Love Burns

by Adrian J. Smith

  Becca swallowed hard as she remained sitting. Kimberly smiled as Michael ran over to hug her, declaring he had missed her desperately in the last hour she’d been gone. Kimberly laughed, told him she’d missed him too then invited him to go with her to the kitchen. When Becca didn’t move swiftly enough, Kimberly stopped mid-turn and cocked her head to the side.

  “Coming?”

  “Yes.” Becca’s voice broke, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes.”

  Following Kimberly was an adventure. She’d never been backstage before. There were rooms upon rooms until she came upon a small kitchen area. It had a large oven and burners, a counter—all the bells and whistles a normal kitchen had, plus some. Michael spent the next hour helping his mom prepare three sets of the same three dishes, leaving all of them in various states of unfinished except one.

  A timer resounded in the room, and Michael rushed over to the oven, jumping up and down. “It’s done! It’s done!” He took in a deep breath through his nose and made a slurping sound with his mouth. “It smells soooo good.”

  “It does.” Carrie Danforth came in through the door, startling Becca. She bent down close to Michael and smiled. “I can’t wait to taste it, can you?”

  He shook his head then hid slightly behind his mom’s leg. Kimberly reached down and pressed her hand into his back, comforting him. She turned to Carrie and smiled. “This is my son, Michael.”

  “Hi, Michael,” Carrie replied. “I’m Carrie.”

  Carrie extended her hand. Carefully and slowly, Michael took it and shook before hiding behind his mom again. Becca waited for a sign that Kimberly wanted her to take him to their room before the show began, but Kimberly made no such request.

  “This is Becca.”

  “Hi.” Becca waved her hand, trying to pull herself together and not be starstruck, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would be meeting the host of a daytime talk show. This was so far out of her world that no one would believe her even if she told them. “I’m just the nanny.”

  Kimberly shook her head. “Not just the nanny. I wouldn’t be able to do this without her.”

  Heat tinged Becca’s cheeks. Carrie held out her hand and shook Becca’s. “Well, glad you’re here to help out.”

  Carrie turned to Kimberly. She took a few steps forward and gripped Kimberly’s broken wrist tenderly. “What happened here?”

  “Ah, I broke it. Stupid, really. Fell in the kitchen at Gamma’s. Clumsy me.”

  “Can you cook?”

  “Oh, yeah. I can cook. Always.” A twinkle entered Kimberly’s eye. “It’s my non-dominant hand, so I’m lucky—but I can cook.”

  “Good. Just be careful, okay?”

  “Always.”

  Carrie pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes as she judged Kimberly. “I don’t believe you, but that’s okay. What are you making today?”

  “Grilled salmon filets with lemon, grilled veggies in a lemon-herb sauce and a peach crumble. That’s what Michael here has been waiting for.”

  “Well, it does smell delicious. Did you help your mom make all this?”

  Michael nodded vigorously, but he didn’t make a sound.

  “I really can’t wait to try it all. I bet it tastes as good as it smells.”

  Shyly, Michael put his head into his mother’s leg, hiding from Carrie.

  Carrie turned to Kimberly. “It’s always a pleasure to have you here. We shouldn’t make it so long next time.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Carrie left, and Kimberly finished setting up. Michael stole leftover sliced peaches from the counter as he danced around the kitchen in joy. Becca remained fairly quiet, not sure what to say or do. Everything was a new experience for her, and she was unsure what proper etiquette was, so she kept Michael in line as best she could and watched Kimberly in her zone.

  She wasn’t paying attention when Kimberly turned with a fork of food in her hand and a smirk on her face. “Here… Try this.”

  Before Becca could even answer, Kimberly shoved the fork toward her. Parting her lips, Becca took the proffered bite and moaned around the bright bursts of lemon on the salmon. Becca put her hand to her mouth and moaned again as a second wave of flavors hit her.

  “I love salmon,” Kimberly whispered like it was some big secret.

  “It’s really good. Thank you.” Becca swallowed the last of it and glanced around to try to find Michael, making sure he wasn’t getting into any mischief he should be avoiding.

  “We won’t have time to stay afterward for the crumble…also one of my favorites. Dessert-anything, really.”

  “Like your sweets, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t look like this if I didn’t.”

  Becca gave her a puzzled look. “Look like what?”

  “Fat.”

  The word clung to the air in the room. While Kimberly hadn’t said it as a curse or accusation, the word left all that in its wake. Becca touched Kimberly’s arm briefly, unsure what to say. She gave her a sorrowful look, one with pity and disbelief, but words wouldn’t come to her.

  “What? It’s true. I’m fat. I’m old. I’m not exactly nice. Wonder why I’m still the single one with not even one date in the last year, and he’s the one out there with a new boyfriend every week? I don’t.”

  “I don’t for one second believe that.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by a loud bang. Michael’s sobs echoed a second later. Both Kimberly and Becca twisted sharply toward the noise to find Michael clutching his hand, his face turning red and tears streaming down his cheeks.

  Kimberly raced over to him and wrapped him in her arms. Becca moved over, touching his hand to check it as Kimberly continued to soothe and calm him down.

  “I just… I just hurt my fingers,” Michael made out as soon as he was calm enough to talk.

  “Did you slam them in the cabinet?” Kimberly asked.

  “Yes!” His answer sent him in another flurry of sobs.

  Kimberly hugged him tight, but the door opened with someone calling her name. Becca shifted to take over as Kimberly stood. It didn’t take her too long to calm Michael completely. She lifted him into her arms, and he curled into her. Kimberly came back and pressed a hand to his cheek.

  “Mama has to go do some work now, okay, kiddo? I’ll be back soon. You can watch on the TV in the room, if you want.”

  “Watch you on TV?”

  “Yeah! If you want to.”

  He nodded and wiped his eyes again. “I wanna watch.”

  “Becca can take you in there and watch too.”

  “Okay. You go to work now?”

  “I do have to go to work now. I’ll see you in a little bit, then we’ll go to another one of mama’s jobs.”

  “Okay.”

  * * * *

  It took another three hours before they were able to leave, but Kimberly found herself once again sitting in silence in the back seat of an SUV with nothing other than a car seat and sleeping child separating her from Becca. Michael had passed out as soon as they’d turned onto the highway, surely the excitement from the day overwhelming him.

  Forty-five minutes later, they pulled up at a local culinary school. The morning had gone better than expected, but the afternoon was what was going to take a long time. She could only hope Michael would be able to behave through it. At least this job would be more laid back than the previous one.

  She relaxed as best she could, gathering herself and her energy for what was to come next. She must have dozed off, because a hand on her arm and a soft voice calling her name woke her up. When she flitted her eyes open, Becca’s baby blues stared at her.

  “We’re here,” Becca whispered. “He’s still out.”

  “Wonderful. He’s not usually very much fun when he wakes up.”

  Becca hummed her agreement. Kimberly reached for the buckles on the car seat and unhooked them, jarring Michael from his sleep. He jerked, eyes popping open, then he stretched and groaned.

&nb
sp; “We there yet?”

  “Yeah, baby, we’re here.”

  He strained his neck to look outside the window. “You work here?”

  “Yup. I’m working here today.”

  Becca climbed out of the car as Kimberly helped Michael down. They went inside, Becca following close behind as Kimberly led the way. She got to the large classroom, and her nerves shot through the roof again. There was a reason why she preferred to be in her kitchen and on television. Fewer people.

  She did not boast the best personality for dealing with crowds, and it had taken her a long time to learn how to teach well and effectively. She wasn’t the most personable chef out there, which made each of these demonstrations—or talk shows, or interviews—that much harder. She had to be on her best behavior and really hold her tongue.

  The room was empty of an audience when they all walked in, but Kimberly knew they were in the right place. The lights were on, and there were people up front around the kitchen on the stage, working and preparing. One woman in a button-up blazer approached with her hand held out.

  “Kim Burns, good to meet you finally. I’m Jessica Reims.”

  “Ah, yes. Good to meet you, too.”

  “This is where you’ll be cooking today. I’m sure you’ll want to walk through and get everything set as you want it. Feel free… The room and the kitchen are yours. Kyla here will be your sous chef, so if you need anything during the demonstration, ask her and she will get it or do it for you.”

  “Hi, Kyla,” Kimberly said as she held her hand out in a greeting.

  “Chef,” Kyla responded. “I always have admired watching you cook.”

  “Well, thank you,” Kimberly answered, her cheeks flushing with a slight burn. Compliments like that always surprised her. She knew she was a decent cook, but some people made it out to be as if she was one of the best, and even with all her years of experience, she wasn’t sure she agreed with that. “This is my son, Michael, and his nanny, Becca. They wanted to join today and see a bit of what my work is all about.”

  Becca gave a small smile, but Michael was beaming. Kimberly put her mind to the work in front of her and entered the kitchen. She put pots and pans exactly where she wanted them, moving the tomatoes and pasta from one side of the kitchen to the other. She was supposed to showcase the new pots and pans. She’d been cooking with them for a month to test them, and while they were nice in some ways, they were not in others. But she was being paid to promote them, so that was what she would do.

  The pans were heavy, so lifting them with her healing wrist was going to be a problem. Grimacing as she moved yet another large pot, she gave in to the inevitable. Turning to Kyla, she rolled her eyes. “I’m gimpy. I’m probably going to need your help lifting this when it’s full during the demo.”

  “Anything you need, Chef.”

  “Thanks. I’m such a klutz.”

  “We all are sometimes.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  Loud laughter shook her. Kimberly turned her head and narrowed her eyes against the light to see where it had come from. It was so familiar, the trill echoing in her mind. She made out Becca’s form in the first few rows if she put her hand over her eyes to block out the spotlights. Becca was sitting, laughing with Jessica.

  A pang of jealousy shot into her belly. Grunting, Kimberly tamped it down. It was stupid. Becca was her nanny, that was all, and she had no right to be jealous. She did, however, have the right to be angry if she was paying attention to some woman instead of her son, which was the whole purpose of having Becca there.

  Anger boiled in her belly instead of jealousy, and she let it simmer as she continued to work, listening in on what she could hear of the conversation. It was mostly a normal one. Jessica was explaining how everything worked, how they’d gotten in touch with Kimberly’s agent to see if she would even be interested in something like this and how they went about setting up the event. Michael would pop in a question every once in a while, and Jessica took the time to answer him sweetly, but it was obvious her main concern was Becca.

  Kimberly’s anger roiled a little more. Becca would tag on to the questions, explaining what Kimberly would be doing. It warmed her heart to hear how attentive Becca was to Michael. In fact, it made her feel something she hadn’t in a very long time. Swallowing, Kimberly focused on the kitchen in front of her. They only had thirty more minutes before the doors would open, and she would need to be hidden away in the back.

  Jessica came to fetch her before she knew it was time. She, Becca and Michael were led to a small conference room, where they would wait until the demo began. Kimberly grabbed hold of her chef’s jacket that she had brought with her and headed to the bathroom to change.

  With the door locked, she leaned over the bathroom sink, wishing she could splash ice cold water all over her face but knowing her makeup would be ruined, and that would be a disaster because she didn’t know how to fix it. Sighing, Kimberly attempted to breathe out, the rage still boiling in the pit of her stomach. She would talk to Becca about it later. Right now, she had to focus in order to get through this demo, had to hold her tongue and talk through her filters. Breathe. She must breathe.

  Dressing, Kimberly checked her hair before heading down to the conference room. Becca and Michael were having a mini dance party to some music blasting from her phone. Joy bubbled up in her as Michael came over, grabbed her hands and started to dance awkwardly with her. Kimberly twisted down then back up, laughing as there was a knock on the door.

  “Ready, Chef?”

  “Yeah,” Kimberly answered.

  “They’re about to do introductions.”

  Nodding, Kimberly straightened her chef’s jacket and kissed Michael’s cheek. “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck, Mama! You’re the bestest cook in the whole wide universe.”

  “Thanks, kiddo.”

  The next hour seemed to vanish before it began. Everything had stayed calm, the marinara and pasta had been cooked and shared, Kyla had been a necessary and helpful resource and Becca and Michael had managed to sneak in and out a few times. Kimberly had known because she could hear his chattering as he asked Becca questions.

  As they were on their way out—Michael tired from the long day and Kimberly trying to remember if she had everything she’d brought—Jessica stopped them. “It went wonderful today, Kim. Thank you for coming. I truly hope you’ll join us again.”

  “I would love to,” she answered, her eyes crinkling into a smile. “I enjoyed it. The audience had some great questions.”

  “They did for sure.” Jessica turned to Becca and blushed.

  Kimberly tensed. Michael was unaware as he pulled on her hand, trying to convince her it was time to leave already.

  “Here. It’s my number. If you…you know…want to call me sometime, maybe get a drink.”

  “I—” Becca stuttered. “Thank you.” Her cheeks were as red as Jessica’s, if not more. She took the proffered paper and tucked it into her back pocket.

  Kimberly’s rage boiled. What just happened was completely inappropriate. She turned to Michael, focusing her body and gaze on him so she wouldn’t make an outburst. Becca was already headed down the hall toward the exit, so Kimberly nodded at Michael, and they made to follow.

  The ride home was tense. Kimberly let her anger build. As soon as they were home and Michael was in bed, she would have a chat with Becca. What had happened could not happen again—otherwise, she wouldn’t have a job. When the driver pulled up to the house, another car blocked the drive. Michael was asleep. Kimberly strained her neck to see who was at the house and cursed.

  “Bradley’s here,” she muttered.

  “What on earth for?” Becca countered.

  “Who knows?”

  “I can get the car seat if you need Michael for the distraction.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kimberly let out a breath, shifted her son into her arms and headed into the house, forgetting to even think about her
conversation with Becca. Bradley was already inside when she opened the door. He went to speak, but Kimberly shot him a glare and he quieted down. The hour was late, and Michael would no doubt need to go straight to bed. She took him into his room, changed him as he stood half-awake then put him back down.

  When she got to the kitchen, Becca was nowhere to be found and Bradley sat at the counter with a snifter in his hand. She heaved a breath and asked, “Why are you here?”

  “I came to check on your wrist.”

  “My wrist is fine. Why are you really here?”

  “You like her.”

  Kimberly’s lips thinned in displeasure. “Quit the bullshit.”

  “She’s your type. You’ve always liked them leggy.”

  “Why are you so obnoxious?” Kimberly reached for his glass and stole it, downing the rest of the liquid. “Thanks.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Really, though. How is your wrist?”

  “Sore.”

  “You’re doing too much.”

  “I need to work.”

  “You can afford to take time off.”

  “Financially, yes, I can. But this isn’t about money. It never was.”

  He hummed and took her wrist in his hand. “Ice it tonight and try to take it easy tomorrow. Let it heal right. You don’t want to make it worse on you in the long run.”

  “I know. You’re still on for next weekend, right?” Kimberly’s heart warmed at his concern, reminding her of who he’d once been.

  “Absolutely. Got everything planned out.”

  “No dates?”

  “I’ve got a date, tonight and tomorrow.”

  Kimberly snorted. “You always have a date.”

  “I do. I like it that way.”

  She shook her head as he grinned, the dimple in his cheek melting her like it always did. He was charming in every way, and it served him well.

  “What’s got you all in a tizzy today?” he asked as he poured them another drink.

  Kimberly shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “What is it?”