She thought about the singular mop in the storage closet near the bathrooms and a strangled half laugh, half sob emerged from her throat. Talk about understatements.
“Ms. Bergeron, I’m so sorry.” The diner’s temporary chef, Lucius Sanchez, pushed through the open café doors, a protesting fireman at his heels. Lucius still wore the white chef’s coat he’d insisted on wearing for his shift.
“Sir, I’ve got to insist you leave the premises.” The young fireman clamped a firm hand on the chef’s arm.
Lucius shook off the uniformed man’s grip as his thick dark brow furrowed with regret. “The fried pickles got away from me. I’ve done them a hundred times, but the oil…” He flapped his hands helplessly at his sides. “Then when I was dealing with that, there was a grease fire that grabbed the towel. From there—whoosh.” He demonstrated with both hands.
Elisa’s shoulders shook as the sudden, uncanny urge to laugh gripped her. What in the world—was this grief? She snorted, then sputtered. Then the laughter burst free. Oh bless it, she couldn’t stop. Her upper body trembled under her wet shirt.
“Um, Chef…why don’t you go on home?” Noah looped an arm around Lucius’s shoulders and steered him toward the exit. Water slurped under their shoes, which only made Elisa laugh harder. Noah angled Lucius through the door. “You can dismiss the waitstaff, tell them to not come back until they hear from Elisa. It’ll probably be a day or two.”
“Or a hundred.” Elisa guffawed, bending over at the waist as her body convulsed with laughter. This was worse than that time Zoey had made her laugh in church, and she shook the entire pew with her attempts to control herself. She tried pinching her own arm, but it didn’t help. And she was cold. So cold.
“Elisa…you okay?” Captain Sanders slid his walkie talkie on his hip holster, concern sketched across his expression.
“Just peachy, Captain.” Elisa pressed her lips together as tears burned her eyes. The giggles wouldn’t stop.
“I think she’s in shock, sir.” The young fireman next to her gently touched her arm. “Why don’t we do a vitals check?”
“I’m fine.” She snorted again, and pressed her fingers to her mouth to catch the next one as she shivered. “It’s been a stressful few days, is all.” The last thing she needed was people fawning over her. She had work to do—starting with that mop.
The snort burst free.
The fireman frowned. “I think we should?—”
“She said she’s fine.” Noah turned to the captain, his commanding tone dismissing any further discussion. “I assume you turned the electricity off? What can we expect over the next few days while we clean up?”
Noah, once again taking charge on her behalf. She hated that and appreciated it, all at once. It was confusing. Sort of like how confusing it was to be this cold when she’d been practically sweating outside a few hours ago.
Elisa didn’t catch all of Captain Sanders’s instructions, something about breaker boxes and getting the water removed. All she could think about was how appealing Noah looked with his hair dripping down his forehead, his soaking wet T-shirt clinging to his muscled torso.
And then suddenly there was light, and shadow, blurring. Her vision, narrowing. She took a deep breath. Shivered. What were those swirls? She reached out to touch one…
And fell into sudden darkness.
eight
“Let me get this straight.” Zoey shoved a plate with a strawberry-lemon beignet across the black iron table to Elisa before taking the other chair for herself. “Noah Hebert ran into a burning building for you?”
The fairy lights clustered in fleurs-de-lis shaped wall vases across the sage-colored walls blurred in Elisa’s tired eyes as she skimmed her thumb over the dish’s stamped Bayou Beignets logo. After her morning, she didn’t have much appetite for the fuchsia and yellow street staring up at her. Her head hurt, and her arms ached from cleaning. “Well, a smoking building, technically.”
“Hey, where there’s smoke, there’s fire. And in this instance, I mean literallyandfiguratively.” Zoey folded her arms over the table and leaned forward. “I heard you swooned in his arms?”
Good gravy, Magnolia Bay’s gossip mill churned faster than the Pioneer Woman made butter. “Don’t even go there. Captain Sanders said it was a mix of shock, low blood pressure, and skipping breakfast that rendered me unconscious.”
Of course, Noahhadbrought over a sump pump he’d had in storage at the inn, which was sort of hero-like and made the cleaning that morning go much faster. But telling Zoey would only feed her friend’s delusion.
Zoey wiggled her eyebrows as she bit into her cookie-topped beignet, the bangles on her wrist jangling. “Sure. Low blood pressure…and chemistry.”
Elisa pinched off a piece of her dessert. “Ifainted. I didn’t get hit in the head.” Which is what it would take to fall for Noah Hebert again—sump pump or not.
Zoey tilted her head. “Or maybe Noah isn’t as bad as you’ve been told your whole life.”
“I’m starting to regret agreeing to Trish’s suggestion that I take a break before we get back to cleaning.” Elisa popped a bite into her mouth. “Besides, you were the one threatening to remind Noah about what a jerk he’s been. Let’s go back to that.”
Zoey lifted both hands. “Look, you know I’m on your side. But Noah seems to be helping you a lot suddenly.” She grinned. “Can’t we all just get along?”
Elisa snorted. “Try telling that to the multiple generations of two families who both think the other stole their land.”
