Page 75 of Sinfully Shameless Chef

He takes a step forward with his hands raised. “No, Izzy, it's not like that.”

“It sure as hell seems like it is.”

How can he even ask this? Did nothing we shared last night mean anything? Was he even listening?

“We spent a lot of money doing a press release and advertising. We have commercials already being recorded that are going to be aired. We've invited a lot of really important people. We can't move it.”

It shouldn’t surprise me that Grant and Jameson would be going balls-out for their opening. They have the capability to launch with tremendous fanfare. And of course, they had to choose the same day. But it doesn’t have to be the end of the world like he’s making it out to be.

“Why should I have to move mine? Why can't they both be the same night?”

He grinds his jaw together and glances out the window. “Because it's not good business. For either of us. We need different days so that we’ll both be able to really direct focus on our individual places. This is as much for you as it is for me.”

“Bullshit.” I jam the posters back into the bag and squeeze my eyes shut against the onset of the world spinning around me.

Crap.

With as burned out and crappy as I’ve been feeling lately, having my blood pressure spike this way definitely isn't helping things.

“No.” I shake my head and glance at him as I grab my bag off the couch and prepare myself to leave. It’s clear what his priorities are, and I am not one of them. “I'm not moving my date. Move yours or deal with it.”

“Izzy, please.”

“Don't Izzy me. You knew what you were asking for, and you did it anyway. You knew it was my grandmother's birthday, how important this is to me, yet I bet you didn't even for once consider moving your opening, did you?”

“Of course, I did. I suggested it to Grant. But he said no.”

“Oh, now you're blaming Grant.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” His hands fist at his sides. “He owns fifty-one percent. This might be my restaurant, but really, it's his.” He points a finger toward the door like Grant is standing right there. “I don't have the ultimate say on anything. No matter what Grant might say about me making decisions, at the end of the day, it’s his choice. I don’t have the power.”

“You do on this.” I clench my fists at my side, mimicking his stance. “You're the one who has to go there and cook, right? So…don't.”

His jaw drops, his sparkling amber eyes wide. “You want me to tank my own opening?”

When he says it that way, it does sound pretty stupid. And ridiculous of me to ask. But what else can I do?

Frustration steals any response I might make to his question. “I don’t know what I want, Jameson, other than out of here right now.”

I take a step to brush past him, and my legs wobble. His strong arm wraps around me, keeping me from falling. I try to elbow my way out of his hold, but he grabs my face and tilts it up toward him.

“Don't leave like this.” His eyes widen slightly, and he shifts his hand over my forehead. “Shit, Iz. You’re burning up. You have a fever.”

“I do?” It would certainly explain why I've been feeling like shit all day even though I was in an amazing mood. I brushed it off as just it being so hot and humid today and running around like a madwoman to get things ready, but apparently, I was wrong. “I'm fine. I just need to get home and—”

The words die on my lips as another wave of dizziness makes me sag into Jameson’s arms.

“Shit. I’m calling an ambulance…”

19

JAMESON

The bitter bite of antiseptic barely covers the scent of illness and death. It’s one of the worst things about hospitals, and it brings up memories I wish I could forget. Mom in a bed, clinging to life for far longer than she should have. Bash, Rach, and me around her, spending her final moments with her while Dad was nowhere to be found.

It still makes rage flood my veins to know Rach and Bash ran to his bedside when he was at the end. He didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve to have any kind of compassion or forgiveness from them. Didn’t deserve to have them sit at his bedside like this.

So completely helpless.

---