Page 6 of Playing With Fire
Cass’s jaw tightened, her voice a touch sharper. “And who defines what’s essential? I’ve been in those fires, Evelyn. I’ve seen what happens when corners are cut—seen firefightersstruggle with outdated gear or lack of support because someone, somewhere decided it wasn’t essential. You can’t put a price on people’s lives or the trust we’ve build here.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed just slightly, but her tone remained measured. “Cass, it’s precisely because I care about safety that I’m pushing for these changes. I’m not suggesting we take away anything crucial to your team’s survival. I’m advocating for adjustments that’ll let us redistribute funds to things that matter even more. Better equipment, updated training, facilities—resources that will ultimately serve your team better.”
Cass folded her arms, sitting back in her chair with a skeptical look. “And how much of this decision-making comes from actually understanding the work we do here? Or is it all about reading numbers on paper? This team, this department—it’s more than just a list of expenses to rearrange.”
Evelyn’s expression softened momentarily, though she held her ground. “Look, I respect what you do, Cass. But we’re not talking about getting rid of teamwork or trust. I understand those intangibles matter, but if we don’t bring this department up to speed in terms of resources, we’re looking at a slow decline. And as much as I’d like to preserve everything that makes your team what it is, we have to make sacrifices for the greater good.”
Cass felt her frustration deepen, her voice sharpening. “Sacrifices? This is our lives, our routines. You’re asking people who put themselves on the line every day to take on even more risk, all in the name of ‘efficiency.’ You can’t just put that on paper and call it progress.”
The two women locked eyes, the tension in the room thickening as their stances crystallized. Evelyn spoke with finality, her voice low but firm. “Progress isn’t easy, and it’s rarely painless. But it’s my job to ensure this department survives, not just this year, but years down the line. That’s my priority.”
Cass leaned forward, meeting Evelyn’s intensity with her own. “And mine is to make sure my team is protected right now, not just theoretically. They deserve to feel secure, not like they’re at the mercy of a spreadsheet. If you want their respect, maybe you should start by showing them you value their reality, not just an ideal version of what you think it should be.”
A silence fell over the room, heavy and charged, as each woman held her ground, neither willing to back down.
The debate escalated, both women leaning into the conversation, their voices low yet intense, each point reverberating off the walls like a challenge thrown in the ring. Cass felt the heat of their argument, a fierce energy crackling between them as they navigated the complex terrain of budgets and personal convictions.
In a moment of movement, Cass reached for a document, and their arms brushed against one another—a fleeting touch, but it felt electric. Her pulse quickened, the contact igniting a strange awareness that sent a wave of heat coursing through her veins. Time seemed to freeze as they both registered the connection, the air thickening with unspoken tension.
The conversation faltered, their eyes locking for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Cass felt a magnetic pull, an intoxicating draw that made her heart race as she realized Evelyn was standing just a bit too close. The world around them narrowed until it was just the two of them in that charged space. Evelyn’s gaze flickered to Cass’s lips, and for a brief moment, the argument faded into the background, replaced by something raw and compelling.
But just as the air seemed to vibrate with possibility, the sharp blare of the station’s alarm shattered the moment, cutting through the tension like a fire hose slicing through flames. The sound was urgent, demanding attention, and the spell was broken.
Cass instinctively stepped back, breaking eye contact, her mind racing as she processed the sudden shift from intimacy to urgency. The room erupted into action as everyone sprang from their seats, adrenaline kicking in as the reality of their jobs took precedence over the personal sparks that had flared moments before.
Cass moved with the fluid urgency of a practiced leader, her heart still racing as she mentally shook off the weight of what had just transpired. The memory of that fleeting touch lingered, a ghost in the chaos as they prepared to respond to the emergency call. As she grabbed her gear, Cass cast a quick glance at Evelyn, who stood frozen for a fraction of a second, clipboard clutched tightly. Their eyes met again, but this time there was no time for hesitation—only the fierce commitment to their duties, even as the tension between them continued to smolder beneath the surface.
The energy in the firehouse shifted as the alarm blared, urgency sparking a flurry of movement. Cass quickly gathered her gear, her heart pounding not just from the impending call but from the charged encounter with Evelyn that still lingered in her mind. The adrenaline coursed through her veins, heightening her senses as she shouted commands to her team.
“Let’s move! Gear up, everyone!” Cass called, her voice cutting through the chaos. The familiar rhythm of teamwork fell into place as firefighters donned their jackets and helmets, the camaraderie fueling her resolve. Each person moved with purpose, the sound of zippers and clanking gear a comforting backdrop against the uncertainty of the call ahead.
As they rushed toward the trucks, Cass could feel the buzz of excitement and adrenaline blending with the lingering tension from the meeting. She stole a quick glance back at Evelyn, who stood framed in the doorway, her expression unreadable. Evelyn’s eyes met Cass’s, and in that moment, it felt as though time slowed again, the world around them fading into a blur.
Cass swallowed hard, the mix of frustration and anticipation swirling inside her. There was something about Evelyn—something that drew her in even as it irritated her. The conversation they had shared, the brush of their arms, the heat in the air; it was all replaying in her mind like a highlight reel of a game she couldn’t quite win.
“Let’s go!” Cass urged, shaking off the feeling as she hopped into the passenger seat of the fire truck, her focus shifting to the task at hand. The engine roared to life, and the siren wailed, cutting through the thick air of the firehouse as the truck rumbled forward.
As they pulled away, Cass took one last look at Evelyn, standing alone in the doorway, her stance a mix of professionalism and something more elusive. There was a hardness to her expression, a determination that mirrored Cass’s own resolve, and for a moment, Cass felt the weight of the unknown looming ahead.
The fire truck sped down the street, the familiar sounds of the city blurring past them. Cass clenched the handle of the door, her mind racing with thoughts of the fire they were headed to and the complex dynamics evolving within her department. Whatever had just happened with Evelyn was far from over; it was an unspoken challenge lingering in the air, and Cass was determined to face it head-on.
“Focus, Cass,” she muttered under her breath, redirecting her attention to her crew and the urgency of their mission.
Cass gripped the door handle tighter, her knuckles turning white as the siren screamed overhead, cutting through the air like a knife. The team sat behind her, focused and quiet, preparing for the call ahead—a reported house fire on the edge of town. She should have been thinking about the logistics: the hydrant placement, the best approach to contain the flames, the safety of her team. And yet, her mind kept circling back to Evelyn Ford. Shiny blonde wavy hair. Intense grey eyes. Elegance personified.
Damn her.
The woman had been in her life for barely a week, and already she was under Cass’s skin. Evelyn was everything Cass hated—cold, calculated, and with that ridiculous clipboard always in hand, ready to slash budgets and strip resources from the people who needed them most. She had a knack for asking pointed questions that felt more like accusations, and her clipped tone grated on Cass like sandpaper. Cass had fought tooth and nail for this department, and Evelyn acted like it was just another line item in her ledger.
And yet…
Cass’s jaw tightened as they turned down the main road, the truck’s engine roaring beneath her. And yet, every time Evelyn spoke, Cass couldn’t help but notice the sharp intelligence in her ice grey eyes, the way her words cut straight to the heart of the matter. There was a fire in Evelyn, too, one Cass hadn’t expected. It wasn’t the same as the camaraderie Cass shared with her crew or the burning passion for saving lives that had defined her career. Evelyn’s fire was different—controlled, deliberate, like the steady burn of a forge.
It pissed Cass off to no end.
Because she shouldn’t be noticing things like that. She shouldn’t be wondering what Evelyn looked like when she let that icy control crack, shouldn’t be replaying their arguments inher head like some kind of masochistic ritual. She hated Evelyn Ford. Hated the way she barged into their station with her spreadsheets and her condescending smirks, hated the way she dismissed years of tradition with a few carefully chosen words.
But most of all, she hated the way Evelyn made her feel.