I can’t help but look Knox’s way when Dean Ellerson is introduced. He’s staring straight at her, not even blinking. Her dazzling smile is just as bright as I remember. She was made for the camera. Knox’s frown is just as it was during our many strife-filled meetings with her, deep and intimidating. His eye color ice blue.
Knox Everheart is angry.
*
The first competition is making a meal for four people for under twenty-five dollars. Two courses, a main and dessert. The pantries are stocked with everything a professional chef could possibly need, but price tags are attached. They have an hour and a half.
My mind races through the endless possibilities of what I would make. Then I think about what the Everhearts will create. Knox cooks with passion but is impulsive. Paired with Declan’s penchant for originality and it’s anyone’s guess what they’ll come up with. Weston will play it safe with his dessert, especially during the first competition.
The Smiths are politely speaking to each other, no hurry, no fuss. It’s difficult to tell who the leader is, because they’re just so nice to each other, everyone having input. Their communication is what makes them dangerous. If a team doesn’t communicate in the kitchen, they’re set up for failure.
Unless you’re an Everheart; they can read each other’s every thought. I shift my focus back to them, and my brain flutters. Knox’s eyes are aquamarine—focused—and seeing him standing over a mound of flour, cracking eggs within its well, takes me back to our first year.
I’d walked into my first cooking class, and there he stood. Tall, dark curly hair well past the collar of his coat, crystalline topaz eyes, tanned skin like he’d just come from the beach. He looked at me, and we held that look until another student bumped into me in passing. I blushed furiously and found my name tacked on the station across from this beautiful chiseled Greek god. We made pasta that day, and it would go on to become his specialty although it isn’t served in his father’s restaurant for some strange reason. At the time, I only knew him to be the finest man I’d ever laid eyes on. I was just out of high school so it’s not like I’d had a ton of exposure, but I knew real beauty when I saw it.
When the class ended, I made for the door, and he followed me out, turning in the same direction. Not surprising considering it was a small-ish school and we were on the same track.
The god spoke. “Looks like we have the next class together. American Lit?”
I took a deep breath, calming my nerves. “Yes.” I probably didn’t need the breath for that bit of nonsense. I rolled my eyes and tried again. “I guess I have the first-day jitters. You really seem to have an aptitude for pasta already. Mine was a glutenous mess.”
He laughed and it was a magical sound. One that I could get lost in all the days of my life. “My mother was from Italy, and she taught me from when I was very little.”
Hmmm was. Should I have just guessed she died and offered condolences? Then again, maybe she ran off with the milkman. This is where being an introvert all my life had gotten me; I couldn’t even have a simple conversation without exuding awkwardness.
Along with mastering pasta on the first day of culinary school and being the most handsome boy in the universe, he was a pretty good judge of character and saved me. He offered me a slightly crooked smile, sadness marked all over it. “She passed away several years ago, but I haven’t forgotten anything she taught me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged and pulled a pack of gummy bears out of his pocket, offering me some. I took one out of politeness, but I hated the way those sticky, chewy candies felt against my teeth. We arrived at our next class. The door was open and we crossed through. “Thank you. I still have my dad and two brothers, and I’m grateful for that. How about you? Where’re you from?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but before I did, he said, “I’m sorry. You have the most beautiful amber eyes.” He pulled at his bottom lip—a most sexy gesture. “Please continue. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It’s okay. Thanks.” My skin heated until I was sure the chestnut turned russet. I’ve never been one for taking compliments well. “I live with my mother and little brother. My parents are divorced but my father is close by. I’m from Round Rock, it’s a suburb of Austin. How about you?”
He furrowed his brow and tilted his head. “Are you Rowan Townsend?”
I matched his furrowed brow and pursed my lips. I was thoroughly confused how someone like him could possibly know my name. Then my eyes widened in surprise and recognition, having had trouble reconciling what I’d heard from my mother about him and the person who stood in front of me. Next, I clenched my jaw in anger. This was the golden boy who cheated his way in. “Knox Everheart.”
Shrimp Louie Salad
1 cup mayonnaise
1/3 cup + 1 tbsp ketchup
1/4 cup sour cream
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp apple cider vinegar
1 tsp brown sugar
1 tsp paprika
1 pinch kosher salt
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
3 tbsp olive oil
1 pound large shrimp, peeled and deveined
1/2 tsp Old Bay Seasoning
1 avocado diced
8 oz cherry tomatoes halved
1 head romaine lettuce, washed and roughly chopped
4 large eggs, hard boiled and sliced in half
Whisk together the first 9 ingredients in a bowl until smooth. Refrigerate until later. Heat oil in a skillet over medium-high heat and add shrimp, sprinkling Old Bay Seasoning on top. Cook through and set aside. In a serving bowl, combine the lettuce, tomato, avocado, and shrimp. Toss with desired amount of
