Just This Night by Mari Madison Page B

swallowed hard, pretty sure my already sunburned skin was now a disturbing shade of purple. “No,” I stammered. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
    Mac nodded, putting the truck in gear without another word, guiding it back onto the narrow beach road that led out of my neighborhood and onto the freeway. As he drove, I stared out the front windshield, feeling hot and stupid. Not to mention humiliated beyond belief. Why had I snapped at him like that? I was supposed to be trying to make things less awkward. Instead, I’d somehow managed to create a hostile work environment our first five minutes on the job. What if he went back and said something to Richard? What if he asked for another partner? What if Richard took that as a sign I wasn’t ready for the new gig after all?
    What if I let my hurt feelings over a stupid one-night stand end my entire career?
    â€œI’m sorry,” I said, turning back to Mac. He was staring out the front window, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckled fingers. “I’m a bit . . . flustered right now. I just got promoted and this is my first breaking news assignment. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
    He gave a small nod, so slight I could scarcely recognize it. I waited for him to say something, but he remained silent. I squirmed in my seat. I had to make this right somehow. Or we’d be living through hell each and every workday.
    â€œLook, can we somehow start over?” I blurted out. “I mean, I know the situation is beyond awkward. Trust me, if I had any idea who you were in that club, I would have never,ever . . . well, you know.” I wrung my hands in my lap. “But it happened. It happened and there’s no way to take it back. And now we’re stuck together, whether we like it or not.”
    Mac grunted, giving me the distinct impression he was in the “not” camp.
    I sighed. “As far as I can see it, we have two choices. We can continue to fight and make each other miserable for the foreseeable future. Or we can suck it up and move forward and do our jobs like professionals. I don’t know about you, but this job is a really big deal to me. And I’m not about to let something this stupid screw up everything I’ve worked for my entire life.”
    I paused, the silence stretching out between us. For a moment I thought he wouldn’t answer. But finally, he cleared his throat. “I need this job, too,” he said, his voice gruff.
    Relief flooded my insides. “Great,” I said. “Okay. Then we’re in agreement. We’re moving on. From this point forward, this car will be a magically awkward-free zone!” I forced a grin, waving my hands in the air in emphasis, as if casting a spell. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw his mouth twitch, but I couldn’t be sure.
    I sighed. Spell or not, this was going to take some work.
    I reached toward the dashboard, turning up the police scanner. Then I grabbed my reporter notepad and started to take notes. We wouldn’t have a ton of time once we got to the fire and I wanted to have some questions ready for the potential interviewees. As a bonus, I hoped it would serve as a distraction from Mac’s flashing blue eyes.
    But
that
, I soon realized, was going to take a
lot
more magic.
    *   *   *
    T hough most tourists probably considered San Diego a tropical oasis, to the east of the city stretched miles and miles of desert. Each year the lack of rain would turn the area into a powder keg for brushfires. And when the winds picked up, those fires could decimate entire towns.
    I peered out the window as we pulled up alongside theblaze, pinpointing the displaced family, standing a little ways away, watching the ravenous flames make a quick meal of their home. A toddler, wearing sooty-footed pajamas, sat on the curb, innocently playing with a stuffed bear. A young mother held a