Burning for Trouble

I went into work every single day knowing full-well that I could die. As children, we were taught to get outside if we were ever in a burning building. We had fire drills at school and drew up escape plans at home with our families. Smoke inhalation could kill you. Flames could burn your skin, your muscles, your organs. Nothing about a fire says, “Hey, pull up a chair and stay a while.” Yet somehow, I’d grown up and had decided all of that was rubbish. 

I ran into burning buildings for a living. Fifteen-hundred-degree flames licked at the top of my head as I pushed further into the inferno while other people ran out. Some might call me crazy, but I wouldn’t trade my career as a lieutenant in the New York City Fire Department for anything.

I ran my tongue over my top teeth as I stared at the stack of personnel files cluttering my desk in the firehouse. Those files represented one of the most important decisions I’d have to make as a lieutenant. It was a decision I’d made three times in my seven years at Ladder 171, but it never got any easier. Adding a new firefighter to our roster had to be done with calculated precision. Picking the wrong person could be disastrous.

Trust was a bitch of a thing, so when I say I trusted the guys I ran in with to do everything they could to save my ass, just like I would do for them, it meant a hell of a lot. That kind of trust went beyond a typical relationship. At any given moment one of us could be in deep shit, knocking on death’s door, and above all, we had faith that our brothers would rescue us or die trying. 

I snatched the top personnel file off the pile and thumbed through it, yet again. I practically had it memorized, but I was no closer to being decisive about this one. 

I tapped my pen against the open file and let out a breath. If my friend, Declan Murphy, hadn’t personally endorsed her, I wouldn’t have entertained the idea. It’s not that I’m against women in the FDNY; as long as you can do the job, I don’t care what’s between your legs, but I’ve got to admit I was apprehensive. Bringing a woman into a firehouse wasn’t something to be taken lightly. We had an ambulance in our quarters and all but two of the paramedics were women, so we weren’t a house completely full of testosterone, but putting a woman on my truck, was different.

A tapping on the window drew my attention away from the file and I glanced up to find Brix’s goofy grin on the other side of the glass. He pointed at me, then cupped his hands against his chest like he was pawing at a pair of boobs while blowing air kisses, then he pointed behind him toward the apparatus floor. I didn’t have to be an expert at charades to know what he meant. Victoria Masters had arrived. 

I closed the folder and took my time crossing the small office before opening the door. “I take it I’ve got a visitor.”

“Sure do, Lieu. And damn she’s fine.”

I smacked him in the back of his head. “Respect, Brix.”

He rubbed the skin at the base of his skull. “I’ve got all kinds of respect I’d like to show her.”

I smacked him again.

“Ow,” he hollered with emphasis, punctuating the fact that I hadn’t hit him hard enough for it to actually hurt. 

“Where is she?”

“Up front by the house watch. Didn’t think parading a babe—I mean, a woman—like her through this place would be the smartest idea.”

Despite wanting to chastise the guy, I was grateful to him for giving me a dose of reality. Filling the vacant spot-on Ladder 171 with a woman would be a horrible idea, but since she was already here, I’d meet with her briefly before sending her on her way and returning to scouring the stack of files for potential candidates. 

Leaving Brix behind, I crossed the apparatus floor and spotted her. She had on her standard issue duty uniform—navy pants and a matching long-sleeve collared button up. Her back was to me and as much as I was trying to be professional about it, my gaze drifted to her ass. I shook my head to rid the thought as I approached. I really was long overdue to get laid.

“Ms. Masters?”

She turned toward me and her smile lit up her face. Neither one of us said anything for a moment, giving me a chance to take her in. Her milk chocolate-brown locks were pulled tightly into a bun, which only served to highlight her broad cheekbones. I followed her jawline to her full lips before I forced my gaze to meet hers. There was something cat-like about her round, whiskey-toned eyes. They held an intensity that had me wanting to unravel all of her closely-guarded secrets in an effort to know everything about her. 

She blinked a few times in quick succession, breaking our stare, and held her hand out. “Yes, sorry. Hello. You must be Lieutenant McNamara.”

Is it possible she’d gotten as flustered as I had? I took her hand, appreciating the strength with which she shook mine. “Bryce McNamara. But everyone calls me Mack. Nice to meet you, Ms. Masters.”

She pulled her hand away. “Likewise, but please drop the Ms. and call me Masters or Tori.” There was a scratchiness in her voice that gave it a sultry appeal. 

I nodded and said, “Follow me,” as I led her across the floor to the rear where the office was. All of the officers shared the cluttered ten-by-ten room. There were two desks against one wall and two others on the parallel wall, leaving a narrow walkway down the middle. I pulled out the old cloth desk chair beside me. “Have a seat.”

She did as I instructed while I sank into mine, making it squeak. I reached for her personnel file and thumbed through it to give myself time to shake whatever weird connection I felt with her. I cleared my throat. “I hear you’re looking to transfer.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

I ran my tongue over my top teeth. “Six years on the job. Tell me about it.”

“What would you like to know?”

Everything. “What made you become a firefighter?”

“Honestly, after I left the Coast Guard, I took the test simply because I needed a job. A ‘normal’ civilian career would never have been enough for me. I’d liked the shipboard firefighting training I’d done and figured why not, but I hadn’t expected to really enjoy the job so much. The first time I carried a nozzle into a burning building at the Fire Academy, I was hooked. Now I realize this is exactly what I was meant to do all along.”

“What makes you say that?”

She laced her fingers on her lap and I noted the absence of a wedding ring. “Because I’m good at it and I won’t apologize if you think that sounds cocky.”

A half-smile took over my lips. There was nothing sexier on a woman than confidence.

She continued, “In the history of the FDNY there have only been two female Battalion Chiefs—the first was promoted in 2003 and the second in 2020. I intend to make that list one day.”

“Looks like you and I have similar goals, Masters,” I said as I closed her file and dropped it onto my desk. “You know, I started my career at Ladder 145, too.”

She nodded. “Yes, Lieutenant. I’m aware.”

I wet my lips. “If I hadn’t decided to become an officer, I would’ve finished out my career there. It’s one of the best houses in the department. For someone with your ambitions, getting experience there is golden.”

Her eyes darkened. “It is.”

“Then I just have one question for you. Why the hell do you want to leave?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, covering the Masters embroidered on her shirt. “I live in New Jersey and need to be closer.” 

Her clipped response was hiding something more, so I pushed. “You only have to make the drive two or three times a week.”

“I know, but I have family obligations in Jersey.”

I reached for a ballpoint pen on my desk and tapped it on the arm of my chair. “You married? Have kids?” Firefighters never wore wedding rings on the job because too many guys had gotten theirs caught, sheathing their fingers to the bone, so even though she wasn’t donning one, something in me needed to know it was because she didn’t have a husband. 

She shook her head. “No.” Her friendly expression turned to stone as her jaw tightened.

I pressed my lips together to hide my relief at her admission. This woman didn’t owe me an explanation, yet I wanted it. Badly. I pulled the cap off the end of the pen and replaced it over the tip. Not ten minutes prior I’d had every intention of dismissing Victoria Masters as an option, but having met her, I couldn’t fight this nagging feeling that I needed to be around her. I needed to know her. 

“I’ve asked around about you,” I said. “Your reputation is stellar.”

“I worked hard to earn that, Lieutenant.”

I nodded. “I have no doubt that you did. Declan Murphy’s a good friend of mine, and I don’t take a recommendation from him lightly.” I tossed the pen onto my desk. 

“Nor should you,” she replied. “Murph taught me a lot. He’s damn good at this job.”

I laced my fingers over my stomach and reclined in the chair. “I’ll be real with you, Masters. We’ve never had a woman on our truck.”

She nodded, telling me she understood exactly what I wasn’t saying, then she countered, “Neither had L145.”

I grinned. “And what makes you think you’ll be a good fit for us here at 171?”

“Every relationship is a give and take. One thing I haven’t had the opportunity to experience in Bed-Stuy is high rise, but I can get that here. If I’m going to be an effective leader in this department one day, I need to do it all.” She placed an elbow on the armrest and leaned her weight onto it. “As for what I can bring to the table, I’ve had to work harder than most people on this job to get to where I am today. I’ve had to earn the respect of my team by proving that if a brother goes down, I’d get him out or die by his side. Sure, we’ve all had to prove that at some point in our careers, but I’ve had to prove it over and over and over again—simply because I have boobs.” There was no animosity in her voice, she spoke matter-of-factly. “There was an entire house of men waiting for me to fail, and that only fed my tenacity. I won’t break, Lieutenant. That’s what I’ll bring to this house. I will prove to you that I’m meant to be a firefighter.” She pointed to the stack of folders on my desk. “You won’t find anyone in those who’s more determined to succeed than I am, sir. I can guarantee it.” She stared me down, daring me to find a hole in her argument.

I assessed the woman before me. Declan had told me she was tough, but after that speech of hers I was eager to see her put to the test. She talked a big game, but I had a feeling she’d actually back those words up, unlike many I’d met over the years who thought themselves to be invincible. I straightened my spine and extended my hand to her. “It was nice meeting you, Masters.”

She slid her hand into mine. “You, too, Lieutenant.”

We held on far longer than we should’ve and our eyes locked. I searched her expression for more information, but it was clear she had a concrete wall guarding her soul. An ache in my chest made me want to take a wrecking ball to it, but the more I stared, the more her wall fortified. The need to know her story burrowed into my gut the longer I held onto her. In my thirty-six years on this earth, I’d only felt connected to another person like that one other time. My wife.

Ex-wife. 

The realization snapped me out of the trance, making me release her hand and break our eye contact. I stood and she rose to her feet as well.

“I’ll walk you out,” I said, stepping around her to open the door. We silently made our way to the front of the house and when we got there, I tipped my chin. “I’ll be in touch.”

She nodded. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

I opened the door and watched her walk through it, before she turned and disappeared down the sidewalk.

Once she was out of sight, I muttered under my breath, “Welcome to 171, Victoria Masters.”