*
Sassafras is an unusual name for someone, even as a middle name. Lillie grew up in Austin, but her Louisiana roots and Cane River heritage were prevalent in her upbringing. Especially when it came to food. Nightly meals consisted of shrimp Creole, meat pies, and jambalaya. And on weekends, gumbo, which was her absolute favorite.
She dreamed of owning a restaurant someday and perfected her gumbo recipe. She met Sawyer Townsend in college and they started a family, but she never gave up her dream. When her husband had some success as a tech entrepreneur and built his company up with Lillie’s help, he invested in Smothered in Love. The dynamics of their relationship changed after that, and they were unable to stay together, but Sawyer always supported Lillie in any way she would accept.
To make gumbo on the Cane River, one needs plenty of filé powder which is made from…sassafras leaves.
When the judges announce their scores, Mama’s gumbo beats every dish made. Even Knox’s ravioli. But after all the scores are tallied, we come in well behind the Everhearts. It doesn’t matter because it’s not even close to the Dolter’s low score.
Times like these I wish I had Knox’s petty. Instead I go over to the sisters and wish them well.
Everyone’s hugging or congratulating, so next I walk over to the Smiths to extend my condolences. The son follows me back to our table and offers his hand. “I don’t think we’ve had a chance to introduce ourselves. I’m Mike.”
“Hi. I’m Rowan. I’m sorry you didn’t make it through.” He has no idea how sorry I really am. They were great cooks, but they had to do a lot more than comfort food to beat Knox and his brothers.
“Yeah, me too, but at least we got a free trip to San Francisco.” He smiles and his brown eyes twinkle. He really means it.
I gather up my belongings, including Knox’s knives which I’ll have to return and thank him for. I still have no idea why he would do me such a solid. “That’s one way to look at it I suppose. Where are you from?”
“Colorado. Denver. You’re from Austin, right?”
“Right. Pretty much. Are you coming back next month?” From the beginning, we knew loser families would be able to travel back for all the competitions. Loser sounds so harsh bouncing around my brain and Mike seems nice enough for someone I met two minutes ago. The families that don’t advance. There, that’s better.
“I may. It’s good publicity for our restaurant which is why I agreed to do it in the first place. We need to get back to business though. I’ll see how we’re doing next month.”
“Well your chicken pot pie smelled divine yesterday.”
He grins. “Why, thank you. It goes without saying that all of your food was superior.”
I take off my jacket and hand it to the crew member who’s going around collecting them for next time. Then I pull out my earbuds. Mike is okay, but I need to bite the bullet and get these knives to Knox so I can see Mama and Wyatt off since they’re traveling back tonight.
“What kind of music do you listen to?”
I guess Mike didn’t get the hint. “Indie mostly. How about you?”
“I don’t really listen to music.”
Okay, strike one. Not that I’m keeping score. “Oh, okay. Well I have to catch up with my family. Maybe I’ll see you next month.”
“Sure.” He puts his hand out again and I shake it.
When he walks away, I scan the room for Knox, but all the Everheart men have packed up and are nowhere in sight.
I meet Mama and Wyatt by the elevators so they can drop me off at the hotel and head to the airport. I’m dreading finding Knox on my own, but I also don’t like feeling indebted to him, so the sooner I can return his knives, the better.
*
When I arrive at the hotel, I pick up the house phone and ask for Knox’s room. I pray he hasn’t checked out yet although the odds are against me. Mama and Wyatt had to check out before we left this morning and kept their bags in the town car. If Knox and crew did the same, I’m screwed.
When the phone is transferred to his room, I’m surprised. When he answers, my heart falls. Maybe I didn’t want him to still be here after all. Now I’ll have to be thankful.
“Well, hello there, Amber. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you this fine evening.”
I grind my teeth. He did me a favor so I’m going to let the use of that name slide. “How did you know it was me?”
“Who else would it be on the hotel phone?”
He has a point so I guess I’ll state the obvious. “I need to return your knives.”
“I’m in room 1025.”
“I’m not coming to your room, Knox. You can meet me in the lobby.”
I wait for the snarky comeback. “I’ll be right down.” Weird.
To pass my time, because I’m not sure how long he’ll keep me waiting, I order a vodka and Sprite with lime at the bar then stand by the restaurant entrance with the elevators in my line of site.
Knox comes up behind me and taps me on the shoulder, and I jump a country mile, spilling my drink.
“For fuck’s sake, Knox. Where’d you come from?”
“You must not be living right.”
I roll my eyes because I haven’t heard that saying in forever. Well, since college.
I still have on my comfortable pants and shoes splattered with food from the competition, but Knox has changed into dark jeans, a rich green sweater, and black Doc Marten boots. The jeans
