Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Jojo clicked her seat belt and pulled away from the curb, mostly silent as she drove me to the MountainEar. Just a block away, she finally sighed and began to speak, but thought better of it. Her silence was welcomed. I knew what she was going to say, and she knew that I knew what she was going to say. People spoke too much and said nothing, which was the only conversation Jojo and I would have if she hadn’t closed her mouth.

She parked and gestured for me to follow her in. “Desk is still there. You remember how to do this?”

“I don’t see Wick’s truck,” I said.

“He’ll be in later. He has a meeting with some vendors.”

“For Turk’s?” I asked, swallowing. My throat begged for the burn of whiskey—anything to quiet the craving I’d had since my eyes opened that morning.

“Yeah. You didn’t go straight to bed, did you?”

“I tried.”

“You fucked up. Believe me, I’m not excusing what you did. But Daddy has been getting a lot of calls about your feature. I bet the Forestry Service is, too.” She opened the door, and I followed her inside, pausing until she switched on all the lights.

“Chief was right to make me go home. I wasn’t of any use there, and I made him look bad. I wouldn’t blame him if he banned me from ever shadowing them again.”

I walked into my office and Jojo followed, leaning her platinum locks against the doorjamb. “Me neither. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. When are they due back?”

“It’s a political fire. A lot of news stations covering it. They’ll be out the full fourteen days.”

She stood. “If there are a lot of stations covering, maybe I should go down there.”

Anger and jealousy ignited every vein in my body. Jojo had a family … She needed to stay the fuck away from mine. “They wouldn’t let me up there, Jojo, and I’m seasoned. I know their procedures and a little bit about fire behavior. No offense, but they’re not going to let you on the mountain.”

She winked at me. “When have I ever taken no for an answer?”

I forced a smile, glaring at the space she stood in before she rounded the corner to her desk. Just minutes later, I could hear her on the phone, squaring away the details of her coverage of the Alpine crew.

My eyes burned, but I willed away the tears, refusing to cry in front of Jojo. I typed in my password, feeling like the day I’d updated it was a lifetime ago—so full of hope that I was capable of change.

Jojo’s phone slammed, and she peeked around the doorway again. “Can you hold down the fort this week? I’m going south.”