“Awesome, I’m stealing some.” I watch as she writes a note on the back of a receipt, slipping it into my till, and then pours a solid eight ounces into a tall water glass.
“Rough day in the kitchen?” I ask, eyeing the bourbon.
“Yes!” she laughs. “But this is for the barbecue sauce. The one I have back there is bland.” I didn’t know bourbon could really classify as bland, but I’ll take her word for it. “You sure you’re okay?” She asks me again, really scrutinizing my face this time.
“No? Yes? I just ran into my professor out on the patio and spilled beer everywhere, like a moron.”
“Small world.” She comments, craning her neck to get a look at Dr. Napier sitting alone on the patio before wiggling her eyebrows at me. “Someone has you all hot and bothered.”
“No,” I lie. “Just surprised me, that’s all.”
“Okay.” She says the word, but clearly doesn’t believe me. “I’m Nora. Let me know if you want me to whip up something special for your professor. Oysters, figs, maybe something with a little honey…”
She grins at me and turns back to the kitchen, leaving me sputtering. I glance out toward the patio again. Dr. Napier is watching me, no doubt wondering if I’m ever coming back with his beer. Our eyes meet and my heart spins out of control. Dammit.
I can’t make it stop, this out-of-control excitement that spirals out through my body. Every step I take toward him makes it worse. There’s an invisible fist around my throat as I set his beer on the table. “I’m so sorry for the wait. The chef had a bourbon emergency. But your drink is on me.”
Dr. Napier gives me a rare but genuine smile. “That’s not necessary, Ms. Palomer. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.” There’s a little spark in his eye, one that makes my knees turn to jello and reminds me that he’s just trouble all over.
“It’s all good. They encourage us to comp guests when we fu—mess up an order. And I think smashing your drink at your feet qualifies.” I glance at the bar. My shift ended an hour ago, but I stayed late to help Savannah prep for the evening shift. She’s leaning against the counter behind the bar, straightening bottles out of boredom.
“How long is your vacation?” I try to force my voice into a relaxed tone, but that hand on my neck just squeezes tighter and tighter until I can barely breathe.
“Oh, I’m actually working.” His smile falls just a fraction of an inch. “The university approved my grant to study the lake.” He jerks his head toward the glittering blue body of water in the distance.
“What about it?” I ask breathlessly. I know it’s spring-fed, but hadn’t had time to do any other sleuthing.
His eyes light up as he pushes his beer aside, talking with his hands like he does in his lectures. “The water levels rise and fall completely independent of local rainfall. It’s spring-fed, so some anomaly can be attributed to that, but—”
“You think there’s a fissure?” I interrupt. I almost apologize for cutting him off, but the smile that spreads across his face makes words impossible.
“I think there’s a fissure,” Dr. Napier nods. “A small one,” he adds. “But there has to be a reason for the rising and falling. It’s completely sporadic.”
“Could be a silt deposit,” I postulate, tapping my lips with my finger. He watches me, hazel eyes agreeing as he nods along. “Pending soil conditions, and—”
A throat clears behind me and I jump. I’m sitting in the chair next to my professor, but I don’t remember when I did that. Executive Chef, Nora Pritchett, stands behind my shoulder, and my heart sinks as I realize how inappropriate this looks. How inappropriate this is.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I got carried away.” I quickly get to my feet, but the chef waves a hand at me, not moving from behind my chair. I’m pinned in by the armrests, a fact that I’m pretty sure she’s aware of if the sly smile on her face is anything to go by.
“Why are you apologizing? A little birdie said you already stayed late to help her prep the dinner shift. You’ve earned a break, so I had her clock you out. Have a good night.” I stare at her as she sets a large white platter on the table. “Complimentary appetizers from the kitchen.”
Dr. Napier looks down at the plate, and Nora winks at me with a knowing grin before turning on her heel and striding back toward the kitchen. “Oh… that was really… nice,” Dr. Napier’s voice sounds off and when I look at the platter, I know why.
Artistically arranged ‘appetizers’ are arranged in a beautiful spread. But the idea that this would be hand-delivered for free, by the executive chef herself, is laughable. Especially when I realize that the food cost on this plate has to be more than I made in tips today. Oysters on the half shell. Fresh figs drizzled in honey and flecked with edible gold leaf. Cured meats and expensive-looking cheeses. Osetra caviar and fresh sliced baguette.
Nora is either pure evil or a fairy godmother. I’m just not sure which.
“I can’t eat all of this,” Dr. Napier says, shaking his head with a bemused expression. Everything is laid out in sets of two and four, blatantly meant to be shared. His eyes lift to mine and there’s something about the way he looks at me that makes my chest ache. “You’re going to have to help.”
Oh, God help me. I want to. I want him to keep looking at me like that, and even if it will wreck me later, I can’t physically force myself to walk away. So, I sit.
I sit down, knowing full well it is a terrible idea. Knowing that he has no clue what he does to me, or that he holds my heart in the palm of his perfect hand. I scoot my chair in and untie the little apron from my waist, tucking it next to my thigh.
He watches me. Not in a weird way, just an ‘Oh, hey. There’s my student at her job. Neato,’ kind of way. Casual as all fuck. Not that Dr. Napier would ever say ‘neato’. If anything, he’d make a mineral joke.
“Sediment deposit?” I ask, steering the conversation back to relative safety.
Dr. Napier lights up again. “That’s the theory. It’s possible that the sediment builds up due to heavy rain, forming a tenuous sort of plug, but once the lake hits a high point, the pressure would be enough to flush the sediment, allowing a significant amount of water to drain over the course of several months until enough sediment plugs the hole again, or the fissure fills to a point of equilibrium.”