Page 53 of Bite Me

I reach for a towel to help them, and my pinky hits the side of the cooling pan on the countertop.

“Just hurry up. We don’t have time. Do you want me to do it?” one of the girls asks.

“No, I’ve got it.”

The entire kitchen is a war zone from top to bottom. The sink is full of dishes, and the countertops are cluttered with dirty plates. It’s a blur of dirty white coats, and screaming faces of disappointment.

I thought I could do this. I thought I liked this. But the pressure from the challenge is like cinder blocks tied to my feet. I can’t move.

Dacre was right. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t deserve to be here. I’ve let my whole team down.

“Dinner is underway. We need an ETA on the cakes.”

The room is a blur, and the only thing I hear is the timer on the oven and the isolated voices clamoring for my attention all at once.

“Emma.”

“What are you doing?”

“I need air.”

“What!?”

I shed my apron by the door and go for some fresh air. There’s a back way out of the kitchen that leads right into the woods, the perfect escape from this nightmare. I won’t have to face Parker, and I can avoid a tongue lashing from Luther and Verity until tomorrow morning.

I can’t believe I thought I was good at this. Me? A chef in the city?

I’ve got the first few buttons undone on my jacket as I reach the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dacre’s voice is icy cold in the humid, sticky air.

Of course. I don’t know why I thought my watcher would ever not notice my absence.

“I . . . I need a minute.”

I keep my attention on the door, inching my fingers closer to the doorknob.

“Stop.”

I do. His footsteps grow closer.

“Look at me.”

I spin and reluctantly tilt my chin up to meet his eyes.

The pools of emerald are softer than I imagined.

“You’re letting your group down.” His voice is even, and there’s something reassuring about it that claws at my panic.

He positions himself to block my way to escape, but I need to go. I can’t do this.

I try again to maneuver around him, and he places a hand on the doorframe, pinning me to the wall.

“Why do you care?” I spit.

“Answer the question, Emma. Where are you going?”

“I’m walking out. They’re better off without me. I’ve messed up everything all night.”