It had been a few days since Rhett had texted him the day he could come over for dinner, taking space and time for them to recollect themselves from their last conversation. He’d asked the assistant manager to handle J2 for the night. Though he hated delegating closing detail to them, he knew Javan was busy with the restaurant end of the business. Jadon’s grill had only been used twice before with mixed results. Tonight he thought he would give it a go again, but he kept his phone tucked into the apron he wore in case he needed to call a fire department or pizza, probably in that order. When the doorbell rang, Jadon pulled it open with a smile and an apology already on his lips. “Rhett, I’m not going to lie, this grilled lemon butter salmon thing is either going to go right or wrong... I don’t think there’s going to be an in between.”