Page 126 of The Flirt

What the actual hell?

I stood up, grabbed my laptop, and immediately stormed out of the office, hurrying downstairs to the kitchen, where everyone was bustling around as usual.

Scarlett was obviously feeling even worse than I’d thought, because she was sitting. Her face was bright red, and even though she was seated, she was still swaying lightly.

Joel nodded at me, then darted to the opposite side of the room. Scarlett would probably still put two and two together, though.

As I walked up to her, the whole crew moved away.

"Chad," she said and stood up. "What are you doing here?" She swayed precariously.

I put a hand on her face. "You’re sick."

"I think I'm coming down with something, but I'm still doing okay. And I’m taking precautions so I don’t spread the illness."

"You're not fucking doing okay. Look at you. You're flushed." I pressed the back of my fingers to her forehead. "You have a fever."

"I’m just a bit drowsy."

"I'm taking you home."

She blinked, jerking her head back. "Dinner rush is about to start."

"And you are sick."

Sweat had formed at her temples, but she shook her head. "No, no. I need to be here."

"I'm sure Joel can handle the kitchen."

"Scarlett, we’ll manage for the evening. I can do the job," Joel chimed in. “We’re all prepped and ready to go. We’ll follow your list to the letter, promise.”

"You need to rest, woman,” I insisted. “Remember what I told you about showing up sick at work? I will throw you over my shoulder, and then everyone and their dog will know what's going on."

She swallowed hard, looking over her shoulder. "You wouldn't." She stopped talking when she saw my stony expression. "Oh, you really would, huh?"

"Yes, I fucking would."

"How did you even know I was sick?" Then she looked over her shoulder again. Joel had been watching us, but he quickly glanced at his chopping board. "Joel blabbed, didn't he?"

"Joel is as worried for you as am I."

"Well, the joke's on you," she said, pulling herself up to her full height, "because I'm not going anywhere."

"Then you leave me no choice." Loudly, I added, “Kitchen crew, turn your back to us."

"Oh my God," Scarlett exclaimed.

"Pretend you're not hearing anything,” I continued.

“Chad, you can't do this." Her voice was stern, but the corners of her mouth tilted up. "Fine, fine. I'm coming with you."

"Good.” I nodded. “False alarm, crew. Carry on," I said loudly once more.

"I'll go change," she said.

"I'll wait for you outside. Actually, you know what? I might wait for you inside at the entrance."

"Why? You think I'm going to try and sneak back to work?"

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