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“A disaster? What do you mean?”

She stepped back from the doorway. “Could you come? I’m begging you.”

“Begging is wholly unnecessary. Of course I’ll come.” Grabbing her purse, Emily followed Shay and hopped into the golf cart beside her.

In the kitchen of the round barn, Nevers was nowhere to be found. The food, half-prepared, lay scattered on the countertop. The smell of something smoking in the oven wafted to them and Shay hurried to pull it out before the smoke filled the kitchen.

“Where is he?” Emily asked, not seeing any sign of him.

Shay pointed to a desk on the other side of the room and Emily walked hesitantly over there. She bent down. There, under the desk, Gary Nevers was curled, chugging from a bottle of wine and turning a desperate look at her. His face was covered in sweat, and he was breathing as if he’d just run a mile.

“I can’t,” was all he managed to say.

“What?”

“I… I can’t.”

She crouched down beside him, reached out, and touched his arm. “I can see that. What is it, Mr. Nevers? Are you quite unwell?”

He nodded, then shook his head. “I’m… unable to cook.”

“Should we call a doctor? Perhaps wine isn’t the—”

“It’s my nerves. It’s a… a p-p-panic attack.”

“Oh, dear. What can I do? A paper bag, perhaps? Can you slow your breathing down?”

He just took another swig.

Shay was beside her then.

Whispering to her, she said, “Our guests will be her in two hours. I’mfreakingout.”

“Don’t you freak out, too. We can handle this. I’m sure of it.” She turned back to Nevers. “Perhaps if you had some help? I could help you. Tara’s offered as well. We could just turn things around here. Get it all under control.”

He wiped his face with the back of his white chef’s coat sleeve. “I-I-I don’t know.”

“I know you’re feeling a little bleak right now, but I promise, it will be all right. Try to get your breathing back to normal.”

He nodded, trying.

She held out her hand to him. “Come out from under there, Mr. Nevers. Come on, now. We’ll fix this.”

He reached for her hand. His was clammy and damp with sweat.

He climbed out and stood before her, setting the mostly empty bottle on the counter. “What you must think of me now.”

Facing Emily, Shay rolled her eyes in confirmation.

“I’m a loser.”

But Emily shook her head and patted his arm “I don’t think anything of the sort, Mr. Nevers. You are not the first person to deal with anxiety, with panic attacks. And you won’t be the last. All I think is that we had better get this going now so it’s ready in time for the reception. Shay, perhaps Tara would be free to help us?”

“I’ll go get her right now.”

“Wonderful.” She took Nevers by the arm and led him back to the prep area. “Now. Deep breath. Let’s go.”

*