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Eyes on his chicken parmesan, she reached sideways and…plunged into a bubbling cauldron of scalding liquid.
The soooup!
Squinching, Evie yanked her hand free from the scorching hell, and in the process, tipped Nick’s food down the front of his designer suit. He shouted—something—but Evie was consumed by her searing nightmare, spitting out a shrill “Shiiit!” as the chaotic OH GOD, OH GOD! screaming in her head snagged, halted by hitched breaths and the escalating throb pulsing through her fingers.
She buckled forward, the swell of nausea sloshing in her stomach as she whimpered, cradling her blistering hand. All thoughts of slopped food and hungry clients evaporated like the billowing steam escaping the pots on the stove.
“How bad is it?” asked Nick, suddenly by her side. “Let me see.”
“I-I’m fine,” Evie stammered, her watery wince locked on the red splotch blighting her hand.
“Come with me.”
Body stiffening, Evie’s stare darted, her gathering tears blurring the splodge of cheese and splattered tomato sauce soiling his suit. “No!”
“Just to the sink,” said Nick. “To cool the burn. Water will reduce pain and swelling.”
The sizzling agony wobbled her knees and weakened her resolve. As much as Evie hated being reliant on Nick, she’d do just about anything to stop her hand feeling like a pancake left too long on the griddle. “Okay.” She sniffed, shuffling to the back of the truck.
Running the taps, Nick stuck his fingers in the water, testing the temperature. “It might sting at first.”
Evie cautiously placed her hand under the stream, its coolness prompting a flood of stabbing tingles through her skin. She sucked in a breath.
“You’re doing great,” said Nick. “Now, hold it there for a few minutes, okay?”
Evie withdrew her hand. “I have to serve lunch.”
“The crew can wait. This can’t,” he answered confidently and widened his eyes like he was urging her to obey. “Evie, you’ve got to trust me.”
I can’t. She balked, another piercing throb pulsing through her hand and her heart. Swallowing hard, hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Not now. Not ever again.
“Honestly, this will soothe the burn.”
The ache intensified. “Oww!” She gritted her teeth.
Nick’s expression grew flustered. “Evie, please. Don’t fight me on this. I’m trying to help.”
Begrudgingly, she complied as he removed his phone from a trouser pocket and began texting. She wiped away the teary evidence on her face with her other hand. “Who are you messaging?”
“Our on-set medic. While we wait for her, I’ll serve the crew.”
Putting his phone away, Nick washed his hands then stepped up to the counter, passing two plates of chicken and salad through the window to the next people in line.
Evie craned her neck. “You need a hairnet. The box is—”
“Got it.” Without protest, Nick pulled the elastic and plastic cap over his hair, squashing his pride and joy.
He’s actually wearing it!
Washing his hands once more, he resumed serving. “The soup? No, we’re all out. Sorry.” He leaned closer to the window and his colleague waiting outside. “Between you and me,” his volume lowered, “the chicky parm is better anyway.”
Evie slipped into a pout, simultaneously annoyed and bewildered by his kindness. And I’ve ruined his suit. The sting of guilt prickled.
Several served meals later, Nick joined her at the sink, checking on the red, blistering blotch marring her right hand. “How’s it feel?”
“Sore but numb, too—the water…” Fixating on his damaged suit, she cleared her throat. “If the dry cleaners is closed in Kirkwall when you get back, dab a mixture of dish detergent and white vinegar on the stain. Let it sit for twenty minutes then rinse with cool water. But don’t saturate it. That’ll make it worse. If that’s possible,” she mumbled.
A surprised glint arose in his eyes. Nick opened his mouth to say something—
