My pulse speeds up.
My wife.
Somewhere between sliding a ring on her finger this morning, and wrapping up the service, the knowledge has sunk in. I’m still not completely used to it, but it feels more real, more visceral; I’m married to her.
I’ll be taking her to my home for the first time. We arranged for her things to be moved this morning. Briar helped pack her things.
I can’t wait to have her under my roof.
Also, it’s time to tell the team.
I straighten and clap my hands.
When I have the attention of everyone, I turn to Harper. "Will you join me, please?"
35
Harper
Wow, he said please. He’s being polite. And he asked, no, requested I join him. Which should alert everyone that something's wrong.
Did I say wrong? I mean, something has changed.
On the other hand, I'm grateful he didn’t order me to walk over, as he would have if I were part of his team.
Which leaves me in a bit of a pickle.
Because I am. But also, I'm his wife.
This working together while being married to each other is going to be trickier than I expected.
Very aware of the curious looks of the others in the kitchen, I smooth back my hair, making sure it’s all tucked under the skull cap I wear at work. Then I walk over to him. When I reach him, I turn to face the kitchen.
Every single person in the kitchen is staring at us.
Other than Henrik, no one knows why the two of us were supposed to have the first part of the day off. I swallow. I knew this moment wascoming, but standing here at the center of the brigade’s attention is deeply uncomfortable.
I begin to edge to the side, hoping to put a little distance between us.
James doesn’t allow it.
His arm comes around my shoulders. He pulls me firmly against him, tucking me into his side as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
An audible gasp runs through the room.
My cheeks burst into flames.
As the onlywoman in the kitchen, one of the youngest members of the team, and the sous chef, I already have more to prove than anyone else here. I worry how this will look to the others. My stomach knots with nerves.
Once they know we’re married, what will they think?
That I slept with the boss to get my position?
That my authority in the kitchen is a joke?
My pulse thuds at my temples. My heart batters my ribs.
No.
