Rejoice
position ahead of him.
    The chief was explaining the details, how the position was at the smallest station in the department, how the brass had taken into consideration Landon’s years of service in Bloomington. “You’ll have the worst shifts at first, all nights and weekends. The most dangerous time to fight fires.”
    “Yes, sir.” Landon’s heart rate still hadn’t returned to normal, and he felt buoyant, as if he were floating, four—maybe five—feet off the ground. “The shifts won’t be a problem.”
    The man broke into a full smile. “I didn’t think so.”
    “You should know, Blake.” Captain Dillon grinned at him. “At first I told them they couldn’t have you.” He shifted his gaze to the battalion chief. “But then I heard the rest of their plans.”
    The rest of their plans? Landon couldn’t swallow, couldn’t think of anything to say. They had plans for him that went beyond making him captain? The offer was amazing, the kind of promotion a firefighter only dreamed about. But just when he was about to get the rest of the information from the battalion chief, a thought flashed across the core of his soul.
    Was that really what he wanted? A promotion? A higher rank in the FDNY? Didn’t he want to be in Bloomington with Ashley and Cole?
    “That brings us to the other reason we’re meeting today.” The battalion chief tapped the file in front of him. “We have plans for you, Blake. You’re the type of man this department needs, the type we want to build our future around.”
    Their future? The future of the FDNY?
    Landon felt as if he had a mouth full of cotton balls. He ran his tongue along the inside of his lips. “Yes, sir.” He hesitated. “You’re serious, sir?”
    “Yes, Blake.” Captain Dillon spread his hands out in front of him. “This is the first phase of a plan to groom you, my boy.”
    One of the other men leaned back in his chair. “For the top position, Blake. That’s what we’re talking about. A plan to make you chief of the department.”
    Landon gripped his knees and tried to keep from swaying. The words were coming at him from everyone around the table now, but he couldn’t make sense of any of them. They had a plan to make him chief? fire chief of the entire FDNY?
    Captain Dillon was explaining that Landon wasn’t the only one chosen for advancement. “Every five years or so, the brass get together and identify the firefighters who most demonstrate what we’re looking for in department leaders.” He lifted his coffee mug and took a swig. “Not everyone will make it, obviously. But everyone at this table thinks you have an incredible chance.”
    The battalion chief pushed himself back a few inches and crossed one leg over the other. He tried to contain a smile. “We’re fairly sure of your answer; otherwise we wouldn’t have asked. But before we begin training you, grooming you for something bigger down the road, you need to be sure it’s what you want.”
    The question was only a technicality. Landon had given his superiors no reason to believe he wasn’t enamored with his position in the FDNY. He wouldn’t be working here if he didn’t love it, right? He managed a tinny laugh. “Of course. Yes, sir.”
    “What we mean is, take your time and think it over.” The battalion chief gave a firm nod in Landon’s direction. “It’s a lot to take in at once, Blake. The promotion to captain, the plans for your future in the department.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’d be committing your future to this city, to the people of Manhattan.”
    “Right, sir.” Landon’s mouth was operating separately from his heart and soul. Committing his future to the city of New York? He gulped and kept his eyes on the battalion chief. “When . . . when do you need to know?”
    “By Friday.” Captain Dillon looked at the faces around the table. “That should be enough time, wouldn’t you say, gentlemen?”
    Agreement came from each of them. Yes, no doubt,

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