really isn’t anything on the line for either of us.”
    She took a small sip from her glass. “So . . . Have I scared you off?”
    “I . . . I’m not very good at this.”
    “I should have put in there that whether you’re interested or not, I’m very sincere and serious about the project, and about learning how to skydive. Both of those things might be connected to me being attracted to you, but they’re not contingent on it. Or you reciprocating.”
    She sighed. “And that sounded like a high-school principal when I’d hoped not to. I’m a little nervous.”
    The idea of that stopped the degeneration of his brain cells. “You are?”
    “I like you, and I’m hoping you’re interested enough to want to spend time with me, on a personal level. So, yes, I’m a little nervous that pushing that forward so soon might put you off. But it’s part of my don’t-waste-time policy, so . . . If you’re interested, or inclined to consider being interested, I’d like to take you to dinner. There’s a nice restaurant a couple blocks away. It’s an easy walk—and I made a reservation, just in case.”
    He considered, shook his head. “No.”
    “Well. Then we’ll just—”
    “I’d like to take you to dinner.” He could hardly believe the words came out of his mouth, and didn’t cause a single hitch. “I heard there’s a nice restaurant a couple blocks away, if you’d like to take a walk.”
    He loved watching the way the smile bloomed on her face. “That sounds great. I’m just going to go freshen up first.”
    She got up from the table, moved toward the restroom.
    The minute the door closed behind her, she did a high-stepping dance in the bold purple peek-toe pumps she’d bought that afternoon.
    On a foolish giggle, she walked to the sink, studied her giddy face in the mirror. “Let the adventure begin,” she said, then took out her lipstick.
    A few years before, she’d wondered, worried, all but assumed her life was essentially over. In a way, it had been, had needed to be to push her to start again.
    So far, the new life of Ella Frazier brimmed with interesting possibilities.
    And one of them was about to take her to dinner.
    She nodded to her reflection, dropped the lipstick back in her purse. “Thanks, Darrin,” she declared to her ex-husband. “It took that kick in the teeth to wake me up.” She tossed her hair, did a stylish half turn. “And just look at me now. I am wide awake.”
     
     
    ROWAN RESISTED calling or texting her father’s cell. It struck her as a little too obviously checking up on him. Instead, she opted for his landline at home.
    She fully expected him to answer. She’d waited until nine thirty, after all, busying herself with her paperwork. Or trying to. When his machine picked up, she was momentarily at a loss. She had to grope for the excuse it had taken her nearly a half hour to come up with.
    “Oh, hey. I’m just taking a quick break from writing up my reports and realized I didn’t get the chance to tell you of my brilliance as fire boss. If I can’t brag to you, who can I brag to? I’ll be at this for another hour or so, then I’ll probably take a walk to clear the administrative BS out of my head. So give me a call. Hope your meeting went well.”
    She rolled her eyes as she clicked off. “Meeting-schmeeting,” she muttered. “A drink with a client doesn’t go for two and a half hours.”
    She brooded awhile. It wasn’t that she thought her father wasn’t entitled to a social life. But she didn’t even know who this client was. Lucas Tripp was