My stomach drops. "The beer keg?"
"Yeah."
The beer keg. The centerpiece of our beverage service. The thing keeping half the attendees happy and generous with their wallets.
"Okay. Okay. We can fix this." I'm already moving. Back through the hall. Into the kitchen. Grath follows. His bulk blocking most of the light but somehow still comforting.
The kitchen's a disaster. Half-prepped appetizer trays. Dishes piled in the sink. And yes. The massive beer keg shoved against the far wall. Right where the outlet is.
I crouch down. Peer behind it. Sure enough, the plug's wedged at an angle. Wire bent. Probably damaged the internal connection.
"We need to move it. Check the outlet. Pray nothing's fried."
Grath nods. Grabs the keg with both hands. Muscles bunching under his shirt. Lifts it like it weighs nothing.
I should focus on the electrical issue. On the outlet. On fixing the problem.
Instead I watch the way his shoulders flex. The line of his spine. The easy strength in every movement.
Get it together, Maris.
I crouch lower. Examine the outlet. The plastic casing's cracked. Wire exposed. Not sparking, thank god, but definitely not safe.
"It's bad?"
"It's not good. I need to kill power to this whole section. Swap the outlet. Hope we didn't blow anything else."
"Tools?"
"Under the sink."
He retrieves the toolbox. Hands it to me. Our fingers brush. Brief. Electric.
I yank my hand back. Pop open the toolbox. Rummage for the screwdriver and wire strippers.
Focus. Power off. Panel's right there.
I flip the main kitchen breaker. Plunging us into deeper darkness.
Grath adjusts his phone light. Angles it so I can see.
"Thanks."
"You're good at this."
"What, basic home repair?"
"Fixing things. Staying calm."
I snort. Unscrew the faceplate. "I'm internally screaming."
"You hide it well."
"Years of practice."
The old outlet comes free. Wires twisted and melted at the ends. Worse than I thought.
I strip the damaged sections. Twist new connections. Hands steady even though my pulse is sprinting.
