A Touch Of Love. Sheryl Lister

very much left.”

      Lexia groaned, dug out a to-go container and filled it with a slice. She held it up for Sam’s approval. “Happy?”

      “Khalil will be.”

      “I’ll be in my office.” Once there, she placed the container on her desk and dropped down into her chair. Brandon had flipped the conversation and handled her with such finesse she didn’t realize what happened until it was too late. “The man is probably ruthless in a boardroom,” she muttered, and rotated her chair to her computer.

      After two hours, Lexia leaned back and thought about how to manage the visit with Khalil. No doubt he would still be very angry and frustrated. How would he react to her visit? Would he ignore her as he’d done his family? Maybe she should tell Brandon it might be better if she waited to visit. She drummed her fingers on the desk for a moment then reached for her cell phone to send a text to Elyse. She filled her friend in on the explosion, Khalil’s injury and hearing loss and asked for some advice on what to do. She set the phone aside and turned her attention to the revised menu she had been working on.

      The phone chimed with a text a while later and Lexia picked it up.

      Elyse: I’m so sorry to hear about Khalil. Don’t approach him like you and Janice did with me.

      Lexia: I don’t understand.

      Elyse: The ‘oh, you poor thing’ approach. I’m sure he has enough people doing that. Be yourself, Lexi, and talk to him the same way you did last week. He needs to know that he’s still the same, in spite of what’s happened.

      Lexia: Thanks. :)

      Elyse: Let me know how it goes.

      Lexia: I will.

      “Lexia, Samantha wants to know if you can come out front for a few minutes. She has to deliver a lunch order upstairs.”

      Lexia’s head came up. “Sure, Jayla. Tell her I’ll be right there.” She placed her cell in the drawer, saved the changes on her file and closed it and donned her apron.

      She took orders and delivered food for the next forty-five minutes until the lunch rush had passed and only a handful of customers remained. She started back to the kitchen with an armload of empty plates and stopped short upon seeing Brandon entering. “Hey, Brandon. Give me a minute.”

      Brandon stepped to the side so she could pass. “No problem.”

      Lexia placed the dishes in the dishpan and poked her head around the industrial-size refrigerator to speak to the chef. “Mr. Willis, I’ll be gone for about an hour and a half. If there is something you need to add to the inventory list, just leave it on my desk if I’m not back by the time you leave.”

      Mr. Willis stuck his bearded face around the door. “You going to get supplies?”

      “No. Visit a friend in the hospital.”

      He paused. “That fella you were sitting with that got hurt the other day?”

      “Yes.” He scrutinized her with an intensity that almost made her squirm.

      He wagged a thick finger her way. “You be careful. I don’t want to see you going through the same mess again.”

      Lexia smiled. This man had been a fixture in her life since she was a teen and was another inspiration on her journey to become a chef. She remembered him telling her, “Cooking up something that tastes good always makes you feel better.” Over the years, he’d added some girth around his middle and a few lines bracketed his light brown face, but his warm smile had not changed. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “See you in a bit.”

      She stopped by her office to get the coffee cake and her purse. As she lifted it from the drawer, she spotted Khalil’s phone and picked it up. She’d totally forgotten about it. On her way out, she passed the small mirror hanging on the wall and realized she still had on the apron and hairnet.