Page 119 of Never Let You Go

I’m pulled by two muscular arms and slide onto a hard chest against my back. Christopher’s voice vibrates against my ear. “Are you okay?” My knees buckle, and as he strengthens his grasp against me, I wince at the sharp pain awakening my arm. “Where does it hurt?”

“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I don’t know what happened.”

“You got the proportions wrong,” he says. “I should have stayed with you, that’s what happened. Now, tell me where it hurts.” He doesn’t wait for my answer, just narrows his gaze on my hand hugging my elbow.

“It’s fine,” I say and flinch as he gently removes my hand.

He slips my apron above my head then unbuttons the long-sleeved chef’s shirt I wear on top of my T-shirt and slides it off. I draw a sharp breath as he cups my elbow.

“Can you bend it?” he asks softly, and for a moment, I’m lost in his gentleness, and I forget I’m hurting. “Can you?” he insists, worry creasing his eyebrows.

I bend it slowly and nod. The pain is so acute, it radiates to my leg, and I teeter.

“Sit down,” he says. “Someone get me some Arnica gel,” he barks, louder. “Should be in the kitchen. Second drawer below the microwave.” He holds my hand in his. “And a glass of water.”

Willow scurries to the kitchen, and when she comes back with the required items, Kiara wiggles her eyebrows playfully while Christopher applies the gel himself.

I roll my eyes and look away from her, focusing instead on how Christopher is taking gentle care of me.

After we’ve determined nothing’s broken, I’m dismissed for the day and instructed to rest my elbow.

But, before that, I get to summarize my mistake to the whole team, because “We all learn from our mistakes, and we can also try and learn from the mistakes of others.” (Barf).

Turns out, I misread the instructions and swapped the quantity of flour and the quantity of yeast. Oops. And the decision to speed up the process just made it worse. And, here, we get a lesson from the master on how important time is. Not as in, Let’s not waste it, but as in, Let’s use as much of it as we can.

Certainly not something I would have heard in New York, and that’s exactly the point he’s trying to make.

My elbow bandaged, I plop myself on the couch in the den and start sorting through all the photos I took in the bakery. Just because I’m off baking duty, doesn’t mean I won’t earn my keep. So, I get to work on what I do best.

On what I love.

Showcasing other people.

It’s easy when you’re dealing with a passionate individual like Christopher, who knows to surround himself with genuine people who clearly love what they’re doing.

I open my laptop and organize the photos I took in categories—People, Process, Products, and Place. I don’t need much time to decide on the color palette I want for the brand. I’ll follow the down-to-earth, authentic feels of the browns and golden hues of the breads. Simple painted pottery and plaid stadium blankets will complete the look.

I’ll keep it real by incorporating photos I took at Justin’s of Christopher’s slices of country breads and rye rolls in wicker baskets or directly on wooden boards, nudged between a cut of Ballyhoo cheese and a chunk of Bayley Hazen blue.

A picnic basket for a prop would be awesome. There’s still snow on the ground, although we’re moving fast into mud season. I’ll take photos in the green lush fields once the snow is entirely melted.

I get to work, sorting, cropping, retouching, applying filters to get the effect I want.

At noon, my eyes are tired, and I welcome the lunch break.

“So, you don’t have social media accounts,” I say to Christopher when there’s a lull in the conversation, which has been mainly between Willow and Isaac, since Kiara left before lunch.

He grunts, a raised eyebrow the only effort he’s going to put into the conversation. So what, I translate.

I’m not going to ask why not, because that would corner me exactly where I don’t want to be: arguing why he would need an online presence. “Would you mind having some?”

“Couldn’t care less.”

I clear my throat. “Does that mean you’d be okay having a social media presence?”

“Depends.”

“If you didn’t need to do anything? And it would bring you business?”

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