Chapter 1 - THE HAND OVER THE FIRE

Daniel Mercer locked both hands around my wrist and forced my burned palm toward the glowing charcoal grate.

The guests kept laughing.

At first, they thought he was joking.

A summer drink sweated in Evelyn Mercer’s hand as she watched her son bend my arm over the grill. Her pearl necklace rested perfectly against her blue-and-white floral dress. Nothing about her expression changed when the heat reached my skin.

“Apologize,” Daniel said.

My blonde hair had come loose from its tie. Sweat ran down my temple and into my eye. The cream floral dress I had put on that morning was stained with barbecue sauce, grease, and ash from six hours of cooking for people who had barely looked at me except to demand something.

“For what?” I managed.

Daniel tightened his grip.

“For embarrassing me in front of my partners.”

The metal spatula slipped from my other hand and struck the patio stones.

I had not embarrassed him.

I had asked why one of his business associates had called me “the help.”

That was all.

The men near the buffet table grinned into their drinks. Two women whispered behind manicured hands. Someone muttered that Daniel had always known how to keep his wife in line.