In the Fire

by Eileen Griffin

  I fought back my anger and forced a smile as Trevor approached. I shook Tim’s hand, ignored my “friend” and tried to hold on to what little patience I had left.

  “Thanks for the extra exposure for the charity gala, and for having me on the show today, Tim. I left some signed books in the break room for the crew. Let me know if you need more and I’ll have them sent over.”

  Trevor stepped forward to go over the last bit of information about air dates and paperwork, leaving me to grab my things. As soon as I turned around I found Trevor standing in the doorway. Without a word I left the room, our shoulders touching slightly when I passed him. He followed me out of the building and into the cab waiting for us at the curb.

  Neither of us spoke the entire cab ride back to the hotel. As the minutes ticked by, the tension between us grew until it was so palpable, I was certain the cabbie could feel it. Once we were back at the hotel, though, it took all of ten seconds after the doors to the empty elevator closed on us for Trevor to break the tense silence between us.

  “Want to tell me what’s been going on with you these past two days, J?”

  “Trevor, I don’t think you really want to do this now.”

  He turned his body directly to face mine and waved his hand between the two of us. “What don’t I want to do, Jamie? This? Trying to get my best friend to open up to me about whatever the hell happened Wednesday night? Because I gotta tell you, the cold shoulder is starting to piss me off.”

  As the doors opened to our floor, I pushed past him and walked down the hallway to my room. I had just barely swiped my key card and turned the door handle when Trevor pushed open my door and barged into my room. I threw my key card across the room and glared at him.

  “How about you share with me the conversation you had with Ethan at the studio in New York?”

  His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before the calm and collected mask he always wore whenever we were in public slid into place. “I told him what any good friend and manager would tell him. I told him the truth.”

  I narrowed my eyes as dread settled like a ball in my stomach. I took a step toward him, and almost laughed when he nervously stepped back. “And just what did this truth entail?”

  His expression became even more intense as he bit his next words out. “For crying out loud, Jamie. We both know he’s not good for you. He never was, and from what I’ve seen of him recently, nothing has changed.”

  “What the hell did you say, Trevor? I want the truth. After almost nine years, I deserve the goddamn truth from you.”

  Trevor’s lifted his chin, a defiant look in his eye. “I told him it would have been better if he had never come to New York. You’re finally in a good place in your life and don’t need him or his bullshit dragging you down.”

  I went still as my worst fears began to materialize in front of me. “A good place? Have you completely forgotten the conversation we had after my publicity trip? I was so exhausted when I finally got home I could barely see straight. And then, when I finally did come home, I came home to an empty apartment, Trevor. For god’s sake, I haven’t even had a relationship in over a year.”

  His voice rose with anger. “You could have anyone you want. The reason you’re single is because you choose to be.”

  “Don’t you get it? I’m single because I’d rather be alone for the right reasons than with someone for the wrong ones.”

  “And therein lies my point, J. He’s all wrong for you. He broke your heart when we were in Paris and he wants to break you all over again. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see he’s nothing but trouble for both you and your career?”

  I scrubbed my hand through my hair. “Are you serious? Since when did you become my keeper? Who gave you the right to choose who I should and shouldn’t be with?”

  He took a step toward me, never taking his eyes off mine. “I gave myself the job when I saw how much he was hurting you. Can’t you see how screwed up he has you right now? It’s like we’re back in Paris all over again.”

  I put up my hand to stop him from coming any closer. “What happened when we were in Paris, Trevor? Ethan seems to think you told him to leave me alone. No, scratch that. He thinks you told him I wanted him to leave me alone and I didn’t want him anymore.” I paused and searched his face for any confirmation Ethan was lying. Something, anything, to prove Trevor wouldn’t do that to me.

  Instead he stopped and looked at the floor. When he looked back up at me, I could see the truth written all over his face. “You were miserable, Jamie. Every day you would come home from class and if he hadn’t called, you’d be in a funk all evening. If you guys had a fight? You’d be distant and silent for days. What did you expect me to do? Hold my tongue every time he chipped a little more of your happiness away? You deserved better than him. A whole lot better than some alcoholic wannabe chef with anger-management issues who can’t even leave his hometown to better himself or his career.”

  “So, what? You took matters into your own hands? Ethan was telling the truth, wasn’t he? I’m such an idiot. All this time, I trusted you. I confided in you. I thought you were my friend.”

  He closed the distance between us and locked his eyes on mine. “I am your friend. You deserve a partner who understands you. Who would put you and your career first instead of making you feel guilty for not going back to nothing and obscurity. Someone who just wants you to be happy.”

  I snorted. “And who would that be, Trevor? Enlighten me.”

  His body tensed right before he leaned forward and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Me.”

  When I opened my mouth to respond, he closed the last few inches between us and slanted his mouth over mine. Digging his fingers into my shoulders to pull me closer to him, he gently swept his tongue out. He slid his hands up to cup the back of my neck, smoothing his thumbs along my jaw.

  My eyes snapped open, but his were closed. He was lost to whatever emotion he was feeling. A feeling I didn’t and couldn’t share. Instead I just felt sick at the enormity of what had just happened. I gently pushed against his chest. Trevor’s lips stilled against mine, but before he opened his eyes, he sighed, the breath fanning out over my lips.

  He wouldn’t look me in the eye. “It will always be him, won’t it.”

  It wasn’t a question, but a statement that held more meaning than the kiss he had just given me. I nodded slowly when he opened his eyes.

  When Trevor kissed me, I felt nothing. It was like kissing a friend—just a friend.

  “I can’t help who I love, Trevor. And who I don’t.”

  Pain registered in his eyes as he quickly dropped his hands and stepped away from me. The adrenaline I’d felt just moments before was gone. In its place was an overwhelming exhaustion over a clusterfuck I had no idea how to fix.

  I watched as his mask dropped back into place. He stared over my shoulder for a moment before finally meeting my eyes. “You still deserve better than him.”

  Too tired to stand, let alone deal with this anymore, I sat down on the bed and looked up at him. “Maybe. Maybe he’s exactly what I deserve. It’s not your decision, though. It never has been. People have been making decisions for me my whole life. For once I’d like to be asked what I want.”

  He nodded, then moved to the door. “Where does this leave us? Do you even want me to come to the charity event with you this weekend?”

  I sat there and looked at my best friend. However damaged our relationship was now, I wasn’t going to be the one to shut him out completely. It hadn’t worked with Ethan, and it wasn’t going to solve anything now. The only solution was time.

  “I can’t tell you not to come, but this—” I gestured between us, “—is going to take time for me to digest. If you do come with me, the only thing I ask is you leave Ethan alone. Whatever happened between me and him is between us. It’s
for us to navigate our way through, not for you to solve for me.”

  Sadness replaced the anger and hurt in his eyes as he nodded. With his voice barely audible, he whispered, “Sorry, J. I never wanted to hurt you.” Then left, shutting the door loudly behind him.

  I lay on the bed and closed my eyes. Images of Trevor’s kiss overlapped with the hurt I’d seen in Ethan’s eyes on Wednesday night. How had things gotten this twisted?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ethan

  As I stared at the now out of commission kitchen in shock, I felt nausea roll through my stomach. We are so fucked. The kitchen was a disaster, and not because the staff had suddenly decided to cook for an army or have a food fight. The left side of the kitchen, where the grill and fryer stations and stoves were located, was covered in a thin sheen of white powdery fire retardant. The urge to slam my fist into the closest wall overwhelmed me as I stared at my once pristine kitchen that now reeked of chemicals.

  A voice over my shoulder startled me. “This is not how I pictured this morning going.”

  I turned to look at Cal, rubbing my already throbbing temples. “Yeah, me neither. How did the system get tripped? There’s no fire and when I locked up, the restaurant was empty.” The conversation we had just had about cameras in the restaurant and at its doors hung heavy but unspoken between us.

  Cal ran his finger along a countertop and muttered an almost inaudible curse when it came back coated in the foul powder. “I have no idea, Ethan, but this is going to set the restaurant back. Too much has been hitting us all at once. Since we’re not opening for business anytime soon, I’ll be in the office calling for a cleaning crew to come out and clean all this up and recharge our suppression system.”

  “Hey, about that. I saw the notice from the insurance company. I know we’re tight on funds, but we’d be stupid not to upgrade the system right now.”

  “This,” Cal waved his hand around the kitchen, “has taken a dent out of my slush fund. I’m doing what I can, but we need to fix what’s broken first and deal with the extras later.”

  As he started to walk off to his office, I called out, “Hey, Cal. Since the crew is slowly trickling in with nothing to do, how about you let us clean all this crap up? Honestly, I don’t want anyone in this kitchen I don’t know. Too much crap has happened for my comfort level.”

  Cal nodded and turned to walk the rest of the way to his office, his shoulders sagging under the weight we all felt.

  * * *

  The kitchen was a blur of bodies, mop buckets, cleaning supplies and sweat. Everyone who had come in for their shift had the same reaction of confusion and worry. However, every last one of them stripped off their chef jackets and grabbed a sponge when I told them we were going to clean up all of the powdery shit and make the kitchen shine.

  Claire and I took care of wiping down the grill station while Tyler and the new busser Cal had hired started to mop. I didn’t know how it was possible for Craig to be even quieter than Tyler had been when he’d first started, but he had barely uttered a word the entire month he’d been here. He and Tyler hadn’t seemed to hit it off. Maybe it was because Tyler was usually holed up in the kitchen while Craig mostly worked the floor, but it still made me wonder why they weren’t more talkative with each other since they were close in age and seemed to have a lot in common. I couldn’t do anything about it today, but I made a mental note to keep an eye on the busser and ask Claire her impression of him once shit had settled down.

  Surveying the work we had in front of us made me want to scream. We’d been cleaning for over an hour and still there was an endless list of places to scrub. My choice of classic rock stations had long since driven Claire up the wall, so I switched it over to our favorite talk program. Tim Buchannan hosted one of the best shows in the area, discussing everything from trends in the restaurant business, to marketing ideas, to interviews of up-and-coming chefs. I had just moved over to the fryer when I stopped dead in my tracks. Lassiter’s voice drifted through the speakers. Claire shot me a look, cocking her eyebrow up as she tilted her head in the direction of the stereo. Hating myself for wanting to listen to the interview, I focused on the fry basket, my hands going through the motions as Lassiter told Tim about his cookbook.

  “James, what brought you back to Seattle?”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve been home, but my alma mater is hosting a charity gala this weekend and I’m happy to say I get to be a part of helping out a worthy cause.”

  I leaned closer to the nearest speaker to hear better.

  “Do tell. I’m sure our fans out there would love to help out with any worthy cause you’re contributing to.”

  “It’s a fundraiser for the local Chapter of No More Hunger. No one, especially kids, should have to worry about where their next meal is coming from. The Seattle Institute of Culinary Arts is hosting a brunch in the Garden Room this Saturday morning with several guest chefs whipping up their signature dishes, as well as a black-tie gala with a seated dinner, dancing and silent auction. Tickets for the brunch are thirty dollars a person, the gala is one hundred a person, both benefiting an incredibly worthy cause. In addition to No More Hunger, the school will be taking donations for their scholarship program, which helps students who otherwise might not be able to attend the school due to financial or personal hardships.”

  “You’ve been very vocal over the years about winning a scholarship during your junior year at the Institute. Care to share anything about your experience with the listeners?”

  I stopped cleaning completely when Jamie’s audible sigh came over the speakers. I closed my eyes and could almost see him run his hand through his hair, a nervous habit he used to hate.

  “I was extremely fortunate to win a scholarship that allowed me to attend the Institute’s sister school in Paris for a semester. It was an experience I’ll never forget. However, there are plenty of other scholarships the school offers in an effort to help their students take classes without the worry of going into severe debt through personal loans and the lack of adequate funding through financial aid. It was a privilege to get to go to Paris, but I know I would have been just as happy and learned just as much by staying at the school for my senior year.”

  The Jamie over the speakers sounded like the same Jamie I had seen at the TV studio in New York. He was tired, jaded and lacking any kind of enthusiasm for what he was doing, for what we’d both fought so hard for him to have.

  “This silent auction sounds fun. Can you share some of the items the guests can bid on?”

  “I’ve only seen a few of the items, but I know there will be private cooking lessons, incredible weekend getaways at local resorts and baskets put together by local vendors.”

  I leaned against the counter and threw my rag down, straining to hear more of the interview and hating myself for even caring.

  “It’s been great having you on our show, James. You’ll have to make sure to stop by again when you’re back in town for a visit. However, the charity event you’ll be attending this weekend sounds like more than a worthy cause. Good luck with it.”

  “Thanks for having me on the show today, Tim. It will be my last appearance for a while, and it was especially nice to do my last one here in my hometown.”

  My back straightened as my shoulders tensed. What was he talking about? His whole life now consisted of interviews, book signings and television appearances. His website had been littered with dates of where he had been over the last six months. I couldn’t imagine any reason he would willingly give it up.

  “The public will miss seeing you, I’m sure. What are your plans for your upcoming break?”

  “Yes, Lassiter. What new promotional stunt are you planning now?” I muttered under my breath as I picked up the rag to clean the vent hood. I looked around to make sure no one had heard. Maybe he’d take the time off to ban
g another rising chef so he could laugh about it later. I strained to hear Jamie’s reply.

  “I’ve been out of the kitchen for too long and miss it. So I plan to spend the next few months creating new dishes, reminding myself why I went into this business all those years ago.”

  Not wanting to hear another word, I wiped my hands and reached for the remote and changed the station. Sadly, not even the rock music coming through the speakers could cover up the questions running rampant through my head. Once the heavy bass of Rush filled the kitchen, I attacked the hood vent with more vigor.

  I kept my back to the rest of the staff, who were busy cleaning and mopping, not wanting anyone to see the confusion on my face. Was this a publicity stunt dreamed up by Trevor to make Lassiter even more desirable by purposely taking himself out of the limelight for a while? Or was this a decision of Lassiter’s, finally coming to terms with how ragged he had looked every time I had seen him lately?

  I startled when Kyle, one of our better waiters, tapped me on the shoulder and motioned to the back office. “Cal needs you.”

  Cal was leaning out of his office, gesturing for me to join him. I washed my hands off quickly and waved for everyone to take a break for a few minutes since we’d been cleaning nonstop all morning.

  “What’s up, boss?”

  “Why don’t you come in and shut the door behind you?”

  I watched him in concern as he rubbed his chest and grimaced. “You okay?’

  “Ethan, sit down. We need to talk.”

  Suddenly nervous and concerned over how pale Cal looked, I eased myself into the nearest chair. Whatever Cal had called me in for didn’t bode well for my craptastic day getting any better. When I didn’t say anything, Cal motioned to the paperwork covering his desk.

  “There’s no easy way for me to bring this up. The recent mishaps we’ve been experiencing here at the restaurant this past month have set me back. I have a slush fund, but at the rate things are falling apart, that cushion is dwindling by the day.”