Okay, this was it. He needed to get dressed and go into the office, and fuck any feelings of humiliation left over from what had happened last week. He had shit to do, and he wasn’t going to let a bunch of juvenile douche bags or his dumbass self-esteem issues stop him.
I’m a work in progress.
He pulled his last unworn Tom Ford suit out from the back of his closet. Because he needed that kind of protection today, plus the boost it gave him knowing he looked as good as he could. At least wardrobe-wise. Dalton would li—
Shut up.
Studying himself in the mirror after he shaved, it hit him how good he looked, period. Not, like, attractive exactly, but healthy. His skin didn’t have that dull tinge of gray anymore, and his eyes were so clear. The whites really were white. Well whaddaya know?
So maybe he was a successful work in progress?
At the office, Gina smiled when he walked in, and didn’t comment on him being a half hour late.
“How was the meeting Friday?” she asked instead.
“Ugh.”
She frowned sympathetically. “That bad?”
“Yeah. But I survived it.” Shrugging as he passed her, he got settled in and had even turned on his desktop before someone else bugged him.
“How did the meeting go?”
Christ, again? It was Chase, standing in the doorway of his office, half-scowling at him.
He leaned back in his chair, propping his hands behind his head, and considered throwing his feet up on the desk before answering. “Fine.” Looked like knowing Chase had done him a solid didn’t change their relationship dynamic at all. Sweet. Tierney’s smile grew in proportion to his brother’s glare.
“‘Fine’? That’s it?”
“Yup.” What the hell. He propped his heels on the edge of his computer cart.
Chase was grinding his teeth now. “You don’t have any information for me?”
Uh-oh. Tierney pulled up his shit-eating grin. “And what information would that be?”
Hopefully Chase would tell him instead of stomping off, because Tierney didn’t want to spend half his day trying to remember why he’d gone to that fucking torture fest. He had other stuff to tackle today. Like trying to figure out what to do about Dalton.
“Do we need to start prepping a bid for Diablo’s service area or not?” Chase nearly yelled.
Oh, that. Tierney dropped his attitude and feet, resting his elbows on his desk. “I don’t know yet. I can’t tell if they’re open to other bidders or if they’ll just hand it to American again and it’s not worth the effort.”
“Fuck.” Chase whacked the doorjamb with his palm. “We’ve got to know soon and start investigating other options if they’re out. Since Marlyle is a no-go, thanks to you.”
For a second there, Tierney had been willing to play nice with his brother, since the future of the family business was at stake, but the douche bag just had to bring up Marlyle County, didn’t he?
“Don’t worry,” Tierney snapped, picking up the handset for his office phone. “I’ll find out today. Someone owes me.” He spun around in his chair, glaring out his window at the wondrous view of the parking lot. And his stupid, pretentious car.
Chase left without taking any parting shots. He’d won that round, after all. In a way, it had helped—now Tierney could call Jerry in the proper, pissed-off frame of mind instead of mooning over Dalton.
“Who may I say is calling?” the Diablo County Fire secretary asked after he requested Chief Brown’s extension.
“Chase Terrebonne.”
A click and a few seconds of hold music later, Jerry answered. “Hey, Chase.”
“I lied. It’s Tierney.”
“Shit,” Jerry said under his breath.
“Yeah. I’m calling so you can tell me what I missed in that meeting Friday. I was a little distracted, not really paying attention. You know that meeting, Jerry? The one where that asshole from the hospital was texting trash about me to everyone?”
“How’d you know what he was saying?”
“C’mon, dude. I’ve been doing the same shit for years. I know douche bags.”
Jerry grumbled, then sighed. “Sorry.”
“Oh, that was heartfelt. Thanks.”
“T, you know how it goes. We were just messing around.”
“Sniping about me being gay?”
Jerry had what sounded like a coughing fit, a nice long one. “Jesus,” he croaked, then gulped some water or something. “I’ve never heard you just say it like that, I mean, other than at the wake.”
“Gay gay gay gay gay gay gay ga—”
“I get it already. I’ve just never known anyone like . . . that.”
“Hello! You’ve known me a dozen years, dumbass. And you know Ian Cully.”
“Yeah but he’s— Fuck, this is confusing.”
“No, it’s not, Jerry.” But the dude was going to have to work out his acceptance level on his own. Tierney’d done his part. “So tell me what that dick said about me.”
“I thought you called to get the lowdown on that meeting. And don’t you want to find out if Diablo would look at a bid from another ambulance company?” Jerry sounded like a frantic mouse.
“You can tell me that after you tell me what was flying around that room.”
Jerry groaned. “Man, don’t make me do it. Some of it was kinda over the line.”
Mother. Fucker. “Changed my mind,” Tierney snapped. “Now cough up what you’ve heard about the ambulance contract.”
He barely caught Jerry’s sigh of relief. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing: none of the cooperating agencies are happy with American.”
“What about the county commissioners?”
It took a while, but using the fine scalpel of guilt, Tierney got Jerry to give up a whole lot of insider information on the situation in Diablo, with the bonus of hearing Jerry’s (more) sincerely awkward apology at the end of the call. Tierney accepted it with a hint of condescension. Hey, he was a work in progress. By the time he hung up, his mood was buoyed by remembering what made him good at his job. He had people skills. Manipulating people skills.
In retrospect, sitting in front of his office window, studying his car out in the company lot, it didn’t sound like such a laudable talent. Since he’d managed to make one major alteration in his life, he could do some more remodeling if necessary, right? Sure, the way he’d gone about the first change had caused the most possible humiliation, but he’d managed something douche bags like Dalton’s exes were too terrified to do. Not that Tierney hadn’t been terrified, but he’d lived through it, hadn’t he?