using a company without the right credentials.”
That statement gained his attention as he turned his widened eyes to her. “Oh, my… I never thought of that.” His chest deflated as air rushed out. He stared down at the remains of his almost-complete seafood platter and said, “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
Seeing little food left on his plate, she fought the snort that threatened to erupt. “I just think that if you’re ultimately in charge of the whole project, then perhaps you and Dave should review all the contractors. That way, you’ll be able to assure that all is perfectly well at Partridge Tower.”
Declining his offer of dessert, she went to the powder room while he paid. Coming back to the table she came up behind him and overheard him say, “We need to meet. I don’t want anything to get in the way of this project.”
Smiling that he was taking her advice, she stepped closer and reached out her hand as soon as he had disconnected his call. “Thank you so much for lunch, Anthony. It was lovely.”
He stood, wrapped his hand around hers, and gently tugged her forward. Recognizing the maneuver to gain a kiss instead of a handshake, she pulled her hand back and bent to gather her jacket.
“Yes… well, um… perhaps we can do this again,” he rushed.
“As a working lunch, yes, I’m sure we can.”
His smile widened, and she wondered if he was capable of taking a subtle hint. As he walked out with her, he stopped when he recognized someone entering the restaurant and turned to greet them. “I’ll say goodbye now,” she called out, ignoring his expression of frustration and hurrying toward her SUV. Waving, she hopped into her vehicle and blew out a sigh of relief, glad to be heading back to her office.
Rory was on the tail end of a long span of three days of twelve-hour shifts. Sandy and he had texted when they could, had snatches of phone calls, and tonight they planned on dinner at her place. He was more than willing to take her out, but she insisted she loved to cook and never had anyone to cook for.
Heading out to his truck, he placed a quick call. “Blay? You on duty? I had a couple of questions for you.”
“Just got off and headed to the Cock. You want to join me?”
“Yeah, I’ll swing by.”
It didn’t take long for him to pass under the bar’s sign and enter, quickly finding Blay with several other firemen having a beer. Greeting everyone, he and Blay maneuvered to the side of the group.
“What’s up?”
“Do you remember what Sandy was talking about the other night we were here? She was asking Bekki and Harper about Perkins Electrical.” Gaining Blay’s nod, he continued. “I got to thinking about the possibility of electrical fires in a building as massive as Partridge Tower. When I was volunteering for the fire department, we never had one of those. I just wondered what you can tell me.”
“Most electrical fires come from short-circuits, overheating ground faults, or arcing. That generally ignites the insulation that’s nearby the wires. They can also travel along the wires, causing rapid spreading.” Blay held his gaze, cocking his head to the side. “Is that what you’re looking for?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I know Sandy’s worried, and I was just trying to find out how serious faulty wiring in a multistory building can be.”
“Fuckin’ serious. I know there’s been a lot of studies done, but to be honest, I haven’t kept up with those outside our continued educational training. Generally, our professional development focuses on what our response is to the different fires, not what causes them. I know there’s something called flame–spread phenomena over wires that’s different from just the ignition. Wish I could tell you more, but that’s all I remember.”
“No, no, man, that’s good. I can let Sandy know she’s on the right track to make sure the wiring in the building is done to code.”
Blay rubbed his chin, shaking his head. “There should be someone from the city, an inspector that comes around and checks that shit. I know that there are different codes for buildings that are over seventy-five feet tall, which I’m sure includes Partridge Tower.”
“Yeah. I’ll let her know that as well.”
“So, are you going to join us for a beer? Or do you have somewhere better to be?”
Catching Blay’s grin, he bragged, “I’ve got a home-cooked meal waiting for me at Sandy’s place.”
“Good for you.