Page 6 of Up In Flames

Oren

I t wasn’t that I didn’t want to be alone with Will, or that being at a park full of firefighters and other strangers was exactly the same thing as being alone with him, but conning half the office into going with me calmed my nerves.

Hal had been an easy sell. Once Simon got wind of where I was going and what it was benefitting, he declared that it would be good to get out into the community and show our support.

And that’s how a casual invite to a barbeque had me milling about the park with a bunch of my coworkers.

Simon even ditched his suit. Well, his jacket and tie. He still wore the slacks and the button-up, but the sleeves were rolled up and the top two buttons left undone, making him look both relaxed and powerful.

Hal wore a plain green polo shirt and khakis, and I’d shown up in jeans and a graphic tee. How I managed to feel underdressed at a casual function was all on Simon and Hal.

Some of the other people from the office had arrived already and were spread about at various stations.

“Where’s your firefighter?” Hal asked, scanning the crowd.

“He’s not my firefighter.” My stomach swooped at that, but I didn’t know why. “And he said something about chili, so I’m guessing he’s near the food somewhere.”

I dragged my gaze through the park. The weather had held out, and it was a nice day to be outside.

Comfortably warm with a gentle breeze blowing through now and then.

I managed to catch sight of Will and, as predicted, he was in the tent where the food was being served.

The event had been going for a while before we’d arrived, meaning there wasn’t a huge line of people.

Looking around for Hal, I saw that he and Simon had wandered off to try their chances at some of the carnival games. That was probably Simon’s idea. His competitive streak was no secret around the office. Most people seemed to avoid squaring off against him, but not much seemed to faze Hal.

When I turned my attention back to Will, he was looking at me.

The idea of him watching me had my body warming from head to toe.

Now that he’d noticed me, I forced my feet to move toward the tent where he was stationed.

Food was sold by donation, so I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and handed it over to the teenager they’d put in charge of the cash box.

They mumbled a thank you, tucked the money away, and I went down the line to where Will stood. He had his standard firefighter t-shirt on with an apron over top.

“Came for my famous chili, did you?” Will grabbed a Styrofoam bowl and scooped a generous helping of chili into it. “There’s garlic toast and cheese down the line if you want. Take a seat; I’m going to get someone to switch out, and I’ll join you.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” I took the bowl from him and hoped that he didn’t see the way I almost dropped it when our fingers brushed.

“I’ve been at this for hours now. I could use the break.” Will tugged at the apron strings and pulled it loose. “Give me two minutes.”

I nodded. For some reason, talking around Will made me self-conscious. Was I that sad and lonely and desperate for a friend that I was overthinking our every interaction? It felt that way. Like no matter how I acted, I cringed at myself.

I used the tongs provided and put some shredded cheese on top of my chili, then picked a piece of garlic bread from the tray.

On the other side of the tents where the food was being served were rows of tables and chairs.

I took a seat at an empty one and stirred the cheese into the chili while I waited for Will.

True to his word, he sat down a minute later with his own bowl of chili. He’d topped his with even more cheese and mixed it in.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me and half the office.” I motioned to where Hal and Simon were battling it out over at the bean bag toss.

“It’s nice of them to come show their support.” Will seemed pleased that I’d brought so many people along with me. “I see you haven’t been by the face painting station yet.”

“Not sure I can fit that into my busy schedule.” I took a bite of the chili and bit back an obscene groan. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks.” Will beamed at me. “I’d say it’s an old family recipe, but that would be a lie.”

“You made this?” I took another bite. The chili was pleasantly spicy without being too much. It had been cooked to perfection, and it would be hard not to lick the bowl when I was done.

“I did. I’ve always liked to cook. My mom, you see…” Will leaned closer like he was about to tell a secret. “My mom is a terrible cook. Awful, really. Dad had to work, so if he couldn’t cook, Mom would.” Will shuddered.

“That bad?”

“She put peanut butter and raisins in rice pudding.”

I grimaced, remembering too late to try and school my features to hide my obvious disgust. Will was unbothered, however, and merely looked at me and smiled.

“Exactly,” he said. “I’ve been cooking since I was seven or eight. Dad taught me the basics, and after that it was just trial and error. Lots of error.”

“I’m sorry, but your mom must be a horrendous cook if a seven year-old’s cooking is preferable.”

“Mom can make a mean microwave meal. And she doesn’t always fuck up the frozen pizzas.” Will spoke of his parents with such an obvious fondness, even though he was slandering his mother’s cooking.

“Is your dad a good cook?”

Will nodded. “But I’m better. When they invite me for dinner, they ask what I feel like cooking, and they buy the ingredients for me.”

Dunking my garlic toast in my chili, I smiled at Will. “They invite you for dinner and make you cook it? That’s hilarious. Does anyone else invite you for dinner and then make you cook it?”

“Not counting the guys at the station, no one yet. But maybe one day I’ll be so lucky. That’s why I was at the station the other day when you stopped in. I hate cooking for just myself, so I often find myself down at the station cooking for everyone.”

I used the garlic toast to mop up the rest of the chili in the bottom of the bowl. “If all your cooking is like this, I might have to quit my job and become a firefighter. Do you have these fundraisers often? Say, like, every day?”

“Sorry, but no. Not as often as that.” He motioned to my empty bowl. “Did you want seconds?”

“I don’t think I could eat another bowl, as good as it was. I’m a bit stuffed.”

“Do you have room for dessert?”

“Dessert?”

“Sutton’s brother owns his own creamery, and he’s donated all the ice cream for today’s event.”

“Is that a firefighter thing? Calling everyone by their last name?”

Will grinned at me and when he stood, I followed. We dumped our bowls in a trashcan. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I stuck to Will’s side as he led me to an ice cream truck.

“I’d never thought of it before, but I think so. I’ve been Dorsey since my first day, and all the introductions were done with last names. Sometimes I forget their given names, so don’t quiz me on them. Don’t you lawyers have any weird habits that are exclusive to lawyers?”

“You mean besides ritual sacrifice and blood magic? Not really.”

I hadn’t thought it was that funny, but a laugh ripped out of Will, and he bumped his shoulder into mine as we waited for the line at the ice cream to move.

“You’re a funny guy.”

“Thanks. All of us at the office take turns with the sense of humor. Today was my turn.”

Will laughed again, and this time he put his hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

My body tingled from the contact. How long had it been since I’d been touched so casually?

Will hadn’t minded it when I fell apart at the cafe, and the longer I hung around him, the more I began to suspect that he was just a tactile person.

“What flavor do you want?” Will asked as the line inched forward.

“I’m a simple guy. Chocolate is fine.”

“Simple is good.” Will shot me a smile and fished a couple of bills out of his wallet. He passed them over to the person collecting donations and ordered two bowls of chocolate ice cream.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure that the pistachio ice cream is amazing, but I can’t bring myself to eat something that looks radioactive.”

“Chocolate is a classic. It’s comfort food.”

“I bet you make your own ice cream.” I glanced at Will and saw him duck his head a little. “Oh, my God. You do, don’t you?”

“Not all the time. And not many flavors. But I have made it before. Sutton’s brother gave me a crash course at the creamery.”

“That’s so cool.” I scooped up a spoonful and ate it while I rolled the idea of Will making ice cream around in my head. “It must be nice to have a hobby like that where there’s always something new to learn. I haven’t had a hobby since I decided to be a lawyer.”

“It’s never too late, you know.”

“I wouldn’t know what to do. I’m not artistic or creative. I can draw a mean stick person. And last time I did karaoke, my friends paid me to stop. Although I was pretty loaded.”

“You don’t have to be good at something to enjoy doing it.”

“Says the man who is probably good at everything he tries.”

“I’d love a chance to prove you wrong. I can be bad at things.”

“So competitive, Dorsey.” Using his last name sent a little thrill through me. I hadn’t even meant to, but it seemed to fit the conversation. My mood was lighter today than it had been in months. Maybe even since before the accident.

“We’ll have to find something neither one of us has done before so I can prove it to you.”

“I’ve never met someone so eager to prove to someone else that they suck.”

“I’ll go to great lengths to prove a point.”

Maybe it was fate that the face painting tent appeared when we turned a corner.

Or maybe Will had been steering me there all along.

On a normal day, I definitely would not have even let the thought cross my mind but today wasn’t a normal day.

Today was the first day in forever that I’d been outside and noticed the sun on my skin and how alive I felt when the wind blew.

“What are you doing?” Will asked as I stepped into line behind a few little kids.

“Getting my face painted. What do you think? Tiger? Lion? Spiderman?”

“Butterfly. Purple with glitter.”

One of the stations cleared out a few minutes later. Will took my empty ice cream bowl for me and milled around waiting while I got my face painted. The lady doing it seemed amused to have an adult sit in her chair, but she didn’t make fun of me. Not even when I told her what I wanted.

“William Dorsey, what are you doing?” the lady applying my face paint said.

I turned my head and saw “William” sitting at another station as someone else started to apply face paint for him.

“I can’t let Oren have all the fun. Now turn around so she can finish. No peeking until we’re done.”

The paint wasn’t the most pleasant thing I’d ever put on my skin.

It made my face feel dry and tight wherever she applied it, but it was washable and for a good cause.

Even though I’d done it willingly, I still felt a little silly when she held up the mirror.

The left half of my face was covered in orange and black Monarch butterfly wings.

Looking in the mirror at the finished result made some of the silly feelings go away.

As far as face paint went, she’d done a wonderful job.

Good enough that I didn’t feel entirely ridiculous.

I pulled some more money out and dropped it in the donation box. “Are you beautiful yet, Dorsey?”

Will stood and turned around. He’d gone for the tiger look. Orange and black stripes covered his face. He even had whiskers and a pink kitty nose to complete the look.

“How do I look?” he asked, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

Like someone who knew how to have fun. Like someone I needed. “Like a giant kitty,” I said instead.