When we gather at the end and Chef Buccola and Dean Ellerson, along with the presenters, give the postmortem, I feel confident that we’ll win. I look over at Flynn, and he’s red-faced and flustered, his white chef’s jacket covered in flour and sauces. I catch Weston’s eye and smile, offering him whatever comfort I can. He smiles back and shrugs. Declan doesn’t look my way.
Aaron and Lee have the final results in their hands, ready to announce. When they give the name of the winning family, blood rushes through my head and I can’t hear anyone. Tears stream down my face. Wyatt is close to me, but I’m disoriented, unable to decipher his actions. He shakes my shoulders, then hands me water and I drink deeply, trying to calm myself enough to join the celebration.
Can it really be true? Have we saved Smothered in Love? No worries over Mama losing her health insurance anymore? Keeping Sue?
I look at Wyatt, whose smile is reserved. I must be freaking out so much that I’ve scared him. Finally, I laugh and throw my arms around his neck and we hug and bounce around, then grab Hannah into our winner’s circle. I can’t wait to call Mama. And Knox.
The thought of Knox has me rotating around to where the Everhearts are standing. Weston is the only one clapping and smiling. He gives me a thumbs-up when our eyes meet.
Lee says, “Congratulation, Townsends. As you know, the prize is a new restaurant. What you don’t know is that Chef Buccola’s consulting company will advise you through the whole process until you’re open for business.”
I feign excitement, because although that’s an incredible leg up, witnessing someone trying to advise Lillie is not going to a joyful experience. Hopefully I will have found my new gig so I won’t be around.
Next, Weston and Declan come over to congratulate us. Well, Weston congratulates all of us and gives me the biggest hug ever given, and Declan pats Wyatt on the back and says, “Great job.” Flynn is standing back a bit with his arms crossed.
Weston turns to him expectantly. “Dad?”
Flynn coughs, “Congrats.”
I’ll be the bigger person, especially now that I’ve seen his vulnerability with the man I love. “Thank you, Mr. Everheart. It was very competitive.”
He frowns. “It would have been had my son not sabotaged it. We would have won otherwise.”
Rage bubbles up in my throat and before I can tell him the fuck off—not just for my own pride, but for blaming Knox for his nonsense—I glance at the set light and note that it’s still red. Hot set. Instead, I rotate back to my family and Knox’s brothers. “Great job, guys. You are truly talented. All of you.” And they are in their own compartments. It’s true that Knox has the head chef thing covered, but honestly, if Michelin-starred chef Flynn Everheart couldn’t beat us, then maybe, just maybe, we’re pretty talented ourselves. I’m so over doubting myself.
It’s close to ten at night when we’re finally released with a packet of information a foot thick. I’ve been running on adrenaline, but after staying up way too late with Knox last night, my lack of rest is catching up to me. Plus, we have the earliest flight out in the morning at eight which drags my steps down further. I slump into Wyatt’s side, and he throws the arm not occupied with Hannah around my shoulders as we ride down in the elevator. I’d love to be the first person to tell Knox what happened, but I don’t have the energy to dig my phone out of my backpack and turn it on.
We exit the building for the last time and step to the waiting town car when I trip on the curb. Knox is there to catch me before I faceplant. “Whoa, Amber. Don’t die before you can celebrate your win.” He squeezes me so tight, I can barely breath. “Well done, you.”
I look up into his smiling face and suck up all the energy he’s giving, jumping to wrap my legs around his waist. I kiss him then with everything I have. He’s still smiling against my mouth but manages to kiss me back. “You’re here. How’d you know?”
“Someone called me as soon as you were done filming.”
I slide down his body back to the ground, suspicion filling my sleep-deprived brain. “Who, Knox?”
“Chef Buccola. It’s sort of a long story, but from the look on your face, I guess I better hurry up and tell you. I’d sure hate to find myself on the street tonight.”
I step back and cross my arms. “Okay.”
Wyatt calls to us from the car. “Are you getting in? My bed is calling my name.”
Knox says, “I’ll tell you all about it on the ride back to the hotel.”
We pile into the car, and I’m trying to remain positive, to trust Knox, but I’ve had a bad feeling there was something going on with him and our judge since almost the beginning of the competition.
Hannah asks, “What’s wrong? We just won and you two are being awfully quiet.”
Knox clears his throat. “I have something to tell Rowan, but I may as well say it now because it involves all of you.”
I’m sure my eyebrows have shot so far up, they’ve disappeared into my hair.
Knox grabs my limp hand and kisses it. “I love you. And I promise I will never do anything to hurt you.”
I start to protest and he squeezes my hand. “Nothing else to hurt you.”
It’s a difficult transition for me and I know I need to let my guard all the way down, but after fighting with Knox for so long, my first instinct is to go on the offensive instead of listening. I relax into the leather seat and squeeze his hand back. “Okay.”
“I approached Chef Buccola through
