As we brave the horde of reporters, shouting questions at us, asking us if we have a statement for the press, I wish one thing. Though I know that it’s right to protect Bailey from all of this ugliness, part of me is selfish.
The three of us are a team. We belong together. As I head to face the destruction of the restaurant that I’ve worked so hard to build, an essential piece of me is missing. I wish Bailey could be with us.
* * *
Daniel:
It doesn’t take us long to get into my car and head to Seb New York. The street outside is crowded with fire trucks, ambulances and police cars. We open the door and hurry out, Sebastian making straight for Helen. When she sees him, she throws her arms around him and breaks down.
Sebastian’s face is white with shock as he pats her back, and I’ve never felt more helpless in my life. In order to be somewhat useful, I head to the person who seems to be in charge, a big fireman who looks to be in his fifties. “I’m Daniel Hartman,” I introduce myself. “Sebastian’s a little occupied at the moment.” I wave in Sebastian’s direction. “Can you fill me in?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Hartman,” the guys says. “My name is Neil Williams. Our crew was the first to respond to the call.”
“Who called it in?”
“The florist next door,” he says. “The call came in shortly after eleven.”
“Seb New York isn’t open for lunch.” I frown. “In fact, they aren’t even open Mondays.”
“They aren’t,” he confirms. “The woman who is the emergency contact said the same thing. Katya something?”
“Katya Marinova,” I tell him. “She’s the restaurant manager. So, what happened?”
“As best as I can tell, the fire was caused by an oil spill. In restaurants, it’s usually deep fryers.”
“And Ben? I heard he’s injured.”
“He’s badly burned,” Neil Williams confirms, his face sober. “More than that, he inhaled a lot of smoke. An ambulance took him away. The cops could probably tell you which hospital he’s in.”
No matter how many times I’ve urged Sebastian to fire Ben, he doesn’t deserve this. No one does. The poor guy. “And the damage to the premises? Is it safe enough to enter?”
“Absolutely not.” His voice is stern. “A crew will have to come in and verify that there’s no structural damage. Until they’ve given the green light, no one should enter the place.”
“Fair enough.” I’ve no desire to risk anyone’s life. Enough damage has been done today. I shake his hand. “Thank you for your help.”
“No worries,” he says. He hesitates, about to say something else. “You’re the billionaire on the Post this morning, right? My wife reads that rag.”
Damn Cyrus and Juliette. “I am.” My voice is curt.
He raises his hands. “I just want to tell you how wrong I think it is.” He frowns. “They have no right to be in your business that way.”
“Thanks.” I’m about to add something else, when I see a person I very much want to talk to. Juliette. “Mr. Williams,” I look at the fire chief, “will you excuse me? I need to catch up with someone.”
I’m having the morning from hell. We all are. At the university, Bailey’s worried about being fired. Sebastian is comforting his staff, most of whom are in tears. Juliette didn’t cause either of these two things, but if she was responsible for our picture in the tabloids?
I’m not in the mood to be kind.
Approaching her, I take hold of her elbow. “Juliette,” I tell her, my voice simmering with barely-contained anger. “Can we talk?”
40
All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt.
Charles M. Schultz
Bailey:
I go through my day on autopilot. At three, I give up on the grading and head back home. Piper’s sitting on the couch, smothered under a pile of blankets, and Jasper’s fulfilling his role as paperweight, sitting on her stomach, looking smug. “You’re back early,” she says. “How come?”
“I might be getting fired.” I sit on the other end of the couch and draw the blankets over me.