Page 11 of You Chive Me Crazy
I cringed at the thought of my future depending on Lucas.
“As much as I hate to admit it, you were right,” I said. “It looks like Imayhave a mild concussion.”
I figured that was a good place to start the conversation before I eased my way into the part about us being fake-hitched. Maybe his ego would like the part about being right and then he would cut me some slack on the rest.
Lucas stared at me like I was the board on the TV game showJeopardyand he couldn’t decide which category to choose.
I’ll take lunatics for one $1000, Alex.
“Dr. Bonebrake did a bunch of tests . . . vision, hearing, balance, coordination, stuff like that,” I continued. “And since I have the mother of all headaches, he did a CAT scan to make sure I didn’t have a serious injury, bleeding, or swelling. Thank God I have none of the above.”
More staring from Lucas, but with stronger scrutiny this time, almost as if he knew I was stalling for time or trying to butter him up.
I was tempted to reach over to see if he had a pulse, but I didn’t think touching him was such a smart move at this point.
“Isn’t that great news?” I asked in as optimistic and friendly a voice as I could muster. “Anyway, I—”
Lucas held up a finger, looking like the blood had finally returned to his brain. “Can we just go back to the part where we’re supposed to be married? Explain how that happened exactly, because I seem to have inadvertently missed the nuptials.”
“Right. That.” I tried to come up with an explanation that sounded reasonable. “It’s kind of funny, actually. And it’s no big deal, if you really think about it. Dr. Bonebrake said he would release me to a family member or loved one. Naturally, since you were the knight in shining armor who rescued me—”
“You said you didn’t need a knight in shining armor,” Lucas was quick to interrupt.
I shrugged. “Yeah, well . . . apparently, I do. And since you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a family member, you are my ticket out of here. End of story.”
“It’snotthe end of the story because I would be liable for you,” Lucas said. “You’re not a library book where I can just pay a fee and be done with you if you end up with a broken spine.”
“What are you talking about?” I said. “This place needs a paper trail to satisfy the suits so they don’t get sued if something happens to me after I walk out the door. And, to be perfectly clear, nothing will happen since I’m already feeling much better. Please. I’m asking you to help me get out of this joint. Besides, you owe me.”
“Ioweyou?” Lucas said. “Seriously? You’re going to play that card?”
“Yes. I am. Even if I don’t count your traitorous ways of the past, you brought me here against my will.”
“I amsosorry I was concerned about your wellbeing by putting your health above everything else, including anything that was going on in my own life. I’ll try my best to be more inconsiderate and selfish in the future.”
I rolled my eyes. “The only thing the doctor is going to do is tell me to take it easy for a few days. I could have figured that out on my own. He doesn’t even know for sure that I have a concussion. He said I showedprobablesignsof a concussion. Please, Lucas. Help me out just this once. The food truck festival is the most important thing in my life right now.”
“Why are you so desperate to sellspuds?”
“You don’t need to sound so condescending,” I defended. “My baked potatoes will melt in your mouth. They are the best thing you’ll ever eat in your life. The secret is that I baste them with a special marinade while they are roasting. And then, of course, my homemade gourmet sauces are to die for.”
“Impossible—gourmet potato is practically an oxymoron,” Lucas said. “If you want to turn me on with starches, you’ll have to talk pasta.”
“Don’t knock my potatoes until you’ve tried them,” I said. “On second thought, stay away from them. The last thing I need is a heartless, scathing review from you, like the one you gave that poor chicken place. That was just mean spirited.”
“So, you’re reading my reviews, are you?” Lucas asked.
I ignored his activated ego. “You were vengeful and unrealistic. You sounded like a jaded old curmudgeon who was only looking to overemphasize the negative to get attention. No food could be that bad. Did you leave that night feeling quite superior? Didn’t your mother ever teach you to be nice?”
Lucas cocked his head to the side. “My mother taught me to speak my mind. She also taught me it’s not wise to criticize people while you’re asking them for a favor.”
He was right, but the man had me so riled up I could spit.
“Sorry, but I’m under a lot of pressure right now.” I sighed, deciding I had nothing to lose. “Okay, this is confidential, but I’m selling the entire concept of Potato Heaven to investors who are going to turn it into a food truck franchise. I’m talking about hundreds of my baked potato trucks across the country. They’re going to be at the food festival to try my food and comb through my franchise operating plan and feasibility study. It’s imperative that I impress them and win them over.”
“If you’re so confident that your potatoes are the best thing to hit the culinary world, why are you so worried?” Lucas asked. “What’s the problem?”
“I’mthe problem,” I admitted. “Even though I have been very successful, I’m nervous, and maybe even slightly paranoid. It’s just that I seem to attract disaster wherever I go. Please help me. I just need to get out of here as soon as possible.”
