How to Date a Dragon (21 page)

He would have laughed, but they were interrupted.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Cameron!”

Oh, shit.
The chief was striding toward him and looked none too happy. Bliss ducked back inside, probably remembering the last time she got him into trouble.

“Nice of you to join us,” Chief Tate shouted. “Nobody knew where the hell you were.”

Drake checked his radio. “Sorry, chief. I think this thing might not be working.”

“Check it later. Right now we need to figure out if anyone’s still inside.”

“Everyone’s out,” Drake answered.

“And how do you know that?”

Drake pointed upward to the window where Adolf was still leaning out. “They’re all up there.”

The chief looked up. “Is that true, kid?”

“Yes,” Adolf called. “We’re all accounted for.”

“Thank God for small favors,” the chief mumbled.

One of the female residents Drake had helped to evacuate walked up to the chief and pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. “That man there helped us get down the fire escape. He deserves a medal.”

The chief shook his head at the ground and muttered, “Of course, he does.” Drake was probably the only one who knew the guy was being sarcastic.

***

Bliss and Angie stood on the sidewalk the following morning, scanning the devastation to their home and jobs.

Bliss hugged herself. “I had just printed all my cards to proof them before sending everything to the professional printer. I guess losing those isn’t a big deal when you consider no one lost their lives.”

“You lost all your hard work? Again?”

“No. Just the proofs and my cheap-ass printer. I still have the designs and my laptop.”

“Whew.” After a long pause, Angie shook her head. “I can’t believe it. Ruxandra may have inadvertently saved my life. If it weren’t for her, I’d have been in the apartment with you and not on my friend’s couch, hiding under a blanket.”

Bliss took a step away and gazed at her roommate. “Seriously? You were hiding under a blanket.”

“Only for a few minutes. Brandee finally made me believe that Nick wouldn’t let anything happen to me… and I had to come up for wine.”

Bliss chuckled because she’d have done anything for a glass of wine last night. She stared again at the total destruction in front of them.
Fat
chance
of
getting
one
here.

“So… do you remember what set off Ruxandra?” Bliss had been hoping and praying that Anthony was able to hypnotize her roommate before they were interrupted. So far Angie hadn’t said anything about the damning “diary” or dragons, or indicated that Bliss might have lost her mind.

“It’s funny, but I really don’t. I was about to ask Anthony something… and I can’t even remember what it was now. Ruxandra screamed about us staring into each other’s eyes like she thought we were lovers. It must have been her usual paranoia about Anthony hooking up with one of his staff.”

Hiding the relieved smile that must have made a brief appearance on her face, Bliss shook her head. “That’s one thing I won’t miss.”

Angie looked at her, surprised. “You mean there’s something you
will
miss about this place?”

“Of course there is!” Bliss put her arm around her roommate’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you, for sure. You’ve been the best, most considerate roommate I’ve ever had.”

Angie laid her head on Bliss’s shoulder. “Awww… you’re just saying that.”

“Not at all. It’s true.” Other things she would miss were more nebulous. She’d miss the friendly camaraderie of the regulars, Sophie’s White Russians, Claudia… but most of all, she’d miss her independence.

“So, where will you go now?” Angie asked.

Bliss groaned. “The only place I can afford that won’t resent my presence after a day or two. My parents’ house.”

Angie gasped and stared at her with an expression of horrified sympathy. “Oh, no. I know how much you hate it there. Couldn’t you move in with Drake?”

Bliss would have loved that, but picturing the two of them in that one cramped room was impossible. “I stayed there last night, but he was at the station. It’s too early in our relationship to be on top of each other—well, you know what I mean…”

Angie laughed. Bliss was glad to hear her laugh about something, even if it was her own Freudian slip. “Anyway, that’s one good way to kill a romance.”

“I suppose.” Then as if something just occurred to her, Angie gasped. “The competition! Are you still able to participate? I mean, they were coming the day after tomorrow, right?”

“Yes. I called the producer this morning. They’ll meet with me at my parents’ house, and I’ll just have to insist my mother behave herself.”

“What are you afraid she’ll do?”

Bliss pinched the bridge of her nose. “She’ll announce that I’m single and probably look right into the camera and claim any man would be lucky to have a woman who can cook and clean like she taught me.”

Angie covered her mouth and tried, unsuccessfully, to hide a smile.

Bliss didn’t give her a chance to pursue that conversation further. “You should have heard the glee in the producer’s voice when I told her I had been in not one, but
two
fires and had to recreate all my designs.”

“I guess that’ll make for good TV.”

“Exactly. I don’t know why I expected she’d react differently, but she never asked, ‘Wow, are you hurt?’ or ‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ You know what she said?”

“What?”

“She said, ‘Holy shit, the viewers will
love
that!’ Apparently I’m already the fan favorite, but when the show with the finalists and their families airs, and everyone hears about the catastrophes I had…” Bliss rolled her eyes.

“Hey, you should get
something
out of all this.” Angie rubbed Bliss’s back. “Did you call your mother to tell her you’re coming home?”

Remembering how her mother reacted the last time she’d heard her precious daughter had barely escaped death, Bliss sighed. “No.”

“I have my cell phone if you want to use it.”

“Thanks, but no. I figured I’d be better off telling her in person this time. As long as she can see me standing, walking, and talking, she might react a little better than last time. And that’s just a maybe.”

“I’m sure she’ll be relieved to know you’re all right.”

Bliss snorted. “Yeah, after she rails at the ceiling, asking God what I’ve done to deserve this. Then, assuming I know the answer to that, she’ll insist I go to confession and follow whatever edict the priest gives me to save my tarnished soul.”

“Or maybe she’ll just pray for you.”

Bliss chuckled. “You don’t know my mother.”

***

Drake sat in the chair opposite Chief Tate’s desk.
What
did
I
do
now?

When the chief finally walked into his office, he didn’t even sit down. “You’re going to the EAP, Drake.”

“The Employee Assistance Program? Why?”

“Because I think you should.”

“I don’t need…”

Chief Tate held up one hand to silence him. “I didn’t say you had a choice.”

“But I’m fine.” Drake turned his chair to face him. “I don’t understand. I had on my protective gear, I’m not coughing…”

“I’m not sending you for smoke inhalation… although that might be a good thing to look at and see if it’s clouding your brain.”

“Huh?”

“I
could
order
you to get a psych eval. I could say you have a death wish and are not only endangering your own life, but the lives of other firefighters.”

Drake shot to his feet. “
What?
”

The chief folded his arms and set his jaw, as if accepting Drake’s challenge. “You’re going. It’ll look better if you ask for the appointment yourself and talk to someone confidentially. I need to know if you have a death wish. If not, I’ll be glad to keep you on.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“From what I’ve seen and heard over the past few weeks, you’ve been taking too many chances and tempting fate. I thought you were in the bar when it collapsed, and that’s when I made my decision.”

“You thought you’d send my dead body for a psych eval?”

“No, dimwit. I promised myself if you got out alive, I’d send you for some kind of help
before
you wound up dead… and God knows how many more I might lose, trying to rescue you. I hate attending firefighters’ funerals.”

“That makes two of us.”

Drake didn’t like what he was hearing, but he had to admit the chief had cause. Anyone paying attention would eventually realize he was always the first one in and the last one out. It might look bad to those who didn’t know he was fireproof… in other words, everyone.

“Chief,” Drake tried to relax. “I understand how it might look, but I assure you I’m very happy with my life. I don’t have a death wish.”

“Fine. Tell it to the shrink, or whoever the EAP hooks you up with. If he thinks you need help, you’ll do what he tells you. Understood?”

Drake rubbed his eyes and muttered, “I don’t believe this.”

“Oh, you can believe it, all right.”

“You’re not
committing
me or anything… There’s still a chance the EAP will send me home with a warning to be more careful, isn’t there?”

The chief shrugged. “I have no idea what he’ll decide, but whatever that is, you’ll do it.”

Drake felt like a two-year-old who’d been scolded for running with scissors. “So when do I need to go?”

“How’s now for you?”

“I guess now works.”

“Great. Dismissed.”

“Mom, I need you to promise me, when the producer and camera crew get here you’ll be on your best behavior.”

Malinda Russo bristled. “What on earth are you talking about? Why would you think I’d be anything less than gracious?”

“I don’t think you’d be rude or anything… at least not on purpose.”

Bliss’s mother jammed her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This is very important to me,” Bliss peeked through the lace curtain and saw the truck pull up with the camera crew. “And to them.”

Malinda waved away her daughter’s concern. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I may have thought it was just a silly competition before, but now that I see how much it means to you, I’ll be nothing but supportive.”

Bliss hugged her. “Thank you, Mom.” As soon as she let go, she had to add, “And no trying to fix me up with the cameraman or lighting crew. Got it?”

Malinda rolled her eyes. “Why would you think I’d do that?”

Bliss hesitated. Sometimes honesty wasn’t the best policy. “No reason.”

“Are they Italian?”

Bliss blew the bangs out of her eyes. “That’s why! For heaven’s sake, Mom. I don’t know and I don’t care if they’re Italian, Polish, or space aliens… You
will
not
mention that I need a husband—or put across the idea in any other grouping of words.
Capiche
?”

“Fine, fine.” Her mother waved her hands and left the room, insisting, “I get it, Miss Independent,” on her way into the kitchen.

Bliss prayed her mother really did understand and would leave the unmarried men alone. One of the judges was male but as gay as they came. Her mother’s gaydar might go on the fritz because he was a handsome guy and might look like a good father for Malinda’s future grandchildren.

The doorbell rang and Bliss sucked in a deep breath. Then she forced herself to relax and answered the door, while her mother looked on.

A cameraman stood on their front stoop. “You’re Bliss Russo, right?”

“Yes. Come in.”

He waved to someone behind him and called out, “This is the place.”

In minutes, people, lighting, cameras, and cords invaded the small living room. Mrs. Russo peeked out from the kitchen and her jaw dropped. Bliss offered her mother a comforting smile, which she returned while seeming to relax a smidge.

Maybe
this
will
go
all
right
after
all.

“We’re going to set up out there to catch your expression when the host arrives,” the cameraman said, pointing to the stoop, “and here to see hers when you greet her.” He set his marks and the lighting guys set their professional light panels.

“Then, I’d suggest you lead her into your kitchen and introduce her to your big Italian family.”

Oh
shit.
“You want the whole family here?”

“Well, yeah. That’s what the producers were expecting.”

“I thought it was usually just a roommate or friend…”

“Nope. They want the whole shebang. Let me see the kitchen.” He strode into the kitchen without Bliss showing him the way.

“Um… Would you like some coffee?” Mrs. Russo offered.

“No. Just checking out how many people you can get around the table. Maybe you can whip up a big Italian meal and invite the host to sit down with you. She’ll take a bite, tell you how good it is, then talk about Bliss’s childhood and…”

“My childhood! Oh, my freakin’ God. Don’t you mean the greeting card company my sister started and how I took it over, and… and…”

“Naw. The viewers know all that. They want to get to know the finalists the way their family and friends know them.”

“Oh, how exciting! I’ll call your brothers right now… oh, and we’ll need to use the dining room. I’ll set it with the nice tablecloth and our wedding china…”

Bliss dropped her head into her hands. “Calgon, take me away.”

The cameraman snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah. Do you have a makeup person coming?”

“No. I usually do my own makeup.”

“Yeah, but you learned how to do it for the camera. Your family didn’t.”

“I didn’t expect this big Italian family dinner.”

“Do you want the producers to find someone to help? It’s kind of last minute. I thought you got all this info beforehand.”

Bliss sighed. “Maybe I did. Maybe it was in my apartment that burned down a month ago, or maybe it was in the pile of mail I didn’t get to open Friday night, because
that
building burned down too.”

The cameraman stared at her wide-eyed. “Jesus. Are you cursed or some kind of firebug?”

Bliss’s mother quickly crossed herself. “Bite your tongue. It has nothing to do with either of those things. It was just bad luck… or maybe good luck since the firefighter who saved her life is now her boyfriend.”

“Seriously?” The cameraman grinned. “Fantastic! That’s a great angle. Can you get him over here too?”

Oh, dear God. Please don’t make me put Drake through this.

Mrs. Russo clapped her hands. “Oh, yes! Bliss, invite Drake.”

Bliss wanted to hang herself. Instead, she saw an opportunity to escape some of the sibling teasing she knew would be in store for her. She rested a hand on her hip. “Tell you what. I’ll call him if I don’t have to invite my brothers, but there are no guarantees Drake will be free.”

“I’ll call the producers,” he said. “You just get that boyfriend of yours to come.”

Bliss smirked.
I
wish
I
could
take
that
another
way.

***

Drake was sitting in the EAP’s office when his phone rang. He grabbed it and glanced at the screen.
Bliss.

“Sorry, I’ve got to take this.”

The gentleman nodded.

Drake strode to the waiting room before he answered. “Bliss? What’s up?”

“I—uh. I was wondering if you’re free… now.”

Drake glanced back at the inner office. He’d tried to convince the EAP he was not in need of an appointment and the chief had overreacted, but he wasn’t off the hook yet.

“I should be free in a few. Why?”

“The show’s producers really want you here when they interview me.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because it’s some kind of great angle for the TV show—me dating the firefighter who saved my life. They just love this human-interest shit.”

Drake chuckled. “So, what you’re saying is, I get fifteen minutes of fame and you have a better chance of winning the competition.”

“Exactly.”

Hmmm… that might be a great way to remind the chief that I’m doing my job and doing it well… not trying to kill myself and take as many guys with me as
I can.

“Sure. I should be there in about an hour.”

“Thanks. I love you for that.”

“Only that?”

Bliss whispered, “I’d tell you all the other great stuff I love about you, but I’m not alone.”

Drake heard her mother’s voice. “I knew it! They’re in love.”

“Mom! Get off the damn phone.”

One hearty giggle later, Drake heard a click.

Bliss let out an audible sigh. “Jesus, Drake, I’m sorry about that. If you want to skip it, I’ll understand. I’m afraid she might try to measure you for a tux.”

He chuckled. “Let her. You never know… See you in an hour.”

Drake hung up and marched into the EAP’s office.

“I’m not suicidal. I don’t need to talk to anyone, and I’ve got a girlfriend who needs me at the moment. I’m out of here.”

***

Bliss hung up the phone with myriad emotions swirling through her. What should she do first? Give her mother hell for picking up the other phone and listening in? Chastise herself for letting it happen? Or contemplate what Drake meant when he said, “You never know…”?

Bliss chose to contemplate, and a tiny smile spread across her face as she did. If she were twelve, she’d be writing Mrs. Drake Cameron in a notebook. Fortunately she was an adult now and knew it was too soon. She simply gave herself a mental high five and opened her mind to the future possibility.

“I’m sorry I overheard your conversation, Bliss,” her mother said sheepishly as she entered the upstairs master bedroom.

“No you’re not.”

Her mom grinned. “You’re right. I’m not.” She strode over to her daughter and enveloped her in a warm hug. “I’m happy for you.”

If
anyone
would
be
happy
for
me, it’s my mother.

Bliss hugged her back. “Thanks, Mom, but please don’t get carried away.”

“I’d be offended by that, but you’re right. I’m afraid I’ve jumped the gun in the past, and maybe that’s what put you off marriage.”

Gee, ya think?
“Mom, I know you just want me to be happy, but I’m afraid your enthusiasm could scare away any potential future I might have with a guy.”

“Not if it’s the
right
guy.” Her mother’s smile returned.

Bliss had to think about that. How easy would it have been for Drake to walk away when Zina started causing trouble? She didn’t think he was protecting her out of a sense of duty. Well,
not
only
for that reason. He was a good man with an ethical code, and he wouldn’t say he loved her if he didn’t mean it.

Bliss was just about to forgive her mother for years of pushiness when Mrs. Russo said, “Now, aren’t you glad that old building burned down?”

What? Is she kidding? Oh, for the love of…
“Sheesh. I wouldn’t go that far, Mom. A lot of people lost everything they owned. Myself included.”

Her mother looped an arm around Bliss’s waist. “Oh, but look what you gained.”

Bliss let out a long sigh. Her mom was her mom, and trying to change her would be an exercise in frustration.

***

The director, Bliss, and Malinda sat at the kitchen table, waiting for the host to show up. “So, tell us what Bliss was like as a child.”

Bliss cringed but knew Malinda Russo could talk about her children all afternoon. Hopefully, this dry run would help guide her mother so she’d know what to say before they filmed it. Of course, if the director thought something was particularly cute or funny, he might ask her to repeat it for the camera. Bliss crossed her fingers under the table.

Malinda smiled sweetly and sighed. “My youngest was the perfect child. So kind and selfless. Always helping around the house…”

To say Bliss was stunned was an understatement.
Who
is
her
mother
talking
about? I am her youngest… at least I thought I was. So why isn’t she telling the world what a hellion I was and how I gave her three-quarters of her gray hairs… like she usually does.

The doorbell rang at that moment, and Bliss practically jumped out of her chair. “That must be Drake. I’ll get it.”

Malinda followed her. “Or it could be your brothers…”

Bliss stopped in her tracks and whirled on her mother. “Are you kidding me? I thought the deal was if I called Drake, you
wouldn’t
call Emilio and Ricky, and since when do they knock?”

Malinda pointed to the director. “Well, this nice man here said I should. I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten your name.”

He rose and buttoned his suit jacket. “Boguchwal Mickolajczyk.”

“Hmmm… I may forget again. Do you have a nickname?”

He smiled indulgently. “Yes. You can call me Bo.”

Malinda followed Bliss to the door, mumbling something about long, difficult Polish names. Bliss almost said something about long Italian names, but Malinda wouldn’t equate the two—ever. Bliss made sure she reached the door first and opened it, only to have her brothers push past her.

Ricky ruffled her hair. “Hey, squirt.”

“Christ, Ricky! Do you know how long it took me to do my hair and makeup today?”

Emilio snorted. “Oh, that’s right. You’re a big movie star now, huh?”

“Oh, for frig’s sake, it’s TV and you know it. Ma, did you
have
to
invite them?”

Malinda threw her hands in the air. “As I said before, your producer told me to. I’m just trying to cooperate… like you asked.”

Bliss almost swallowed her tongue when she realized the cameras were rolling. That must be why the guys rang the bell. To warn the cameraman to start rolling.

The boys made a beeline for the kitchen.

Ricky said, “I smell Ma’s chicken parmigiano-reggiano.”

“Don’t you touch that,” Malinda called out as she followed her sons. “I want it to look perfect on television.”

Bliss rolled her eyes.
Like
her
dinner
is
going
to
be
the
center
of
attention.
Though she had to admit, it usually was.

She looked directly at the cameraman. “Can you possibly roll that back and erase it?”

He smiled and kept filming. “You know I can’t. If Bo wants to edit it out, he will.”

She blew the bangs out of her eyes, then strolled to the mirror to check how badly Ricky had ruined her hair.

The door opened and a cameraman poked his head in. “Judith is here, Bliss. It’s showtime.” He closed the door again and the second cameraman focused on the front door, ready to capture the big moment.

Butterflies used to invade her stomach in the beginning of filming the show, but Bliss thought she had gotten used to it. Apparently that wasn’t true, because moths were flapping around in there now.

The doorbell rang and Bliss quickly finger-combed her hair into place. She tried to look natural as she strode to the door and opened it.

“Hi, Judith,” she tried to say enthusiastically upon seeing the tall blond who had cruelly trashed someone’s work in every episode.

To her shock, Judith kissed her on both cheeks.

“Bliss! How marvelous to see you again. I can’t wait to hear all about your hard work over the last six weeks. I understand it was even more difficult because of some unusual circumstances.”