“I’d rather tell our grandchildren about how I met their grandma.” Seth is too smooth to be hurt badly.
I laugh, as does the doctor. She tapes up the wrapping. “Come see me in three days. Keep the bandages clean, and call sooner if there’s puss or too much swelling.” She gives him a smile as she steps out of the cubicle.
Standing beside the bed, I don’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”
He grips my arm. “It’s not your fault. That new kid put a towel too close to the stove. I was just telling him to move it, and the thing caught fire. It went up so fast, I’m guessing there was alcohol or grease on it. It could have been much worse.”
“Jenn says you saved my bacon.” How do you thank someone for that?
“I did what you would have done, boss. We’re chefs. Fires happen. I was just lucky the catering cloche was nearby. I smothered it with that. It would have been nothing if that towel hadn’t had some kind of accelerant on it.” He points to his burned arm. “It’s nothing, and I got that doctor’s number, so it might turn out to have been worth it.”
I shake my head. “Leave it to you to find a hot MD to make getting burned into a good thing.”
A nurse comes in with instructions for care and discharge papers to be signed.
I’ll pay whatever our insurance doesn’t cover. “We need to have a kitchen safety instruction day.”
Seth nods, and we walk out to the van.
“I’ll drive you home.”
He shakes his head. “No. I need to check on my kitchen.”
“You sure? You’ve had kind of a traumatic day. I think you deserve the afternoon and a few more days off, buddy.” I start the van and head toward the highway.
“I’m fine. I may feel worse tomorrow and need a day, but it’s not the first time I’ve been burned in the kitchen.”
I head to the restaurant. As a chef, I’ve had my fair share of burns too. Still, I’m going to keep a close eye on Seth while we inspect the damage.
Seven
GRACE
Lunch service is delivered by two twenty-year-old girls who work for a different caterer. They have no idea why Landon isn’t there. All they know is they are handling lunch and dinner today.
There’s no way he would go to these lengths just to avoid me.Why are you thinking this way, Grace?
It’s late in the afternoon when I get a text from Landon.
Landon:Hey, we had a small fire at the restaurant. I won’t be around tonight.
Sorry.
Me:Was anyone hurt?
Landon:My chef has second-degree burns on one arm, but he’s alright.
Me:Can I help?
He doesn’t respond before I have to get back behind my camera. My gut is in knots the rest of the day. I’m not ready for this thing between us to be over. I figured we had until the shoot was over, and then life would likely get in the way, but it looks as if life had a shorter plan.
Glad no one was seriously hurt, I push all things Landon aside and focus on the work. It’s never let me down.
When I finish up for the night, I check my phone.
Landon:I wish you could, baby. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
Clear that he doesn’t want or need my help, I head home. Somehow my apartment seems smaller and dingier than it ever has. I long for wine on Landon’s patio and a naked swim in the pool.