Total Rush (27 page)

“This is the ‘Don't get pissed' part.”

Sean's fingers tightened around his napkin. “Okay.”

JJ's words tumbled out in a rush. “She came to the door and I opened it and I was wearing your robe and she asked for you and I was on the phone fighting with Chris and I just said ‘He's not here right now' and I closed the door and forgot all about it until now. I'm sorry.”

Sean made a sound like a dying moose and covered his face with his hands. “Oh, shit.”

Eventually he uncovered his face, staring in disbelief at JJ. She sank down lower in her seat.

“I really wish you'd told me sooner, JJ.”

“I know. I'm so, so sorry, Sean.”

Sean sighed. “It's not your fault. Well, it is, but there's nothing I can do about it now.” His fist hit the table, making JJ flinch. “Shit!”

“There is something you can do about it,” she said tentatively. “Go talk to her. Tell her you miss her. Beg her forgiveness and ask her to go out with you again.”

“I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Because the woman clearly hates me. She could hardly stand talking to me. Now I know why.”

“I thought you said she asked how you were?”

“She did.”

“Women don't ask how you are if they wish you were dead.”

“You don't know Gemma. She's nice to everyone. Bin Laden could step into the elevator beside her and she'd try to talk him out of jihad. That's the kind of person she is.”

“I don't know what to say. You cut her loose, and now you want her back. There's only one way to make that happen: Apologize.”

“Yeah, but—”

“But what?” JJ asked softly. “It's not rocket science, for God's sake.”

“No, but it is complicated.” He grimaced. “I don't know if you could tell by seeing her for those few seconds, but Gemma's not exactly a typical firefighter's girlfriend, you know?”

JJ looked appalled. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I told you about that night we went out with some guys from my house. It was a disaster.”

JJ put down her fork. “Okay, let me make sure I'm getting this straight. You miss Gemma, but you're hesitant to get back with her because a few of the boneheads you work with think she's a little offbeat?”

“I guess,” Sean muttered.

“Then you
are
an idiot.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You wanted to know what I think; there it is. No offense, but who the hell cares what those guys think of Gemma? It's what you think that matters.”

“They'll give me shit, JJ. They already have.”

“Then give it back to them! We all give each other shit about everything anyway! If it's not Gemma, it'll be something else. This is ridiculous, Sean. Are Leary and those other yahoos the ones you're going to come home to after a long day's work? Are they going to give you a family? Grow old with you? I know you worked hard to get them to accept you, but you succeeded, Sean. Any hell you catch from here on in is just bluster. And if it's not, then I think you need to get yourself some new friends. Life's too short to screw around with this stuff,” she concluded in a choking voice.

Sean thought her food had gone down the wrong pipe. Then he realized: She was starting to cry.

“Hey.” His hand snaked across the table to hers. “You okay?”

“Ignore me,” she sniffled, waving him away. “It's PMS.”

“Bull.”

“Okay, it's not. It's me and Chris. If Gemma makes you happy, go after her.”

“I don't know if I can give her what she wants. Not right now, anyway.”

“Then offer what you can and see what she says. If she tells you to get lost, at least you'll know you gave it your best shot.” Swiping at her eyes, she glanced frantically around the restaurant. “Now where's Dodge? I need a glass of water.”

 

 

“Excuse me, Janucz?”

Sean tried not to feel embarrassed for the building super as he jerked awake at the sound of Sean's voice. Janucz had been snoring so loudly Sean had been able to hear him all the way down the hall. He wasn't surprised, therefore, when he arrived at the super's tiny basement office to find him with his feet up on the desk and his head lolling on his chest.

“Sean, Sean, how are you?” The burly Pole motioned for Sean to come through the doorway. “What can I do for you?”

“A favor. A big one.”

“For you? Anything.”

Sean smiled at the compliment. The staff and the other tenants in his building loved that a firefighter lived under the same roof. They thought it somehow made them safer. Sean had never traded on his status, but there was a first time for everything.

“I need you to go into 5B when the tenant isn't home and put this inside.” He reached outside the doorway and grabbed a large, wrapped box.

“What is this?” Janucz asked suspiciously.

“A present.”

“And you want Janucz to place it in 5B? Falconetti?”

“It's not Falconetti anymore, but yeah.”

“Why for?”

To his surprise, Sean felt mildly embarrassed even discussing it. “It's a surprise. For the woman who's living there now.”

“Yeah?” Janucz wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. “That little redhead in 5B? She is your special friend?”

Sean feigned a wolfish grin he knew would communicate better to Janucz than words. “She was. I want her to be again. That's why I need you to put this in her apartment. I want to surprise her.”

“Hhmm.” Janucz folded his hands across his soft belly, and tilted back in his old office chair. “This is illegal, you know, just going into someone's apartment for no reason. Janucz could get in trouble.”

“I know.” Sean felt badly, compromising this kind soul. “But it's for a good cause. And I could pay you,” he added.

“You pay nothing,” Janucz shot back, sounding insulted. “You are a great hero of this city.”

Yeah, right,
Sean thought. But to Janucz he simply said, “Thank you.”

Janucz looked up at him with earnest, narrowed eyes. “If I do this for you, do you swear to tell no one, not even you own mother?”

Sean crossed his heart. “I swear.”

“You swear on the grave of you father?”

Exasperated, Sean bit the inside of his cheek. “My father's still alive, Janucz. But yes, I swear.”

“All right.” Pitching himself out of the chair, Janucz leaned forward and, picking up the box, put it on his desk. “Let me see . . . 5B, 5B, 5B,” he muttered to himself. Then: “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“You know who live on that floor? Croppy.” He shook his head sadly. “Sorry, Sean. Too dangerous.”

“Croppy won't be a problem,” he assured Janucz.

“What? Are you crazy? Croppy's always problem. Her late husband? Beelzebub, I'm telling you. He's the only one who would have her.”

“Listen,” Sean said patiently. “It's none of her business why you're going into Gemma's apartment with a gift box. For all she knows, Gemma asked you to bring it up for her.”

“Hhmm.” Janucz rubbed his pocked chin. “You are right, Sean. But if Croppy sees me, she will bust my balls. You know this. But I will do this for you anyway.”

“Thank you.” Sean couldn't express his gratitude enough. “Gemma usually leaves for work at around eight, and is home between six-thirty and seven. Can you do it tomorrow?”

“I can do it. No sweating,” Janucz said proudly.

Sean patted Janucz's shoulder. “I really appreciate this.”

“No sweating,” Janucz repeated. “You are a great hero of this city.”

 

 

A day later the encounter with Sean still had Gemma rattled. It was too much, seeing his image on the calendar and then running into him in the lobby minutes later with his new girlfriend in tow. It felt like a cruel sensory overload. Despite looking tired, he was still handsome in that rugged, heart-stopping way of his, with his unkempt hair hinting at wildness and the faintest hint of his cologne teasing her through the weave of his faded denim shirt. Malibu Barbie was a lucky woman.

Unlocking her front door, she found herself face-to-face with a large, wrapped box.

Her first thought was panic:
What on earth is this? Someone's been in my apartment!

Nervous, she looked around to see if anything had been moved or changed. Nothing had. Then it hit her.
Sean.
It had to be. Didn't it? Before her galloping pulse got the better of her, she forced herself to focus and listen to the still, small voice inside, the one that told her things, true things, about herself and others.
You want this gift to be from Sean. But is it?
Yes.

She tore off her cape and sank to the floor, tearing at the wrapping paper and carefully lifting the top flap of the box. A flash of hot pink hit her eye and she gasped in delight as she pulled it free, knowing just what it was: a hot pink wildebeest. Where Sean had managed to find another one, she couldn't imagine. Nor did she care. All her focus and attention was on the beautiful, fuzzy, unwieldy beast, its beaded eyes staring at her in supplication. There was an envelope pinned to its chest, and just for a moment, Gemma remembered the last time he'd used the wildebeest as a messenger:
Back killing me. Went back to my own rock hard mattress.
But that was then and this was now. She tore open the envelope.

Gemma pressed the note to her chest, breathing hard.
Oh, God. Maybe he wants to apologize? Maybe he wants to get back together?
Barely able to think, she got up off the floor and rushed to the phone, punching in Sean's number.

That's when she remembered.

Nonna.

Shoot.

She hung up. Tomorrow was Wednesday, one of her nights to watch Nonna. There was no way out of it, unless she switched nights with her mother or one of her aunts. She could already hear her mother:
You've only watched her once and already you're changing things around, making it a big pain in the ass for everyone, blah blah blah.
But this was Sean she was talking about here. Sean. The man whose eyes had appeared to her in the first love spell she'd ever cast for herself. The man who loved his family, and walking the beach in winter.

The man she loved.

Bracing herself, she dialed her mother's number. Her mother picked up on the third ring, her voice tired.

“Hello?”

“Mom, it's Gemma.”

Silence ensued.

“Mom?”

“I'm here.”

“I—I need to ask a favor of you.”

More silence. Deeper, resentful. Gemma held her breath.

“What would that be?”

“I need to know if you can watch Nonna tomorrow night.”

“Why's that?”

Gemma hesitated. Should she tell her the truth? Why not?

“I have a date.”

“With who? A warlock?”

“A firefighter,” Gemma said, ignoring the dig. “I was hoping you could watch Nonna for me tomorrow night and then I'd watch her for you Thursday. We'd switch.”

“I have my widows' group tomorrow night.”

Gemma dug her nails into her arm. “It's just one night, Mom. I promise.”

Judging from the drama of her mother's sigh, Gemma felt as though she were asking her to bring peace to the Middle East.
We're talking about watching your
own
mother for
one
night!
Gemma longed to yell. She bided her time and waited.

“I suppose I could do it,” her mother eventually said. “Or I could get Millie or Betty Anne.”

“Thank you so much, Mom.”

Gemma heard a grunt of acknowledgment. Then: “You know, I hope you're not going to make a habit of this, Gemma. Because it's not right, especially on such short notice. You're not the only one with a life.”

“I know that, Mom.” Gemma swallowed her annoyance. “And I appreciate it. These are extenuating circumstances.”

“Oh, yeah?” Her mother's tone was caustic. “Why's that?”

“Because firefighters work such odd hours. If I don't see him tomorrow, it could be weeks before we can find time again when we're both free.”

“Huh.” Her mother seemed to be considering this. “You sure you want to go out with a fireman?”

“Why not?”

“Because they can die on the job. Like Daddy did.”

Gemma jolted. She'd never made the connection between her father's death while working on a construction site and her all-consuming fear for Sean. “I know they risk their lives, Mom. It's a chance I'm willing to take.”

“Well, I hope you know what you're doing.”

“I do.”

“All right, then, you're covered.”

Gemma released her nails from her arm.
Ask me how I'm doing,
she thought longingly.
Talk to me.
But her mother remained silent.

“Great.” Gemma stared at the crescent moons she'd dug into her flesh. “I'll talk to you soon, Mom. And thanks again.”

“You're welcome,” her mother said, hanging up.

Gemma pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it, as if she couldn't quite believe she was sitting there listening to the buzz of the dial tone. But she was. Her conversation with her mother was over. It had been painful, but she'd gotten what she'd wanted.