Chapter 51: Burned Hand

Just before noon—

"Snail Girl!" Lucas Zeller's thunderous shout boomed from his office, filtering through the slats of the blinds into the nearby break room. The sudden noise startled Claire Grace, who was in the middle of pouring hot water for coffee. Her hand jerked, and the scalding water spilled onto the back of her right hand. The sharp pain seared into her skin, and in her shock, she instinctively dropped the half-filled coffee cup.

The shattering sound of the glass hitting the floor rang out clearly, reaching Lucas's ears.

He had been reclining in his chair, eyes closed, taking a brief moment to rest, but the sound made his expression harden instantly. Within seconds, he was out of his chair and bolting out of his office.

The door to the break room flew open with a bang. Claire, tears welling in her eyes, was trying to blow on the back of her hand, which had turned red and swollen from the burn. The moment she saw Lucas storm in with fury written across his face, she froze in place.

"How can you be so clumsy? You can't even make a cup of coffee without burning yourself?" he scolded angrily, striding over to her with long, quick steps. He reached out to grab her wrist, but she suddenly crouched down, attempting to clean up the broken ceramic pieces on the floor.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Zeller, I'll clean it up right away."

What the hell? She was burned, and she was still worried about cleaning up the mess? Lucas could hardly believe it. Was this girl trying to drive him mad? The frustration bubbling inside him made him want to knock some sense into her—literally.

"Stand up!" he barked, yanking her up by her collar. He snatched the broken pieces out of her hand and set them on the counter. Turning back, he took hold of her wrist, inspecting the burn on the back of her hand.

"Mr. Zeller, it's nothing serious. I—"

"Shut up!" Lucas snapped. Her hand was swollen and red, practically like a pig's trotter, and she was still saying it was fine? "Say another word, and I'll leave you here to suffer!" he threatened, but his actions belied his harsh tone. The way he cradled her hand was as gentle as if he were holding something precious and fragile.

Ugh, why was he being so mean? Claire pouted in frustration. *I'm the one in pain here, not you!*

"Does it hurt?" Lucas asked, though as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how stupid the question was. Of course it hurt—her hand was swollen and red. "Were you half asleep while making coffee? How else could you burn yourself?"

Claire saw the stern look on his face, his jaw set in an unyielding line. He looked seriously upset.

"Mr. Zeller, it's really not that bad," she muttered quietly, trying to gauge his mood.

Lucas glared at her for a moment before suddenly ordering, "Go sit in my office. I'll be right back." Without waiting for her response, he turned and disappeared out the door.

*****

Claire slumped onto the couch in Lucas's office, leaning to one side with her right hand dangling over the edge. Her eyes kept darting toward the door.

He had said he'd be right back, but twenty minutes had passed, and there was still no sign of him.

Where had he gone? It was lunchtime, and the office was unusually quiet. The only noise breaking the silence was the occasional grumble from her stomach.

Ugh, didn't he realize people get hungry? Plus, lying on the couch like this was way too comfortable. She felt so sleepy…

In fact, the moment that thought crossed her mind, her eyelids began to droop, and before she knew it, they were already meeting in a cozy embrace.