The Firefighter's Refrain. Loree Lough
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She thanked him again, then headed straight upstairs to look for Sam’s card.
“Ciara,” she muttered into the empty can, “sometimes you’re too efficient for my own good.”
“What—what do you mean?”
“I threw something in here, then realized I need it.”
“What was it?”
“A business card.”
“Sam Marshall’s business card?”
“Yes...”
“I read it. And—and I remember what it said.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Finn smiled and prepared to type his information into her cell phone. “Go ahead. Tell me what it said.”
Eyes closed, Ciara began with, “It had a little shield in the top corner. Under that, it said Nashville Fire Department. Then, then it said Sam Marshall, Captain. And under that it said Academy Instructor. And then in the bottom corner was—was his phone number and email address.”
She recited the digits as Finn typed them into her contacts list, and although it wasn’t likely she’d need it, she added his email, too.
“Thanks, Kee. You just saved me calling around to find out how to get in touch with him.”
“You—you could have called Mark...”
“When you’re right, you’re right, but now, thanks to your excellent memory, I won’t have to!” She glanced at her watch. “How would you like to join me for lunch? We’ll go to Puckett’s, and after we eat, you can get something from their little store.”
“But I thought you hated the crowds over there.”
“Today, I’ll make an exception, just for you.”
“You’re the best, Finn!” Ciara hugged her, then headed to her room. “I’m going to wear my new sundress. I hardly ever get to wear pretty clothes!”
Finn had to admit she was right. For work, they wore jeans and red T-shirts under white aprons that bore The Right Note’s logo. It might be fun to put on something dressy and feminine for a change.
But first things first.
Finn dialed Sam’s number and counted the rings. If not for needing his recommendations, she wouldn’t have called him at all. So why did she feel disappointed when his voice mail picked up?
“Sam Marshall here. You know what to do. Thanks, and I’ll talk with you soon.”
She waited for the beep, then left a message asking if he could put her in touch with his contractor friends.
Moments later, the phone rang.
“Good thing I have caller ID...”
She would have recognized that smooth, DJ-deep voice anywhere.
“...because you forgot to leave your number.”
“Oh. Right.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry about that.”
Finn cringed and waited for him to say she didn’t have anything to apologize for. She’d been reciting the phrase so often and for so long, it was the first thing that came to mind any time things weren’t perfect. Maybe you should see a shrink to find out why. Then again, it made no sense to waste money and time on therapy when she already knew the answers: Misty and Connor.
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