Beautiful Burn by Jamie McGuire
"Noted," I said, pushing some of the pods and paper into the trash can.
Jojo gestured to Wick's door. "It's closed when he's in a good mood, open when he's not."
I raised an eyebrow at the closed door.
Jojo lifted her hand, holding her fingers next to her mouth. She whispered, "So you can hear him better when he yells."
"Also noted."
She pulled out the chair, and I sat automatically. Jojo didn't know it was second nature for me to sit in a chair pulled out for me, but I felt the blood rise under my cheeks when I realized what I'd done.
She tapped the space bar on the keyboard. "Create your own username and password here, but make sure to keep it written down somewhere so if you're gone I can access this if I need to." She waited while I tapped in my normal ESquared username and DoubleE5150! password. Despite my father's constant warnings, that login had been created in middle school, and I had since used them for everything. If Jojo had paid attention, she could have signed into my social media or even my online banking if she wanted.
Jojo educated me on the program I would use for Wick's calendar and reminders. It seemed simple enough. By the end of my first hour, I could check my email and Wick's, and had access to his contacts and what to say when his various friends and frenemies called.
Wick opened his door, and I waited patiently for him to yell, but instead he dug inside his front pocket for his soft pack of cigarettes and jerked his head toward the back door.
"Is your brain full yet, Ellie?" he asked.
"No."
"Good. Let's have a smoke."
"Dad..." Jojo said, unhappy. "She's being paid by the hour. We didn't hire her to be your new smoke buddy."
"He already has a couple of those," I said.
Jojo smirked. "Oh. You've met Tyler and Zeke, huh?"
"You know them?" I asked.
"Zeke is a big teddy bear. He looks mean, but he's the kind of guy that opens doors and brings you flowers. Tyler is a bastard."
Wick looked insulted. "Now, Jojo, don't go around telling people that. He's not a bad guy."
Jojo narrowed her eyes at him, and then her gaze turned back to me. "He takes Tyler's side every time. This is a sore subject with us." She looked back to her dad. "So I'm not going to gratify his ignorant opinion of Maddox with a reply, but he is a bastard. If you know him, you've already slept with him, so I'm sure I don't have to tell you that."
Wick and Jojo both watched me, waiting for an answer.
"So?" Jojo asked, flattening both her palms on my desk. "Have you?"
"Slept with Tyler?" I said, swallowing. I crossed my arms, fidgeted, and made weird noises with my throat while I tried to find a way to change the subject. Normally I wouldn't mind finding an abrasive, too-truthful answer for such an inappropriate question, but sobriety was a confusing time for me. "Have you?"
Wick turned to his daughter and put a cigarette in his mouth, holding it between his chapped lips.
Now Jojo was fidgeting and shifting uncomfortably. She stood upright. "I don't think this is a suitable conversation for the workplace."
"Damn it, Jojo! Now I'm going to have to shoot my favorite smoking buddy, because we all know I can't kick his ass!"
Jojo rolled her eyes and turned on her heels, walking around the corner toward her desk.
Wick waited for me to put on my coat and then led me to the back alley. A small steel storage building behind the magazine's main steel building created a cubby between the drive and us. A concrete pad provided parking spots for Wick and Jojo, but beyond that was a pasture full of snow and the intermittent rock poking through before a landscape full of Blue Spruce and Aspen trees.
"That fire station up the road ... is that the hotshot station?"
"And the city's second station. But some of the guys who work there are seasonal hotshots--like Tyler and Zeke. During fire season they live out at the Alpine barracks."
"What is a seasonal hotshot?"
"During fire season, they eat, sleep, and travel around the country fighting fires. Three to six months of the year."
"Oh," I said, wondering if Tyler was already gone.
Wick sparked the white paper and tobacco and took a puff, then handed me the lighter so I could do the same with one of my father's stale leftovers. The pack had three somewhat mashed cigarettes left, and I had just thirty-four dollars of the money Finley had left for me. Prices weren't something I had paid attention to, but I was sure I couldn't afford cigarettes before my first paycheck.
"Does nine hundred a week mean you pay me every week, or were you just talking wages?" I asked, rubbing my head. I could feel a headache coming on.
"Every week. Just like my bar staff."
"So ... on Friday?"
"Friday."
Seconds after Wick answered, I heard boots crunching against snow. Zeke and Tyler rounded the corner, already smoking and carrying on conversation. They both looked happy but unsurprised to see me, and then both took a turn shaking Wick's hand.
"Taylor!" Wick said. He noticed his street clothes the same time I did. "You must be off today."
I frowned, wondering if Wick was trying to be funny or he'd just gotten Tyler's name wrong.
"I heard you finally found someone to put up with your shit, Wick," Tyler said.
Wick had told Zeke and Tyler the day before I was hired. Now he acted as if he'd found out from someone else.
Zeke took a drag of his cigarette, and then playfully pulled at the sleeve of my puffy navy-blue coat. "Confused?"
I arched an eyebrow, unsure if it was a trick question.
Their laughter was cut off by the sound of Zeke's pager. He pulled the clip from his belt and held it up, squinting. "That's me."
He patted Tyler on the shoulder as he nodded to Wick. "Maybe I'll see you guys this afternoon. It's just a meeting."
I waved to him, and then crossed my arms as the air between the three of us who remained quickly turned awkward. Tyler and Wick traded smug grins, clearly sharing a silent joke at my expense. I glared at them, relieved when Jojo poked her head out through the back door.
"Annie is on the phone for you."
"I'm on a break," Wick growled.
"You should probably take it. It's the refrigerator again."
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Wick said, tossing his cigarette and missing the canister.
The back door slammed behind him, and I picked up his still-lit butt and buried the end in the sand.
"Good thing you picked that up," Tyler said.
"I've heard that one already," I said, taking a drag.
Tyler pulled his cap low over his eyes, and then shoved his hands deep in his coat pockets. Before I could ask him how he managed to get the day off, he grinned.
"How is it? Working for Wick?" he asked.
"Not as bad as I thought it would be."
"That's unexpected."
I took another drag, watching him put out a cigarette and light another. "Do you come here every day?"
"During fire season, yes. In off season, if I'm here."
"When are you not here?"
"When I'm traveling."
"Oh."
"Oh?" he asked. I could see that familiar desire in his eyes, even behind the shadow cast by his ball cap. The dimple in his left cheek deepened, and he leaned a millimeter in my direction.
Even that nominal response made the old me wish for a bottle of bourbon and a dark room. I swallowed. The old me was just two days away, and she wasn't buried deep enough to withstand the way Tyler was looking at me. I wanted to hide underneath his body and replace the pain with his fingers digging into my hips and to watch him tense while he thrust himself deep inside me, forgetting everything else but Tyler's rough hands on my bare skin, letting the sweet escape of intoxication carry me through.
"Stop looking at me like that," I snapped.
"Like what?"
"Like you've seen me naked."
"Have I?"
I roll
"Hey," he said, reaching out. He scanned my face, almost as if he was trying to remember. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
I shrugged him off. "I better get back in there. I sort of need this job now."
"Does uh ... does Zeke have a thing for you?"
"Zeke?" I said, my voice going up an octave. "No. I mean, I don't think so. No, definitely not."
"Do you have a thing for him?"
My expression twisted. "Why in the fuck are you asking me that?"
"Have you met my brother?"
I stood, completely confused. "You sound completely crazy right now."
"Just making sure before I make a pass at you."
"Make a pass at me? Are we in junior high?"
His eyebrows pulled in. He was really concentrating now, looking as confused as I felt. "I went to middle school."
"I don't think you left."
He breathed out a laugh. "What are you doing later?"
"Not you."
He choked on the drag he'd just inhaled, and then smoke and laughter tumbled from his mouth. "Easy, sweetheart. You're going to hurt my feelings."
"Listen, I'm having a hard time going back inside, which tells me one thing: you need to go away, and stay away. I'm trying to be good here, and you're ... not. Good ... for me ... at all."
He touched his chest with his palm. "I'm good," he said, feigning insult.
His confidence made my thighs tingle. "No. You're bad. And I'm bad. And you need to go back to the station or headquarters or whatever you call it so I can keep my job."
"I'm going to Turk's later. You should meet me there."
I shook my head, backing away. "Nope. Definitely not."
He took a step forward, amused by my retreat. He knew the effect he had on me, and he was enjoying it. "Am I making you nervous?"
My back touched the door. I sighed, looking up at the clouded sky. "I'm going to get fired." I reached for his face and planted a hard kiss on his mouth.
Tyler didn't flinch, gripping my coat and pulling me toward him. His lips were vaguely familiar, commanding and purposeful. He slipped his tongue inside, and I hummed, closing my eyes and letting him take me somewhere else--anywhere else--but the surreal, clusterfuck scenario I was currently in.
I pushed him away, breathless. "Is your truck around?"
"My truck?"
"Yeah, the one with the back seat." I reached down for the rock behind his zipper.
"It's ... at the station." He moaned, taking my ass in both hands. He lifted up, pressing me against him.
I was glad I was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. If I had been in the leather and light sweater I'd worn the day before, no amount of fucking could have warmed me up.
"Does Wick keep that storage building unlocked during the day?" I asked.
Tyler leaned back, looking down at me with labored breath. He grinned. "Are you serious?"
"Just check the fucking door, Tyler."
He tucked his chin and blinked. "Tyler?"
"What the fuck?" another voice said behind him.
Tyler's carbon copy gripped the back of his coat and yanked him backward, throwing him to the ground.
Zeke stood wide-eyed behind him before holding up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! They didn't know! I didn't tell him! I didn't tell her!"
I wiped my mouth and straightened my clothes. "What the hell is going on here?"
The Tyler on the ground wasn't sure what to think, while the one standing was clearly ready for war.
Zeke pointed to the Tyler I'd just mauled. "Ellie, that's Taylor, Tyler's twin brother."
"Oh, fucking hell," I said. They weren't just twins, they were reflections. I couldn't see a single difference. "What ... why didn't you tell me?" I cried.
"Shit. That's Ellie?" Taylor asked, holding up his hands, palms out. "You didn't tell me she worked here!"
Tyler pointed at his brother. "You didn't even get her fucking name before shoving your goddamn tongue down her throat?"
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Taylor said, sitting up slowly. "Don't act like you haven't done it a thousand times, fuck stick."
"You know better than that shit, Taylor! We always make sure. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"She..." he said, looking at me. "I asked about Zeke! I asked her about you! She didn't act like ... she didn't say anything!"
"Did you say my fucking name when you asked her, or did you just ask about your brother? It's not the first time someone's been confused."
Taylor shrugged, sheepish, and Tyler moved toward him.
I held out my hands. "I kissed him!" I blurted out.
Tyler froze.
"I kissed him!" I said again, touching my chest with one hand, the other still held out toward Tyler. "This isn't his fault!"
Taylor stood up and brushed snow and mud off his coat and pants, red-faced and teeth clenched.
Tyler glared at his brother. "I owe you one, dick."
"Fine, you owe me one." He glanced at me. "Nice to meet you, Ellie."
"That's it?" Tyler growled.
Taylor's jaws danced beneath the skin. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."
My shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry, too."
Taylor disappeared behind the storage building with Zeke not far behind. Tyler rolled back his shoulders and looked down on me with disappointment in his eyes.
"No," I said, pointing at him. "You don't get to be jealous. You barely know me."
"I'm not jealous. That was my brother, Ellie."
"Please," I sneered. "Like this hasn't happened before. Just based on the forty-five minutes I've spent with both of you combined, I'm fairly certain you've shared a dozen or more women at some point. Maybe without even knowing it."
"No," Tyler said, nearly pouting. "We have a system. It usually works."
"I have to go back in."
"Ellie?"
"Yeah?" I said, annoyed.
"Were you telling the truth or were you just trying to avoid a fight?"
"What?"
"You said you kissed him ... thinking it was me."
"So?"
"I thought you said you didn't do repeats."
I sighed. "I'm going to be straight with you, Tyler. I fucked up. My parents cut me off. I'm broke, and I need this job. I did something terrible to my sister, and I'm trying to change so if and when she finds out, she'll know I'm not that person anymore."
One side of Tyler's mouth curled up, and the same dimple on his left cheek appeared.
I pressed my lips into a hard line. "This was just a weak moment. I don't do repeats. Especially, definitely not now."
Tyler processed my words, nodding once. "Fair enough."
I breathed out a laugh. "Okay, then. Enjoy Colorado Springs."
"Colorado Springs?" Tyler asked, confused. Recognition lit in his eyes, and he seemed embarrassed for me. "Oh. That's Taylor."
My cheeks burned. "I'm glad I'm staying away from you. The twin thing is too much for me sober."
Tyler laughed and reached out, offering a low, small wave as he began to walk away. "Goodbye, Ellie Edson. It's been fun."
"Fun Ellie is dead. All that's left is broke-and-alone Ellie," I teased.
Tyler stopped. "She's not dead. Just transitioning. Like a butterfly."
"That's deep, Maddox."
"I've been deeper," he said with a smirk, pulling his cap down low, just like his brother had less than ten minutes before, and walked away.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head, pulling open the back door. Wick and Jojo nearly fell forward, and then pretended--poorly--to be doing something other than eavesdropping.
"Am I fired?" I asked.
"Fired?" Jojo asked. "Hell no! That's the most fun I've had at work since Daddy built this place!"
Wick held up a cigarette and squeezed by, and I followed Jojo inside. She went to her desk and I went to mine, staring at my computer for a full minute before I
"Ellie?" Jojo called over the speaker.
I pressed the button. "Yes?"
"Did you quit cold turkey?"
"Um ... yes?"
"Daddy is nine years sober. We're impressed."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. No more breaks today."
"Understood." I let go of the button and covered my eyes with my hand. The new Ellie's paint wasn't even dry, and I'd already managed to ding the first door that had opened. I rubbed my temples, feeling another headache. I wanted a drink; my mouth felt dry, and my mind toyed with having Jose stop at the liquor store on the way home.
"Ellie?" Jojo said from the doorway, startling me.
I pulled my hand away from my face. "Yes?"
"You're going the right direction. No one does anything perfectly the first time. It's going to be okay."
No one could have said anything better to me in that instant. Those three simple sentences set my soul at ease.
"Thank you," was all I could manage.
Jojo winked at me and returned to her desk.
I clicked a few times to navigate to the computer's settings, and then selected Change Username/Password.
USERNAME: ELLIE2POINT0
PASSWORD: RIGHTDIRECTION001
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bluegrass played through ceiling speakers placed throughout the MountainEar building. I thumbed through a stack of pictures from the recent half marathon, shaking my head.
"You don't like the music. I figured you were a rock chick," Wick said, walking into my office.
"I tune out the music," I said, laying the pictures down on my desk, fanned out. "It's the pictures. They're terrible, Wick. Who took them?"
"She's right," Jojo said, sitting on the loveseat across from me. She crossed her legs, her snow boots still wet from her walk inside. "I've seen them. They suck. You've got to quit letting Mike turn in that crap. Just quit using him period."
Wick frowned. "There's no one else."
I nodded toward Jojo. "Her coverage of the art walk was stellar. Why not just use Jojo?"
Jojo smiled and stood. "Because Jojo has an office to run."
"Who took those?" Wick asked, pointing to the frames on my desk.
"Oh," I said, turning them slightly. "I did. Just something to remind me what I'm trying to do."
Jojo walked around my desk, picking up a frame holding a picture I'd taken at my parents' house the weekend before. I had snapped just half of the black and white portrait of Finley hanging in my parents' main hall--taken when she was just fourteen. Even back then, she was stunning.