Six Hot Single Dads. Lynne Marshall
sure which he was more stressed about—sorting his feelings for Ashley or preparing for media night at the distillery.
“This is the last work thing I’ll bring up tonight, but we really need to go over the final details for media night on Saturday. It’s days away.” Marcus was excited by the prospect, especially since they’d had even more media outlets ask for an invitation after the two tabloid appearances with Ashley.
“You worry about your interview with Oscar Pruitt,” Joanna replied. “I’ll worry about everything else.”
“Dad has been waiting on a Chambers Gin feature in International Spirits for years. I don’t think I could worry any more than I already am.” If I don’t dazzle Oscar Pruitt, we’re sunk.
“Please. Marcus. Let’s save work for tomorrow.” Joanna held Lila’s hands and helped her motor across the kitchen floor. “I can’t believe how big my niece is getting.”
His little girl wasn’t far from being a walker. Before long, she’d be toddling all over the apartment, climbing furniture, saying far more than “hi” and “Da.” Things were going so fast—too fast. He had to get serious about dating, about finding a mother for Lila. He just needed a bit of time to get past Ashley mentally.
Marcus pulled a shepherd’s pie from the oven that Martha, his housekeeper, had prepared according to their mother’s exacting directions.
“Do I smell something burning?” Joanna’s voice squeaked.
“You do realize that jokes about my cooking aren’t going to work, right? I didn’t make this.”
She scooped Lila up into her arms. “No. I’m serious. I smell smoke.”
Marcus set down the oven mitts and stepped away from the stove. That was when the smell hit him, too. Panic quickly followed. “Is it coming from the hall?” He rushed to the door and placed his hand against it. Still cool to the touch, and no signs of smoke coming out from under it. And yet the smell was there. “Get Lila’s diaper bag. And your purse,” he barked.
He opened the door slowly. The vestibule was clear, but the smoke smell was stronger. One glance at Ashley’s apartment door and he whipped around to where Joanna was standing. “Get Lila out of here now. Take the stairs. It’s safer.” It was warm enough outside that they wouldn’t need coats. He patted his pockets. No cell phone. It was in his room. “Call the fire department on your way down. Now go.” He kissed Lila on the cheek, hoping like hell this wouldn’t be the last time he’d ever see her or his sister. “Everything’s going to be okay, darling. Go with Auntie Jo.”
Joanna’s eyes were wide with panic. “Marcus, you’re coming with me.”
“Go. Now. I mean it. I have to make sure Ashley isn’t home.”
Joanna disappeared into the stairwell with Lila.
He bounded over and began pounding on Ashley’s door. “Please don’t be home,” he muttered to himself. “Please don’t be home.” Was she in there? He didn’t have a phone. And why wasn’t the fire alarm going off? He’d have to do it himself. He lunged for the red box and pulled the bar. Without a second wasted, he grabbed the fire extinguisher across from the elevator and returned to Ashley’s door. No answer as he pounded the hell out of it.
The cycling squeal of the alarm was deafening, but he knew it would be a good half hour before the fire department could arrive. He’d read horror stories of Manhattan fires out of control. He and Ashley lived on the top floor, which would likely keep the fire contained, but the nagging question of whether Ashley was inside her apartment wouldn’t leave him. He couldn’t go. Not until he knew for certain she wasn’t home.
He touched the doorknob with the tips of his fingers. It wasn’t hot. Ideally the fire wouldn’t be too bad. He stood back and kicked the door with every ounce of adrenaline he could. The force of the kick rippled up through his heel and into his leg. It hurt like hell. Still, the door refused to give. He kicked again. And again. And again. Finally it flew open. Smoke was everywhere inside Ashley’s apartment, but it wasn’t so heavy that he couldn’t see. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and placed it over his mouth, then crouched down and went inside.
“Ashley!” he yelled from behind the cover over his mouth. Smoke billowed out of the kitchen. He stepped closer and saw the flames. He took aim with the fire extinguisher hose, surprised by the force with which the chemicals came. He sprayed back and forth across the base of the fire. Luckily it only took a moment before it was out. It had been contained to the kitchen, but it wouldn’t have been long before it would’ve engulfed the rest of the apartment. What would have happened if Joanna hadn’t smelled the smoke? He didn’t even want to think about it. After a quick look in the other rooms, he ran into his apartment, grabbed his cell phone and headed downstairs.
He placed a call to Joanna while he raced down the eleven flights. “Are you and Lila out?”
“Yes. We’re in a cab right now. What’s happening?”
“The fire’s out. It was a few minutes from being really, really bad.”
“Oh my God, Marcus. Get out of there. Get in a cab and stay with me for the night.”
“No. You keep Lila. It will make me feel a lot better if she’s safe with you until the fire department can check out the building. I have to call Ashley and tell her what happened.” He could only imagine how devastated she’d be. “Do you need anything?”
“I have plenty of supplies from the last time Lila stayed with me. Her diaper bag has a change of clothes. We’ll be fine.”
Joanna bid her goodbyes as Marcus filed out of the lobby with many of the other residents, who were all wondering what happened. Marcus found Mrs. White and filled her in.
“Good Lord, Mr. Chambers. Ashley will be so upset. It’s a good thing she can just move into your apartment now that you two are an item.”
He painted a smile on his face. “I have to call her right now. Can you speak to the fire department if they arrive while I’m on the phone? Excuse me.” He separated himself from the crowd of people outside the building, placing the call to Ashley, jamming his finger in his ear. “Please answer, please answer...” he muttered as the phone rang.
“I hope you aren’t calling to complain about my contractor. I’ve had the worst day.”
Her voice sent a surprising wave of relief coursing through him. She was okay. The fire was out. Lila and Joanna were safe. “I’m so sorry to tell you this, Ashley, but there’s been a fire.”
* * *
A fire. No. No. No.
Ashley had never so frantically hailed a cab in all her life. She yanked a twenty-dollar bill from her wallet and flattened it against the Plexiglas between her and the taxi driver. “This is your tip if you get me home, now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The driver looked over his shoulder, punched the accelerator, dodged another taxi and ran a red light.
She eased back in her seat and wrapped her arms around her waist, rocking back and forth. Deep breaths seemed impossible. Every drag she took of oxygen only teased her lungs before being quickly expelled. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”
She stared out the cab window, but she didn’t see the city. Instead, visions of the fire that took her family home when she was ten years old overtook her mind. She couldn’t push them out no matter how hard she tried. She saw it all, she felt it all—standing in the ditch next to Rural Route 4, the dusty road that ran past her family’s farm. Faded, splintered clapboards that her great-grandfather had hammered into place by hand went up like scrap wood in a bonfire. Licks of fire swallowed the living room curtains her mother had sewn from bedsheets. It was as if they’d been nothing, made of tissue. Every last one of their belongings—furniture, their clothes, her most treasured books, the diary she’d been keeping for only a few weeks, the teddy bear she’d had since she