And then it gets worse.
On my way back to the kitchen, I see them:James and Tommy.
They’re right outside the restaurant, visible through the massive windows. I can’t tell what’s happening, but they look tense. Arguing.
And thenbam—James’s fist slams into Tommy’s face.
A collective gasp ripples through the restaurant, and my stomach bottoms out.
I fly out the doors just as Tommy rips off his jacket and throws himself shoulder-first into James’s stomach. They go down with a thud and flashing cameras light up the sidewalk.
The brothers are rolling, wrestling, shouting, but I can’t hear them over the ringing in my ears.
I turn. Every single person—my family, my friends, Amelia, the damn paparazzi—are all watching, gathering to see what’s happening. James’s parents are trying to make it through the crush of bodies, but they’re not going to get here fast enough.
“Hey! STOP!” I shout at the brothers. They don’t.
James has Tommy pinned. There’s dirt on his jeans, blood on his lip.
“You’re such an asshole!” he growls.
Tommy sneers. “Please. If I am, I learned it from you!”
Noah, Will, and Jack make it outside first. Will, showing his former bodyguard roots, dives in and peels James off Tommy like it’s nothing.
It’s all happening so fast.
Noah helps Tommy up, and Jack touches my shoulder like he wants to comfort me. But I shake him off. I’m about to break, and Icannotdo it in front of them.
She is overly emotional.
She doesn’t have enough experience.
You’re a disgrace to my kitchen.
Both brothers are panting, looking ready to launch at each other again. Only when I say their names do they look at me.
James’s expression softens as he sees my face, sees how upset I am. He takes a step toward me.
I raise a hand. “Get out of here. Both of you.”
They hesitate.
“Now.”
I don’t wait to see if they listen.
With tears clouding my eyes, I turn and bolt—straight to my cottage—while every person I’ve ever wanted to impress stands and watches me fail.
Again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
James
15 MINUTES AGO
The restaurant is in full swing.
