It felt like a beginning.
What I didn't know yet was that it was also, in its way, a clock starting.
TWELVE
DAEMON
The week after meeting Nadia's family had been both better and worse than I expected.
Better because we'd fallen into a simple rhythm. Sofia's place, or mine. Stolen dinners between her events, late nights planning how to beat Elevate.
Worse, because the pressure kept building.
Three more emails from Samantha Morrison. Two voicemails. Each one more insistent than the last. Nadia deleted them all without responding.
Instead, she'd spent her evenings with Sofia, the two of them hunched over that worn recipe notebook, testing dishes and arguing about garlic-to-basil ratios. Watching them work together settled something in my chest.
They were building something. A partnership that would give Nadia an edge Elevate couldn't match.
But partnerships took time, and Elevate weren’t screwing around.
At the crack of dawn on Saturday, Nadia's phone rang. She was dead to the world after last night's lovemaking, and I knew she wouldn't want to take the call. I was about to shove the phone under my pillow when I recognized the caller.
It was Jen, one of Nadia's servers. The timing didn't bode well.
The phone wasn't locked, so I answered, readying myself to rouse Nadia. I didn't get the chance. Jen started wailing, her words audible even without the call on speaker.
"Nadia, it's Jen. I'm sick. Like really sick. Food poisoning or something. There's no way I can work today."
Before I could tell her she wasn't talking to Nadia, I heard someone retching, the sound having a familiar ring to it, though I couldn’t tell you why. Either way, I knew it was a problem. Nadia grumbled about being woken up, then the call ended. Doubtless so Jen could continue throwing up.
As I lay there waiting for the beauty next to me to fully wake, I thought about the event later that day. It was a big deal, according to Nadia. Hadn't she said something about two hundred guests?
If my gut was tightening at the prospect of her being short-staffed, I hated to think how she'd react when I broke the news. But perhaps I could help.
Saturday. Nothing urgent on my schedule. Tyler would understand if I bailed on helping him move furniture. By the time Nadia woke, I had it all straight in my mind. Would it be easy? No. But neither would it be impossible.
I was a resourceful guy.
"Who was that?" mumbled Nadia, her voice still thick with sleep.
"It was Jen. She's got food poisoning. She can't work today."
I saw the shock on her face, the way the color drained, and realized I should have broken the news more slowly. Sure enough, she started spiraling immediately, listing staff shortages and contingencies.
"Put me to work," I said.
She blinked. "What?"
"I'm off today. I can follow directions and carry heavy things. Use me."
"Daemon, you don't have experience?—"
"Then tell me what to do." I squeezed her hand. "Three hours until setup. That's enough time."
Watching her expressive face, I saw the second she realized she had no other option but to rope me in. It took longer for her shoulders to drop and for her to say, "Okay. Yes."
Three hours later, I was in black pants and a vest, standing in the foyer at the Coogan's Events Center while Nadia ran through the basics. Plate presentation, wine service, clearing protocols.
