Set Fire To The Rain

That One Night That Didn't Happen

Finally, he looked away, and I remembered to breathe.

Clearly, I was overreacting.

Not everything is about me.

This time it was about that office fire I started upstairs.

The one that brought the whole fire department to my floor, all because I couldn't just breathe and count to 10.

I know I can be a dramatic little princess sometimes, but that fire was only about as life-threatening as a birthday candle.

Was Fireman Sam showing up there really that necessary?

Looking very sure of himself and official in his bunker gear as he went on shooting the shit with security, Noe Shea didn't even seem to care I was standing there.

Why would he?

It'd been months since I'd been at his station, and I was willing to bet I wasn't the last ride-along who'd gone down on his fire pole.

By this time, he'd probably forgotten my name and what being inside me felt like.

Relax. Breathe. You did a thing, and now he's here to do his thing, and it's not a big deal.

I suddenly became very interested in finishing my roll call in my intern binder, letting the loose strands of my curls hide my blushing face. Until I felt Noe's gaze wander away from his conversation again and run straight back to me.

And there was no doubt in my mind that he recognized me this time.

Skipping half the names on the roll sheet, I snapped my binder closed.

"Ok, everyone here?--Great--Let's go."

I quickly led the interns away from the security desk through the foyer of the lobby, under the draping world flags that hung from the oblong mezzanine level above us, and following the predictable rhythmic play of shadow and light on the carpeted green floors, illuminated by the trident lobby windows, which stood long and open to the June afternoon daylight.

Eventually, we found a free elevator at the heart of the lobby, a core which housed a network of other express elevators connected to the upper sky lobbies.

And as the interns herded into the elevator with me, I saw Noe take a few steps away from the security desk in my direction. His jaw shifting, as if he wanted to call after me but stopped himself.

Somehow, thinking better of it.

I was only left with guesses as to what he might've been thinking, as he seemed more conscious of the other firefighters still standing around him waiting for orders.

He was still on an official call.

He wouldn't draw more attention to us.

Instead, he turned to Mckinley and leaned over to say something to him only he could hear.

And then, they were both looking at me.

That elevator door couldn't close fast enough.

~

Back on the 85th floor, the fire was out, and my coworkers were huddled around a cubicle talking low and excited about their theories.

"Maybe it was the guys from Fuji. Somebody stole a tuna salad out of their fridge the other day and they've been on a warpath ever since. This might be sabotage."

Luckily, our law interns belonged to a small office on the 86th floor that we kept for extra storage space.

And with most of the upstairs employees belonging to the Department of Taxation and Finance gone home already, it would be a quiet place for me to catch up, away from the drama simmering downstairs.