Burning Ambition (3 page)

Faith hurried in front of him so she would hit the host station first.

“How many?” the lanky high school kid asked as they approached.

“We’re meeting someone,” she muttered, and headed right past the guy, spotting her mother in a booth by the window. She didn’t look back at her dad, just hoped he would blindly follow.

“Hi, honey,” Nita Peligni said.

Faith smiled, bracing herself.

“What on earth—?” her mom began.

“What are you doing here?” her dad asked at the same time.

“Faith.” All warmth was gone from her mother’s voice.

“Dammit, Faith.”

“Wait,” Faith said quietly but firmly. “Dad, sit down. Please, Dad.”

He studied her, as if the reason for this meeting was jotted on her forehead. Then he turned his tired eyes toward his soon-to-be-ex-wife. “Okay with you, Nita?”

“I don’t know what good it’s going to do, but fine. Faith, what is this about?” Nita crossed her arms, her dark hair—all natural and not a hint of gray—falling in a bob just below her ears. She wore a peach T-shirt that washed her complexion out, and the shadows under her eyes aged her. It was evident the separation wasn’t agreeing with her, but far be it from Faith to point that out.

Tony slid into the booth across from Nita and Faith took a seat next to him, trapping him there.

“Well? What gives?” her dad asked her, shoulders sagging.

“I just wanted to spend some time with my parents. Together. I’ve been back for two months now and I’m sick of visiting you one at a time.”

She was staying with her dad in the family home—which was rambling and empty with just the two of them. No wonder he’d seemed so distraught when she’d come back from San Antonio. He’d been wandering around in the echoing twenty-five hundred square foot house by himself. Her mother had moved into a sterile, colorless, two-bedroom apartment on the mainland.

“We’re getting a divorce, Faith.” Her mom looked at her with those unwavering dark brown eyes that could scare small children, not telling Faith anything she didn’t know. Just the one fact she didn’t want to accept.

“Why the rush?” Faith asked, taking a tortilla chip from the red plastic basket in the middle of the tiled table. “You have your whole life to get divorced, if it’s really the right thing. What if you’re making a mistake?”

“We’re not making a mistake,” Nita said resolutely.

Her dad was noticeably silent, crunching on chips, eyes on the table.

“Dad?”

He only shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess. I know it’s hard on you kids, even though you’re grown up.”

“It’s because of my career, isn’t it?” Faith asked, desperation clawing at her to somehow find the key, keep them together, make them see reason.

“What?” her dad exclaimed with both outrage and shock. “No. Your choice to become a firefighter has nothing to do with our marriage.”

“You guys have argued about it for years,” Faith said, spouting the suspicion that had been gnawing at her since they’d broken the news of their separation. “Ever since I was twelve years old and told you that’s what I wanted to do.”

“It’s something I will never understand, Faith,” her mom said, repeating the same tired chorus. “It’s not a job for a woman. It’s not safe. I thought maybe when you broke your collarbone it might knock some sense into that head of yours, but you’re back at it. Just waiting until the next injury, God forbid.”

An unfamiliar uneasiness rolled through Faith’s gut, but she ignored it. The collarbone had healed. The building that had collapsed on her in San Antonio should be a distant memory. “A man would’ve suffered the same injury I did if he’d been standing in that exact spot when the roof caved in. It had nothing to do with ovaries or breasts.”

“Faith.” Her dad held his palm up, as he so often had, and waited until she pressed hers to it out of habit. That it was something they’d done for as long as she could remember, a sign between her and her dad. “Your mother will always worry about you. Can’t change that. You scared us when you got hurt.”

“So does that mean you think I shouldn’t have gone back to the career I love?”

“No,” her dad said, avoiding her mother’s steely gaze.

“Did you raise me to quit when bad things happen, Mom?”

This wasn’t at all what Faith had planned for their evening together, but she couldn’t stop the anger and disbelief from spilling out. It’d been festering for several years since her last big blowup with her mother on the topic.

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”

“This is my career. It’s what I love doing and want to do for the next twenty or thirty years. I plan to earn several more certifications, promotions, become an officer—who knows how far I can go? But not if I run away because of a broken bone.”

“I hope the next time it’s not worse, Faith.” Her mom’s eyes shone with unshed tears that almost got to her. Almost.

Again her dad held his large, work-roughened palm out, and when Faith completed the action, it soothed her enough to take a deep breath and realize she was about to ruin this evening. She had them together at one table, creating the opportunity for them to talk about inane things—anything
but
her career—and remember what they’d had in common forty or so years ago, when they’d fallen in love.

She opened her menu and scanned it, even though she knew it by heart. “What are you guys ordering?”

“Enchiladas,” they both said at the same time.

Faith hid a grin.

“Beef,” her dad said.

“Seafood.” Her mother glanced at her. “What sounds good to you, Faith?”

“Fish tacos, as usual.” She closed her menu.

Her dad’s cell phone rang and he answered, switching to his business tone and gesturing for Faith to let him out of the booth. She did, watching him walk past the host toward the front entryway.

The waiter came by to check their chip supply and take their requests. Faith went ahead and ordered for her dad, since she knew exactly what he wanted.

That turned out to be the wrong thing to do. He strode back in and grabbed the sunglasses that he’d set on the table. “I have to go. Mayor Romero called an impromptu meeting at city hall. You two have a good dinner.” He leaned over and kissed the top of Faith’s head before she could say anything.

“Tell the mayor he might want to rethink holding impromptu meetings over the dinner hour,” her mom said coldly.

Her dad nodded, showing no emotion.

“Dad?” Faith’s plan was falling apart. “Can’t you stay for a little while?”

“It’s important, honey, or he wouldn’t phone me at dinnertime.” He walked out, waving a goodbye over his shoulder.

Faith sank deeper into the booth. As she did, she caught a look on her mother’s face—of disappointment. Resignation. Just for a moment.

After a few minutes of awkwardness, the two of them engaged in small talk, which was what they did best. It was safest to stay away from topics either one of them cared a lot about. Before their food arrived, Faith spotted Joe Mendoza as he walked by their table.

He turned back when he recognized them. “Faith, it’s good to see you. Hello, Mrs. Peligni.”

“Good to see you, too,” Faith replied.

“Hi, Captain Mendoza,” Nita said. “Are you here alone?”

It was impossible not to notice the way the captain’s black polo shirt stretched to the limit over his shoulders. His long legs were encased in light blue jeans and he wore black cowboy boots. When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled, making Faith think he must smile a lot. His dark eyes flitted over her for an extra second.

“For now. I’m meeting my great-aunt for dinner.” He glanced around, presumably looking for her. “Are you ready to go at it again in the morning?” he asked Faith, referring to their shift the next day.

“Absolutely. Looking forward to it.”

“Did you hear about your daughter’s performance in the training drill on her first day of work?” he asked Nita.

“I did not.”

“She was impressive. Part of the winning team.”

“Pair me with a walking legend and it’s hard to screw up,” Faith said drily, trying not to bask in his compliment.

“Faith has some amazing rappelling skills,” Captain Mendoza continued.

Nita’s eyes widened and she nodded slowly, politely, but she wasn’t able to hide her true feelings. “That’s good, I suppose.”

An awkward silence fell over them. Thankfully, his great-aunt, who had to be ninety years old, came whisking up to his side.

“There’s my Joey,” she said, hugging him and then smiling at Faith and her mom.

Captain Mendoza introduced them all, and then the two of them made their way to the table the host had originally indicated, on the far side of the room. Faith followed him with her eyes, covertly admiring the view from behind. At the same time she was touched by the way he held on to his aunt’s elbow, pulled her chair out for her and pushed her in at the table. He sat at a right angle to Faith, giving her the opportunity to appreciate his profile. He was good-looking and a gentleman, but he was probably about fifteen years older than her and, much more importantly, her supervisor.

Their waiter delivered their food, and Faith and her mother returned to their stilted, low-stakes discussion of the unseasonable weather and Faith’s four brothers.

“You know, Faith,” her mom said when they were almost finished eating, “you’re the one who initiated this dinner. I know you’re disappointed that your father walked out, but you could give me your full attention, anyway.” She smiled as she spoke, but Faith frowned.

“I
am
giving you my attention.” She’d heard every word her mother had said, even if she wasn’t doing much of the talking.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Her mom scooped up guacamole with a chip. “He’s attractive, I’ll give you that.”

A flash of alarm had Faith straightening. “Who’s attractive?”

“Come on. Who have you been staring at for the past twenty minutes? The captain.”

“I’m not staring at him. Or if I am, it’s only because he happens to be sitting directly in my line of sight. He’s my officer, Mom.”

“After watching how the fire department tore up your father’s and my marriage all these years, I would think you’d want to find someone with a different lifestyle, Faith.”

“The ‘lifestyle’ is something I love,” Faith reminded her, picking up her glass to take a drink. “But I have no intention of dating anyone in the department.”

Her mom shoveled a bit of enchilada onto her fork. “Although…you did say advancement is your goal. I imagine getting to know the captain
better
is one means to the desired end.” She chuckled, amused with herself.

Faith set down her glass. Hard. “I don’t believe you just said that.”

“I’m kidding. It’s a joke, honey.”

“It may be a joke to you, but for me it’s my life.” She threw her napkin onto her half-finished meal. “I have enough trouble being taken seriously by the men I work with. I would think you, a female, my
mom,
for God’s sake, would see the importance of dispelling clichés that weaken women.”

“I’m sorry, Faith,” Nita said quietly. “But the way you were staring at him, and the once-over he gave you when he was at our table—”

“There’s nothing between us. There never will be. I may be ambitious and determined to advance, but
that
is something I would never do.” Faith strained to keep her volume down. “Ever.”

“Spotters aren’t supposed to make the lifter laugh,” she said, mopping sweat from her forehead with a towel.

“Sorry. You can lift a lot, though.”

“I have to. Not everyone is open-minded about women doing this job.” She’d started weight lifting in high school, already accustomed to doubts from her own mother.

“You’ll run into some skeptics here, if you haven’t already,” Evan said. “Ready for the next set?”

Faith nodded and got back into position, bracing herself for the weight.

Halfway through the set, the door opened and Captain Mendoza and Nate Rottinghaus came in. Faith was just starting to push herself up to a stand when the captain caught her eye and nodded subtly. She floundered, lost her focus and had to stop for a second to regain her composure.

Dammit. He was good-looking—especially in workout shorts that hinted at thigh muscles that didn’t quit—but that was no reason to be distracted.

He was watching her, adjusting one of the weight machines, when she closed her eyes and tried to clear her thoughts so she could finish the stupid rep and not look like an idiot. Or a weak female.

“Think you’re more than just a pretty face, huh?” Nate said once she was standing. He’d moved to the hand weights on the other side of her.

Instead of ramming the barbell into his head as she’d like to do, Faith didn’t blink. She moved straight into the next repetition, counting to herself.

“Another comment like that will get you written up.” The captain was suddenly right next to them, in Nate’s face. “Faith’s been working out for nearly ninety minutes. If you had a fraction of the work ethic she does, you might make something of your career.”

Nate raised his chin almost imperceptibly, kept his shoulders stiff, his face expressionless. “Sorry, Captain. Didn’t realize you’d taken her under your wing. Probably a good idea. It’s tough when you’re…new.” She felt his eyes rove up and down her body, making it obvious that “new” was not what he meant.

Faith gritted her teeth and rose with the weight too quickly.

“Whoa,” Evan said, steadying it.

“I’m done.” She let him take the barbell from her once again, her heart thundering. Technically, she still had three more reps, but to hell with them.

What she wanted to do was storm out of the room, but she still owed herself another half hour of exercise. If she stopped now, starting again would be tough. Plus, she wasn’t going to let the peanut brain scare her away.

“Thanks for spotting,” she told Evan. “Let me know when I can return the favor.”

“You got it.”

Faith went to the other side of the room and stepped onto one of the treadmills. She’d run three miles to start her workout and normally didn’t go much more than that in a day, but she had anger to burn. She turned the speed up to seven miles per hour and began hoofing.

She needed to start bringing her headphones so she could block out the world, specifically when she was in the presence of idiots. Today she had nothing to quell her nerves or distract her except the even rhythm of her feet hitting the machine. After a couple miles, it became somewhat hypnotic. Calmed her down a few levels.

At the two and a half mile mark, she noticed the captain heading for the door already. She glanced at the clock. She was six minutes short of her full workout time, but she stopped the machine anyway. Grabbing her water bottle and towel, she strode out with a wave in Evan’s direction.

The captain was turning the corner toward the showers when Faith cleared the exercise room.

“Captain Mendoza.”

He paused and looked back at her. She walked briskly down the hall toward him.

“We’re informal around here. Everyone calls me Joe.”

“I need to talk to you, Joe. In private, please.”

He studied her, his eyes flickering to her lips so briefly she wondered if she imagined it. She might have liked that in another time and place…with someone who wasn’t her supervisor. But here and now? Right after Nate the Flake’s stupidity? Not so much.

“We can go to my office,” he finally said.

As they both turned in that direction, he touched her bare waist between her sports bra and exercise shorts with his large hand. Faith flinched in surprise.

“Sorry,” he said, removing his hand and increasing the space between them.

When she glanced sideways at him as they walked, he stared at the floor as if embarrassed. For some reason that was almost endearing, or would be if she wasn’t already halfway to irate.

It seemed eons later when they finally got to his office, though it wasn’t far from the showers. The captain let her enter first, and she stood next to the door as he closed it.

“What can I do for you?” he asked in a relaxed tone that said he had no idea how ticked off she was. He walked around his desk and faced her without sitting.

“That scene with Nate,” she began.

“I’m sorry, Faith. He crossed the line—”

“He’s an idiot,” she interrupted. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“Oh?”

She clamped her jaw for a moment to let out some of her frustration in a way that wouldn’t get her in trouble. Meeting his gaze across the desk, she swallowed. “With all due respect,
please
don’t do that again.”

“Do what?” Joe asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Don’t stick up for me. Don’t jump to my rescue when a coworker acts like a pig. Just…don’t. Please.”

One brow flickered, hinting at his surprise. “It’s my responsibility. I don’t take that lightly.”

“This is different.”

“You think you should receive special treatment?” he challenged, crossing his arms.

“No! That’s just it. I don’t want any special treatment. I want you to go out of your way to
avoid
giving me special treatment.” Clenching her fists, she paced in the small space, doing her best to remain calm, professional.

He stared at her, eyebrows raised.

Faith glanced at the door to reassure herself it was latched. “Can I be frank?”

“Always.”

She barely registered she was picking at the cuticle of her thumb with her index finger. “In San Antonio, there were other females in the department. Even though a few of them had been there for years, we still weren’t respected as equals by some of the men.”

Joe nodded, acknowledging that the problem wasn’t unique to San Antonio or even Texas, unfortunately.

“Here, I’ve got two strikes against me—my gender
and
my dad’s position. I’m going to have to work three times as hard to receive half the respect. And I plan to do exactly that. It’s not right, but I knew the situation coming into it.”

“I have no doubt you’ll succeed.”

Faith shook her head resolutely. “Don’t you see? If you or anyone else—officer or not—smooths things over for me, I’ll never be seen as just another firefighter.”

“We haven’t worked together for long, Faith, but I’m certain you’re not
just
another firefighter.”

Was that to be taken as a compliment? She was momentarily surprised into silence, trying to read his intent. His face gave nothing away, so she continued. “I know the culture here. I grew up on the island. Practically grew up in the station. You may mean well, but I can’t have you interfering.”

Joe didn’t immediately answer. He just watched her. Made her nervous. Antsy.

“I appreciate your dilemma,” he said at last, in that low semidrawl of his. “But as a captain I can’t allow certain things to go on in the station when I’m on duty.”

“I understand that, Joe. I’m not asking you to bend any rules or allow blatant harassment or anything like that. But harmless comments from people like him… If I can ignore it, why can’t you?”

“You know what your dad would say if he heard I let somebody treat you like that?”

She shuddered to think of it. “My dad doesn’t have to know everything that goes on. He wouldn’t want to.”

“Everything, no. But I get the impression that when it comes to his daughter, he wants details.”

“So you’re going to tell him a bully picked on me at recess today?”

Joe shook his head. “I hadn’t planned on it, no. All I’m saying is that I’m going to do what I need to do when I’m the captain on duty.”

“When rules are broken, that’s fine. When people are jerks, could you try to rein yourself in? Please?”

Something in his jaw ticked as he studied her again. Seconds dragged on, and at last he spoke. “I’ll see what I can do. But I make no promises. Those men need to learn how to act.”

“If their mothers couldn’t teach them, no offense, but I doubt you can, either.”

“You might be right.”

“I have four older brothers. Three of them are decent human beings. The fourth, there’s no hope.”

“If neither the chief nor your mom could straighten him out, I might have to concede.” Joe’s mouth curved in a half smile but his stance remained tense. Serious. “Anything else you need?”

Faith shook her head. “Thank you, sir.”