Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

My gaze stops on the oscillating fan shoved in the corner. This apartment doesn’t have central air
and I roast in the summer. The only thing that keeps me from dying of heat exhaustion is probably that
fan.
Which happens to have a long metal bar I could use like a bat.
Decision made, I push off the bed and cross the room to dismantle my fan. I pop the bar out of the
base and take off the motor and the blades. Once it’s just a metal bar, I practice holding it menacingly
like a baseball bat, then ease my bedroom door open and creep out into the hall.
I hear more noise now including something that sounds like… a sizzle?
What is that amazing smell?
Confused, I round the corner to my kitchen, but just in case it is someone dangerous, I prepare to
swing the bat.
Chef Ryan is standing at my stove, cooking. He turns around, appears startled when he sees me
wielding my makeshift weapon, then says cautiously, “Good morning.”
I sag, dropping my makeshift bat to my side and releasing a sigh of relief.
Seeming to realize I didn’t expect him to be here, he says, “Hollis let me in, said you were still
asleep. I take it Calvin decided to surprise you.”
“Yes, he likes to do that,” I murmur, glancing at the grocery bags and kitchen accoutrements on
my counter. A couple of things aren’t mine.
Chef Ryan gestures to the counter. “He left you a note, it’s in the gift bag.”
I leave my metal bar propped against the wall and walk over to grab the black envelope sticking
out of the gold gift bag. It’s a high quality envelope, the fancy kind with rich gold lining like a
wedding invitation, but it’s just a personal note card. In what I assume must be Calvin’s handwriting,
it reads, “Good morning, sweetheart. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up, but I have to
work to pay for those lavish dates you so enjoy.”
I roll my eyes at his teasing, then read the rest.
“Chef Ryan is preparing you breakfast and lunch so you can concentrate on whatever else you
have to do today. I know how much you dislike cooking.”
Reluctantly, my lips tug upward a bit. I’m glad he isn’t here to see it.
The last of it reads, “If you want dinner, you can come to my place and he’ll make it for both of
us. I can send Hollis to pick you up.” Beneath that is a decisive dash and his name, as if this craziness
could be from literally anyone else.
Lifting my gaze, I assure Chef Ryan, “You do not have to stay to make me lunch. I really
appreciate you making me breakfast, but that’s absurd. He’s ridiculous.”
Chef Ryan smiles at me over his shoulder. “No worries, I don’t have to stay. I’ll prep you a nice