Page 79 of Pitcher Perfect

Bailey nodded eagerly. “I’ll talk with some of the others who own event spaces.” He rushed off.

“Small towns scare the living shit outta me,” Dom said, his voice gruff.

A city boy through and through, Dom was regularly shocked and terrified by things that felt normal to me—how gossip spread faster than a wildfire during a drought and how people seemed to know everyone else’s business. The passive-aggressive manipulation was my personal favorite. Mabel was a whiz at that.

“You just gotta roll with it, D.” I winked.

As the evening wore on, I found my feet itching to take me to Caleb to check on him. I hoped he was sleeping his migraine off and not worrying about the event. Dom and I had done decent enough to finish the amazing work he’d started if the empty platters and big smiles were anything to go by.

After taking a few more platters back to the truck to refill, I found Frank Ambrose standing outside the truck’s entrance.

“Mr. Larsen didn’t make it?”

“He had a personal emergency. Your kitchen will be fully cleaned and returned to normal tomorrow. I just need to wash this stuff first.” I jerked my thumb back toward the truck. I would way rather use the professional dishwashing machine in the kitchen than do it by hand in the truck’s tiny sink.

He waved me off. “I’m not worried about that. Is he doing okay with his migraine?”

I tilted my head.

He must’ve sensed my confusion. “I stopped in earlier to make sure he had everything he needed for this important event and noticed the signs. Anyway. Good work. We received several new membership applications.” Frank nodded once.

“I’m glad it went well.”

He turned to leave.

“Frank?”

“Hmm?”

I swallowed. “I know my opinion probably doesn’t carry much weight, given how my dad bailed on you, but Caleb wouldn’t do that. He would do a lot for this town.”

Frank’s jaw flexed. “It’s not your fault your dad cared more about his potential celebrity than his obligations.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll give all this”—he gestured toward the truck— “some thought. Thank you again for supporting the chamber.”

That was the best I could do. I felt like Frank heard me instead of holding on to how my dad had left him in the lurch with a brand-new restaurant and no chef to cook in it. Maybe he would give Caleb a chance.

After the stragglers left and we closed the brewery, I drove the truck over to Caleb’s apartment complex. I knew I should go to the restaurant and wash the platters and dishes before the food residue dried, but it could wait.

As I walked up to Caleb’s apartment, I told myself I would quickly check on him, get him some fresh water and anything else he needed if he was awake, then leave him alone to recover. I let myself into his place as quietly as I could. The lights were still off, and I hoped he was sleeping. I carefully closed the door behind me to minimize any noise and paused to listen for signs of life. Nothing.

I didn’t want to turn on lights and risk hurting his head further, so I put my phone’s flashlight app on its lowest setting and aimed it at my leg to give me just enough light to avoid crashing into something. The wildest thought crossed my mind. I wanted to know Caleb’s apartment well enough to navigate it in the dark without a second thought. I couldn’t even do that yet in Dom’s house.

“Austin?” Caleb’s voice was hoarse and quiet.

“Yeah, it’s me.” I paused in his bedroom doorway. “How are you?”

“Miserable.” He groaned. “Idiot for not moving my prescription.”

“It’ll be ready in the morning. I called earlier to check.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I’ll swing by and grab it for you. No arguments,” I said, stopping what I knew was coming.

His chuckle sounded pained.

“I’ll get you some fresh water. Need anything else?”

“A new skull?”

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