The filming light turns on and we’re all in our seats and quiet again.
Mike looks at me with furrowed brows.
All I can do is raise my shoulders. But I do know one thing—suddenly I’m slightly endeared to Mike Smith.
*
During the second set of competition, the Ortiz and Ward families square off. Like us, the Ortiz chefs stick to what they know best. They make arroz con gandules and the sofrito they created for it had me leaning so far out of my chair, I almost fell. Now all I have a taste for is Puerto Rican food. And I know just the place.
I spin around and face Mike, and give him my sweetest smile. “Do you have lunch plans?”
He grins and picks up his messenger bag from the seat next to him. “Are you asking me out, Rowan?”
“I, uh.” I glance at Knox, who’s sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting for my response as much as Mike. Why not go out with him? I’m not seeing anyone and what happened with Knox last night was a total fluke. It wasn’t anything, matter-of-fact. Not even a blip. Mike’s a perfectly nice guy. I think. Heck, maybe he’ll make me one of his potpies sometime. “Sure. I guess I am.”
“Then in that case, I didn’t have lunch plans, but I’m happy I do now.” He puts the strap of his bag over his shoulder and offers me his hand. “Where should we go?”
I clasp his hand, grab my purse, and don’t give Knox another look, or thought, as we walk toward the elevators. “I know a place.”
The restaurant is only about five blocks away, but it’s up and down hills the whole way, and when we arrive and are seated, I order a blackberry mojito to quench my thirst. According to the menu, it’s made with Venezuelan rum which I’m anxious to sample. Mike orders a white wine. I’m not going to say this is strike two, but it’s like strike one and a half at least.
He studies his menu with furrowed brows.
“I probably should have asked you this earlier, but do you like Puerto Rican food?”
He looks up over the menu with glazed eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever had it.”
“But you’re a chef.”
He sets the menu down and focuses on my questioning. “That’s true. Did you learn to cook Puerto Rican food in school?”
“No, but we were exposed to it. As well as most other distinctive cuisine. You weren’t?”
He shakes his head. “No, not really. What do you recommend?”
Okay, let’s go ahead and fill in the last half of strike two. I peruse the menu and look for the safest choices. What kind of food do people eat in Denver? I chuckle to myself.
“Something funny?”
I whip my head up and Mike is grinning at me, a whimsical smile with not the slightest bit of malice. This is what two days around Knox does to me—I think everyone’s bringing the snark. “Yeah, I was wondering what people eat in Denver, and then I thought about Rocky Mountain oysters.”
He nods. “Quite the delicacy. We eat a lot of other things too. Seriously, I’m open to trying anything.”
Okay, we can erase that last half a strike. “I’ll have the pernil asado and you can taste some of mine if you want. For you, I’ll suggest the pollo encebollado and we can share some yuca and tostones. They’re really good here. Sound okay?”
“Sure, I trust you. So, you’ve been here before?”
“I have. A couple of times.”
The waiter comes and I order for us. When he leaves, I pick up the thread of our conversation. “I went to school in Napa. That’s how I’ve been here before.”
The look of astonishment on his face is immediate. “Oh wow.”
“You seem surprised.”
“I guess, I don’t know. I just assumed you went to school in Texas. Plus, you cook…”
I raise my brows then, urging him to finish.
He rushes on. “You’re an excellent cook. I mean the type of food you cook doesn’t seem like what they’d teach.”
Well, obviously. “My mother has had her restaurant since I was in middle school. For the competition, she wanted to stick to what she knows best. I plan to speak with her for the next level. We’ll need to switch it up some. Not play it so safe.” I bite the inside of my cheek. Hopefully he doesn’t take that as a slight.
“That makes sense. The judges definitely don’t want safe. We found that out the hard way. We thought we’d have time to work up to something else, but the Everhearts really pushed the envelope right out the gate. They definitely cook like they went to culinary school in Napa.”
I try to ignore the sting of his words because I don’t think he meant it like that. “Knox and I went to school together.”
Mike leans forward, setting his wine aside. “Really? You two seemed to know each other. I had wondered if maybe you were a couple, so I was a little surprised when you wanted to go to lunch.”
Before I can answer, I take a nice gulp of my tasty mojito. “We are definitely not a couple. We hate each other.”
His brows shoot up somewhere around his hairline. “You’re kidding. I don’t know the guy, but he clearly has it bad for you. He’s been watching you since the minute he stepped on set.”
“Yeah, to figure out how to devil me. Knox Everheart lives to make my life miserable. Trust me. That’s all there is to that.”
“Well, good because he’s not a nice guy. Pretty arrogant too.”
“He’s very talented. It’s more confidence than arrogance.” Jeesh, now I’m defending Knox. I really need to fix my life. “You’re right though. He’s not a nice guy.”
The waiter brings our food and neither of us has a whole lot more to say. I didn’t realize how hungry I
