I smiled politely and looked at my watch. “It took me exactly six minutes and forty-five seconds to get here. Your total’s twenty-five dollars even.”
The kid handed me two twenties. I dug into my pocket and came out with a ten dollar bill and five ones. He took the change and the pizzas and started to close the door.
“You know, I work on tips,” I said.
He sneered. “Shut up, boomer.”
“Boomer? I’m twenty-four!”
“Whatever.” He slammed the door in my face.
Yeah. It was going to be that kind of night.
I drove home in a bad mood, and not just because of the asshole customers. The crappy thing about working at a pizza restaurant was that the busiest nights were weekends. My Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights were always spent working. After a while, it wore a girl down.
Mom was ringing people up when I walked into the restaurant. “Another delivery,” she told me.
I groaned. “Dan’s still not back yet?”
“He’s back, but I saved this one for you,” she replied. She tried to keep her face still, but a small smile crept into her lips.
I hurried to the back and looked at the order slip.
South Henderson.
Firehouse.
I tried not to do a fist-pump. “How long until their order’s ready?”
“Two minutes,” mom said over her shoulder.
I hurried into the back bathroom and frantically tried to make myself presentable. I dabbed the sweat off my neck, then untied my ponytail and re-tied it a little tighter to keep the extra strands from coming loose. There was a red sauce stain on my left breast, so I dabbed it with a wet paper towel.
“Let’s go!” mom yelled from the kitchen.
I ran out of the bathroom and collected the food from the prep table. I still didn’t look the way Iwantedto look around the firehouse guys, but at least I was somewhat presentable.
“Don’t take so long this time,” mom told me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Mom smirked at me as I hurried out the door.
2
Clara
I tried to put on some makeup in the car ride over to the firehouse. For the first time in my life, I was grateful for every red light I hit since it gave me a little extra time.
Fire Station 31 was on the corner of South Henderson and Jackson Street. I didn’t know why it was number thirty-one, because Riverville only had a population of six thousand, and it was the only station in town. I parked out front, taking care not to block the driveway up to the station itself.
It was a nice night, and the big firehouse doors were open. The two red fire engines had been washed to a reflective shine, and in the garage between them sat three firemen. They were sitting in folding chairs, watching a baseball game on a small laptop screen. They turned and smiled broadly at me when I approached.
I’ve never really bought into the idea of a “happy place.” Like, the kind of place people tell you to go to in your mind when you need to feel good about yourself, or relax. “Stressed out at work? Go to your happy place!”
But if I had a happy place, it was definitely the firehouse. The guys werealwayshappy to see me—not surprising since I was delivering delicious food. But I couldn’t help but swoon whenever they smiled at me, or invited me to hang out with them for a little while, or gave me a friendly clap on the shoulder when I left. No matter how crappy of a day I’d had, spending a few precious minutes with the Riverville firemen always put a smile on my face—and it had nothing to do with the generous tips they always left. They just had that effect on me.
They weren’t just nice guys, either. The three firemen working tonight were gorgeous. Like big teddy bears of muscle and strength. But I was most drawn to Jordan. Broad-shouldered and tall, he was the kind of guy who looked like he could pick me up with one arm easily. He had an aquiline nose and a silky puff of dark hair. His full, kissable lips broadened in a smile when he saw me, and his green eyes were warm and bright.