Embarrassment creeps up my neck, and my face flushes. “Yes, there is a lot of money on the line, and I got mixed up in a power play that I’ve decided I want no part of.”
Sloane tips her head to the side. “What do you mean? You have a choice?”
It feels like the temperature of the room has increased by at least twenty degrees, even though I’m sure it hasn’t, and Ilook down at the countertop. “I thought I didn’t. Well, I don’t if I want to stay in my father’s good graces, but I’ve realized my self-worth is more important.” I lift my eyes to Sloane’s. “I am worried about who they will send after me. He won’t be as soft as I am.”
“But you could help us? You can tell us what to expect?” It’s not really a question of whether I will help them in my mind, I’m going to help however I can. But even if she doesn’t realize it, ultimately, she’s asking me to choose between them and my father.
Fear blooms in my chest as I realize the trajectory my life is about to take. Fear of the unknown. Even though I’ve always stood on my own, my goal has always been to be valuable to and stand with my father. What am I without that?
For the first time in my life, I feel… free.
And scared.
I know it won’t be easy, I will definitely have to get another job. If I thought I rarely saw my parents before, I’m willing to bet I won’t see them at all.
Taking a deep breath, I nod. “I can tell you what to expect.”
A breath leaves Sloane’s chest, and she nods as the worry lines clear from her forehead and she smiles at me.
Popping a cube of bread in my mouth, the tart sweetness of the lemon bread explodes on my tongue, and I roll my eyes. "Oh my god, this is so good." I hold my fingers in front of my mouth as I chew while I'm talking.
Hallie’s chest puffs out, and she smiles from ear to ear. “Really? You think so?”
“Heaven.” I say and give her a chef’s kiss.
Sloane clears her throat. “You’ll have to tell Gray and Mr. Harlow what you just told us. They need to know if someone else is coming here.”
Nodding my head as I swallow the tart goodness, I say, “I will.” I jokingly shrug one shoulder. “Maybe I can get in Gray’s good graces.”
She leans closer to me and puts her hand over mine. "Gray is suspicious by nature and, since his wife died, overprotective of those he loves. Especially Lainey Rai."
A tickle in my throat has me clearing my throat and I take a drink of my milk. “It’s so sad they both lost their wives.”
Sloane looks over her shoulder at the windows to make sure no one is coming to the house. "Mason told me it tore him up so bad that it made him into the grump we all tease him of being today." She shakes her head as she looks down at her hands. "I can't imagine that kind of pain."
My tongue is tingling, and the tickle feels like a thick coating of mucus in my throat. Loudly clearing my throat, I take another drink of milk. "How long had they been married?"
Sloane's eyebrows pull together as she thinks, making a wrinkle appear above her nose. "Mason said they had been together since they were in high school." She watches me cough in my hand and asks, "Are you okay?"
"Uhm," I cough into my hand again, my tongue feels big. "I'm not sure, what's in the bread?"
Sloane looks at my neck with wide eyes and Hallie steps up beside her, her fingers over her lips. "Your neck is all splotchy red."
Sloane spins around and grabs a binder from the counter behind her and opens it to the page with the lemon bread recipe before she slides it to me. I'm holding my throat and coughing as I look at the recipe: Sesame Oil Lemon Bread.
SESAME OIL!
Oh no.
I jerk my head back up to look at Sloane, my eyes wide. "I'm allergic to sesame seeds."My voice is a whisper, and my words are slurring a little.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Sloane spins and grabs Hallie's arm. "Go get Gray, now!"
Hallie's eyes have filled with tears, and she nods as she spins to run to the back door.
I can feel the skin over my face and head getting hot, and everything is itching. I'm trying to keep my panic at bay, I've been through this many times as a kid, but there were always epinephrine shots scattered around the house. My mind spins as I try to remember if I put my shot in my bag or left it in my suitcase at the hotel.
I never go anywhere without my shot, but I don't remember taking it from my suitcase.
