After taking post-pool showers, Shawn and I took a Lyft to the medical office building where my ER orthopedist had her practice. Given how much better I was feeling, I was fairly confident I'd get good news.
The doctor was indeed pleased with how my ankle looked, though she insisted on another x-ray just to make sure a hairline fracture hadn't been missed before. There was no break, and I was moved into a smaller boot-splint that I could wear with my running shoes without needing crutches. I was cleared to go home!
Andrew had already arranged for us to fly back that night on a red-eye, though we could have changed the flight if the doctor's appointment had not gone well. We had a non-stop flight on Air Canada leaving at 10:15 PM and arriving in Toronto before 6:00 AM. As much as I'd liked my monthlong adventure, I was dying to see my parents again. I called them and told them my flight details, and they said they'd meet me at the airport.
Before heading to LAX, Shawn surprised me with dinner at Nobu. He knew I'd been disappointed that my ankle had spoiled the planned night out there. I'd actually been more bummed for the team missing out than for myself. I didn't say that, because I could tell he was really happy doing this for me.
I wore a simple sundress to showcase the bit of tan I'd gotten earlier, which looked slightly ridiculous with sneakers, and I had my hair down. I hadn't curled it since standing on my ankle for a long time hurt. Shawn looked very handsome in a burgundy button down and his tight black jeans. I often wondered how many pairs of those jeans he owned.
We were seated at a table in a corner towards the back. I was off my pain pills, so I opted to get a cocktail, as did Shawn. The menu consisted of "cold" and "hot" items. Instead of each picking something as an entree, Shawn insisted that we order several from each category to share. We had octopus wasabi salsa, king crab tempura, crispy rice with spicy tuna, and lobster sweet and sour. We also sampled the truffle butter wagyu. The food was absolutely amazing, and I wondered if I could recreate any of it at home. Japanese cooking was not a strength of mine, but I loved the idea of expanding my repertoire.
Shawn had not mentioned Kat once in the last few days. After a couple glasses of sake (on top of my cocktail), I found myself dying to know where they stood.
Since we'd hooked up, I'd been lying to myself about having any feelings for my boss. It wasn't professional. More than that, falling for Shawn Mendes would definitely lead to heartbreak for me.
Yes, he was attracted to me. He'd made that clear. Paige had been right all along, though I'd never tell her that since that night was forever remaining a secret. Attraction wasn't love, though. It was superficial. What I felt for him was more than that, which was why I refused to acknowledge it.
As I'd gotten to know him, I'd learned what a sweet, generous, thoughtful person he was. Watching him in musician mode during the past month made me respect his creativity. His talent was also extremely attractive. And sexy (as if he wasn't sexy enough already). I found everything about him stimulating, from his wide variety of smiles to the way his hair flipped forward when he played guitar. I could stare at him for hours, though I made sure not to.
It had really hurt that he'd gotten back together with Kat so soon after we'd connected. That proved to me that I was just a dalliance. We'd made a mistake and he'd moved on. I'd been trying to move on, too. Well, other than by fucking him in my dreams, but that was out of my control.
I still couldn't help but ask the big question.
"What's going on with you and Kat?"
His eyebrows raised in surprise, and he hesitated a moment before responding. He obviously wasn't expecting me to pose this question as we sampled the wagyu in front of us.
"Kat and I are done, actually."
"Oh. Really?" I tried not to smile. "You've said that before."
"I mean it. We're over for real this time. I'm not sure why it took me so long to accept that she's not the one for me."
I wanted to agree with him out loud, but I bit my tongue. It wasn't my place to tell him I'd known she was a horrible shrew from the moment I'd met her and that he could do so much better.
Shawn was apparently a mind reader.
"I know how she can come across, Chelsea. Believe me, I was fully aware that she was controlling, manipulative, and petty at times," he said.
"But?" I asked.
"But she can be very sweet in private, even though she puts up a very harsh persona to the world. Kat clawed her way out of nothing. Her family was poor and she pushed until she got noticed on Instagram. Then she got a modeling contract and has had lots of success. She's afraid that if she comes across as nice, she'll get walked all over. The fear of losing everything she's earned has hardened her. When she lets her guard down, she's a different person."
"I'm glad to hear that."
"She was at her worst around you because of her jealousy. Just so you know, she was prickly around my family, too. And around my team."
"Was there anyone in your life she showed the softer side to?" I questioned.
"We went out with my friends a few times and after a couple drinks she loosened up. Andrew has seen that side of her, too. So did my parents once they got to know her. So no, she's not universally a bitch."
The conversation ended there.
By the time we boarded the plane, I was stuffed and sleepy. Shawn must have been, too, because he was sound asleep before we even took off.
I awoke with a start when the wheels touched the runway at Pearson. I was leaned against Shawn with my head on his shoulder. I turned and looked at him, assuming he was still out. He smiled down at me. So embarrassing, but at least I wasn't having a sex dream about him this time.
"Sorry!" I said as I sat up.
"It's fine, Chels. I didn't mind at all."
We exited the plane and found the wheelchair Andrew had arranged to be waiting for me. Shawn wheeled me to the baggage claim area. When I spotted my parents, I waved to them and they ran over. I introduced them to Shawn, and they thanked him profusely for taking such good care of me. Shawn's cheeks turned pink and he waved off all the accolades explaining that he felt responsible for me.
My dad grabbed my bags and headed for the door. My mom took over the wheelchair, though she stayed put since it would take a few minutes for my dad to pull the car around.
"Take as much time as you need to heal," Shawn said, squatting down so that he was on my eye level. "I'll be waiting for you."
Something about the way he said that made my heart do a massive flip flop in my chest.
"I'll let you know when I can stand in the kitchen again. I wish I could cook sitting down, because then you wouldn't be left to fend for yourself."
He chuckled. "I got by for years before you came on board. I'll be okay."
Funny, I didn't feel the same way. I was going to miss my job.
An idea came to me.
"You know, this could be an opportunity for you to learn how to cook. I could sit at the counter and give you lessons."
Shawn's face broke into a huge smile. "You'd be willing to do that?"
"You've been in the kitchen with me enough that you know the basics. I could definitely direct you from a chair. It could be fun," I explained.
Shawn stood up. "Give yourself a couple days of rest and then we'll start. Although if I get really good at cooking, you might be out of a job."
It occurred to me that this was actually ideal. I'd be leaving to start my restaurant eventually anyway, so teaching him to cook on his own was perfect.
"It's not like I'm going to be your chef forever," I said.
A sad look flickered across his face before my mom started pushing my wheelchair towards the door after getting a text from my dad that he was out front.
When we got inside the car, my mom started chuckling.
"What?" I asked.
"It's just very amusing to watch the two of you."
"Meaning what exactly?"
"I'm not elaborating because you always get annoyed when I say certain things, but my guess is that you'll know soon enough."