He picked up the phone to call her, only to be interrupted. Briana buzzed him on the intercom to let him know that the building superintendent was here to see him.

“Bert,” he said, rising and extending his hand. “How’s it going?”

“Not too bad. I’ve done the postincident property inspection and we’re in pretty good shape.” Bert glanced down at his printed checklist. “The vibrating caused a short in the elevator, that’s why it stuck. The fire crew didn’t do much damage when they got you out, but the elevator company’s coming to fix the door-closure arms and reset the circuitry. They should be through by noon.”

Patrick nodded. “That’s good then. No other damage?”

“No,” Bert said. “City hall’s solidly built, no question. But we should consider seismic upgrades to the suspended ceiling and light fixtures on all floors. If we do it floor by floor, we can minimize the disruption.”

“That’s a good idea, Bert. Put together a report and include a budget. Let’s see what we can do. I have to be honest, though. We’ve got more urgent expense items for Courage Bay ’s already overstretched budget. We’re probably looking at next year.”

Bert didn’t seem surprised. “I’ll put together the report anyway.”

Once he left, Briana brought in more message slips. Reporters from the Sentinel and the local TV and radio stations had called. They’d want to know about his stint in the trapped elevator, no doubt, and also, he suspected, how the municipal government was planning to support Courage Bay. He blew out a breath, dragged off his suit jacket, loosened the tie he’d put on not an hour ago, and picked up the phone. Before he had a chance to do more than hit the first number, his intercom buzzed. “Yeah.”

“It’s Dan Egan on the phone,” she said. “He wants to see you today.”

Who didn’t? He respected and liked the fire chief, but right now he didn’t have time for a diatribe. “Look, Briana, I know he’s shorthanded and I’m about to start calling an emergency council meeting. I’ll let him know the minute-”

“I don’t think he’s calling about funding,” she said, her voice sounding concerned even over the intercom. “He says it’s important, and he must know you of all people are aware of his staffing shortages.”

If there were two people in the world who wouldn’t waste his time, they were Briana and Dan Egan. If both of them thought he needed this meeting, he’d be there. “Okay. Set it up.”

He flicked through the messages once more. He’d pass the media ones on to Archie Weld and let him deal with them for now.

Then he called his mom to let her know he was fine. He was secretly relieved to hear his dad’s recorded voice telling him to leave a message, which he did, knowing it was a lot quicker than talking to his mother in person.

While he checked his e-mail and made the few calls he needed to return, anger drummed dully behind his eyeballs. Courage Bay ’s emergency services needed a funding boost and he needed council’s approval to give it to them.

Wondering how soon he could set up an emergency council meeting, he picked up his schedule, which sat in its usual place on the edge of his desk. Briana, as he’d known she would, had already rearranged things to give him some time in the office this morning.

His first function was a ribbon-cutting at a seniors’ residence that had been badly damaged during a recent fire.

For a second he contemplated canceling, then paused, as he imagined Briana must have done, and considered the importance of his presence. Patrick wasn’t any Roosevelt or Churchill; he was the mayor of a city of eighty-five thousand. However, he was still a politician and a community leader. He’d always admired men who set an example of integrity and cheer when times were tough.

And times in Courage Bay were tough indeed.

This seniors’ residence was symbolic of the city. It had been hurt, but like the people who lived here, it had come through the bad times. And Patrick needed to be there to help celebrate that fact. Besides, he’d given his word to the organizers that he’d attend, and he didn’t like going back on his word.

Other than that, Briana had managed to clear his calendar. She’d penciled in a couple of suggestions, though. A rescheduled meeting with Max being one of them.

He nodded, even though there was no one in the room to see. One of the many things he liked about Briana was her initiative. She’d become more than an assistant to him in the past couple of months. She was more like a partner, and it bothered him that he was getting credit for a lot of her work.

Even if he didn’t have his own reasons for doing so, he’d be trying to help her move up to a position where she could shine and have a chance to use her talents to their fullest.

“Patrick?”

He glanced up sharply and there she was in the doorway. Her tone was almost hesitant as she stood there, and once more that arc of heat stretched between them when their gazes locked.

“Briana…” His own voice came out husky.

“I…um…” She made a motion to push her hair back behind her ear, obviously forgetting that her hair was tied back. He liked her uncertainty; it made him hope she’d been as deeply affected by last night as he had. She dropped her hand when she realized her hair was already neatly tied behind her head and said, “I scheduled a meeting with Dan Egan for ten-thirty this morning.”

He nodded and watched her walk forward and take his schedule, then write in the meeting and the location. Dan’s office. Good. It would give him a chance to check on Shannon, see how she was doing after last night’s fatal blaze.

Briana passed him his copy of his schedule, and he thought the computer printout trembled slightly in her hands. As he took it from her, he caught a faint whiff of lavender.

“About your ribbon-cutting at noon,” she began.

“You were absolutely right to leave it scheduled. I’m damn sick and tired of putting off celebration in this town. Besides, I said I’d go and I stick to my word.”

She blinked at him and he grinned. “Sorry, I probably sound like my dad, but he always taught us never to lie, and never to go back on our word. I try to follow those rules.”

There was a crease between her brows as though she didn’t believe him. Or maybe she was worrying about him making both the meeting and the ribbon-cutting when things were so crazy.

“I believe in telling the truth, too,” she said softly. “But sometimes people can make mistakes. I think if a person does that, they should speak up and rectify the situation, don’t you?” Her eyes burned with a significance he couldn’t interpret.

He nodded, wondering what she was getting at.

“If a person’s hurt another person, they should admit that, even if it’s difficult at the time,” she elaborated.

She wasn’t speaking rhetorically here. He felt quite sure she was sending him a message.

Suddenly he felt as though the building might be experiencing another aftershock. The world didn’t seem stable beneath his feet.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked urgently. He’d been so eager last night, so lost in lust and, frankly, so out of practice that maybe he’d done something to hurt her. If so, he’d never forgive himself.

Her cheeks flamed. “No. Of course you didn’t hurt me.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Forget I spoke. I was speaking in general terms.” She pulled away from the desk and would have moved on to the next item of business, of which he knew there was plenty, but he stopped her.

“Briana, we can’t pretend nothing happened last night. I think we should talk about it.”

Amusement flickered across her face and caused her eyes to twinkle. “We should talk about it is supposed to be the woman’s line.”

“Well, based on the way you’ve reverted to all business, I’m guessing I’d wait a long time for you to open the subject.”

She huffed out a breath and he saw for a moment the vulnerability and sadness behind the external efficiency.