Yield: 8 servings
CHAPTER TWELVE
Rowan is a chef.
The makeup artist takes extra care with the dark circles under my eyes this morning. I wish I could say I left Knox’s room and refocused on the task ahead, getting a good night’s sleep…but that’s not what happened at all. I played everything he said yesterday over and over in my mind. The last ten years were on repeat, analyzing every syllable, every look, every eye color change. I still don’t know what topaz means.
I scrutinized my feelings—was it hate or not?—and my actions. My thoughts. Nothing makes sense anymore.
But now I have to go on set and get my act together. After yesterday’s pasta mishap, it will take us hitting every mark today to advance. The Ortiz family hasn’t missed a cue, hasn’t made a mistake.
Mama smiles when I sit at our table, but her eyes tell the real story. She’s worried about me. “They did a great job. You look much more refreshed, baby.”
She’s being kind. I looked in the mirror before I came back to the table.
Wyatt doesn’t bother with pretenses. “It’s not like you to be nervous. You really couldn’t sleep? You sure you weren’t at the bar all night?”
I never made it to the bar last night. “I’m sure.” I don’t have enough energy to even give my brother mess.
The Everheart brothers make their entrance and my face heats. I look over at Mike and he waves, worry etched into his eyebrows. Guilt has me turning away and I switch my gaze over to Knox’s competition, the Warren family. They’ve done well, definitely superior chefs with skills similar to Knox and family. They own a steakhouse in Romeoville, just outside Chicago, and so far, haven’t made any major mistakes.
Mama meets my eyes, and frowns. “What has you so flustered?” She rotates to Knox and I follow her line of sight.
He’s standing, talking with Declan and Wyatt, who must have sprinted over to his new friends as soon as they arrived. Knox’s expression is calm but serious. Weston is sitting at the table, scribbling in a notebook. More than likely writing the fan fiction he’s so fond of.
When I glance back at Mama, she’s gaping at me. “What happened with Knox?”
“Shhh. Nothing.” I glance back at Knox to ensure he didn’t hear her.
He’s still deep in conversation, but after a moment, Wyatt walks our way, then Knox and Declan follow.
I shrink down in my seat, trying to disappear.
Mama narrows her eyes.
Wyatt says, “Declan talked to his father and there was flooding in Austin overnight. They had some damage at their restaurant. Have either of you talked to Sue? I’ll try Hannah.” He walks away without waiting for a response, phone pressed to his ear.
Mama says, “I’m sorry to hear about your place. How much damage did Flynn say there was?”
Declan pulls a chair out and spins it around, straddling it. “There was some water damage in one of the storage closets but nothing major. We’ll be closed a few days though.”
“Oh no.” Mama puts a hand over her mouth.
Knox’s eyes are burning a hole through my profile, but I continue to study a very interesting stitch in the tablecloth.
Mama continues. “We don’t normally flood because we’re on a hill. I did talk to Sue this morning and she didn’t mention anything.”
Knox says, “That’s what I was telling Wyatt. I’m sure you’re fine.” He taps me on the shoulder. “You doing okay this morning?”
“Yeah, fine.”
When I look up to him, his eyes go wide, but he doesn’t say anything.
I should be so lucky with Declan. “Damn, girl.”
Mama spears him with a sharp look.
“Sorry about the language, ma’am.”
This day just began and it’s already the worst.
Declan elbows Knox. “I don’t think we need to worry about her winning anything.”
“I don’t need to try to beat Rowan.”
Well, damn. Looks like I stayed up all night for nothing. There’s a knot in my throat, but I push it down because I don’t have time for knots right now. Or feelings although this is going to leave a mark later. And just like that, we’re back to where we started. Knox Asshat Everheart has not changed and I’m an idiot for thinking he had.
*
The Warrens and Everhearts square off this morning, and we’ll have our chance after lunch. There is absolutely nothing in this world that will keep me from winning today. I hope it’s enough to cancel yesterday out.
I crack my knuckles and open my laptop, preparing to take notes as the director explains the last challenge today before the cameras start rolling.
The judges will provide guidance through the challenge, splitting their time between the two families. Each team will need to create a signature dish using the same eight ingredients, each one picked by a different family member plus one by each judge. This morning, they’ll have one set of ingredients. In the interest of fairness, we’ll have a different set to pick from this afternoon. The kicker to this challenge is that we’ll have to take our creation down to the street and let the general public judge.
The cameras roll and everyone picks an ingredient. The judges pick first, each selecting salt and pepper. Good. That gets the basic seasoning out of the way. Not much can be made without salt. I mean it can, but it won’t taste great. When everyone has picked, the protein they’ve chosen is chicken. All the better for me because chicken is boring. I won’t have to worry about one of the Ortiz’s picking it this afternoon.
Chicken may
