Page 74 of Things We Burn

I’d jumped into action, looking up the best lawyer in the city, calling them despite it being the middle of the night by the time I’d given my statement to the police countless times, called Heidi to let her know what happened in the kitchen and that the restaurant would be closed.

That should’ve all come second. I should’ve called the lawyer first. That was logical, yet all logic had abandoned me.

“Ms. Hart, yes, we’ve already been in contact with Mr. Smith,” a woman told me as if it were midday.

I blinked in confusion. My head was pounding, my ears ringing and my stomach clenching from the lack of food I’d imbibed all day. I didn’t dare eat. I knew I’d vomit it all up. “Mr. Smith?”

“Braxton Smith, Mr. Rhodes’s manager,” the woman clarified.

Brax.

I hadn’t called him. I wanted him as far from this situation as possible. But somehow, he knew. He already had his talons in, one step ahead of me.

This wasn’t a competition, I reminded myself. The fact that Brax was getting lawyers together, getting organized, meant that Kane was going to be okay. As much as I didn’t like the man, Kane was his paycheck, and he wouldn’t earn him money from behind bars. Even if his intentions were nefarious, the overall desire was the same. Get Kane out of jail.

Jail.

My mouth was sandy at the thought of it.

I hadn’t had a wink of sleep all night. After the lawyer’s office promised me a meeting the next day, I’d spent what was left of the night going over every second of what had transpired, trying to figure out all the ways I could’ve avoided this horrible situation.

I could’ve told Kane the truth at the start. I could’ve refused to cook with Gerald—despite my pride. I could’ve been brave and actually spoken up about him all those years ago.

Yes, there were many paths I could’ve taken that would’ve spared Kane from this. But I hadn’t. I hadn’t dwelled on the ‘what ifs’ since my father died. I’d promised myself not to do it again.

So when the sun rose, I put on my clothes—slacks and a white blouse, sensible-heeled shoes, pulled back my hair and did my best to cover the bags under my eyes with makeup. There was a faint bruise underneath my eye, a redness to my cheek that still lingered.

There was just a lone photographer outside my apartment, telling me the news hadn’t broken … yet. I hid behind dark glasses, but I didn’t need to since he didn’t even seem to recognize me without Kane. How quickly I sank into obscurity without him. Obscurity. Hadn’t that been what I wanted?

Yet without the presence of him, I felt less than invisible.

Self-pity does not become you, I told myself.

That wasn’t who I was. I sucked it up and dealt. Got things done.

Brax was at the lawyer’s office when I arrived.

That irked me for reasons unknown. Well, not reallyunknown.I didn’t like the guy. Which wasn’t exactly fair. He’d been in Kane’s life for a lot longer than I had. Kane was a good judge of character, he was a good man, and he trusted Brax.

I needed to as well.

Yet disgust snaked down my spine when he pulled me into a hug in the plush reception area.

He smelled of expensive cologne. Too much of it, yet not enough to mask the bitter undertone of sweat.

“You didn’t have to come,” he said, releasing me but holding on to my upper arms for a fraction too long, his grip just a little too tight. “I’ve got this under control.” He lifted his hand up to smooth his already perfect hair.

“Of course, I had to come,” I argued, my tone a little sharp. “I’m…” I pursed my lips. Saying I was Kane’s girlfriend sounded juvenile and nowhere near important enough of a title for what we were.

But we weren’t engaged. Weren’t married. Hadn’t been together all that long. By all societal standards, Iwasjust a girlfriend. I had no legal rights in this situation. The reality of that made my skin clammy and my heart rate spike.

After years of experience in busy kitchens, I managed to keep my expression neutral and calm, maintaining eye contact with Brax.

“Of course, I had to come,” I repeated my earlier statement. “This is where I belong, making sure that Kane is going to be okay.”

“Darlin’, that’s my job,” Brax chuckled, the sound faux and condescending. “Don’t you worry—”

“My pretty little head about it?” I tilted the aforementioned head sideways to regard him.

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