Kenzie
I’d had a fitful night of sleep, all thanks to Jonas Courtland. I didn’t know why I was even allowing myself to think about him at all, but I tossed and turned until early morning as thoughts of him consumed me. They ranged from wanting to fall back into the same trap I once had and relive prom night with him, to mainly committing homicide.
I finally managed to make it through the night, and when I left the room and showed up downstairs early, I was glad to not see any sign of him. Knowing Jonas, he was likely shacked up in his room with some female whose name he would forget when the sun rose in the sky. I didn’t care. It wasn’t jealousy I was feeling. I hated him, and others could have him. I only needed this contract long term, and in the immediate short term, this cup of coffee. I’d actually inhaled three of them before Reece joined me.
“All ready for these challenges?”she’d asked me.
I nodded. If she only knew the full story. I kept my plans for Jonas Courtland to myself, then we waited as others eventually joined us. All but two chefs arrived, and I knew this competition was getting serious if they were already gone before they could crack an egg or boil a pot of water. I couldn’t worry about others. I used to have an unhealthy fascination with reality television, and I knew people formed alliances on those shows. They ended up focusing on outside drama than whatever they’d been brought there to do. I wouldn’t fall into the same trap, so I ignored everyone else and took notes along with Reece when Oliver started talking.
I noticed Jonas had still not come downstairs yet, and hopeful it might mean he wouldn’t be the judge after all, I had allowed myself to calm down. As soon as I was settled, he emerged, looking just as hot in the daylight as he had under the moonlit skies.
“Just my fucking luck,” I muttered under my breath, earning a snicker from Reece.
She was thrilled to see him, and I knew why. Reece had talked me into giving this man a payback and knowing that most of my friend’s plans ended in disaster, I should’ve politely pointed that out and moved on. I was an obvious glutton for punishment because after a second and third thought, I wanted to make him pay for what he’d done to me. In the end, I’d likely lose my contract for a restaurant, but if I could make him suffer for the first time in his entitled life, I would risk it. Knowing that, it set me on edge. Why was I still giving him the power to destroy me, especially knowing I'd only be destroying myself in the process?
I did force those thoughts from my head and settled into a routine. Today, we had two different challenges, one timed and the other untimed. During each of them, I occasionally glanced over at Jonas who appeared deep in concentration on whatever was so intriguing in his laptop. It could be business, but knowing him like I did, I wouldn’t even be surprised if it was porn. After all, he was quite nifty with a damn video camera.
As those memories resurfaced, I almost wished I knew what plate he would be trying so I could poison him, or at least send him to the bathroom for a while. His suffering didn’t have to be permanent. It just needed to happen so I could what? As that question lingered in my head, I realized there was no true satisfaction in that. He’d send me home, and nothing would change. He would continue to grace the city’s society pages and I would be back to prepping meals for soap opera actresses and models, and he’d be sleeping his way into the Guinness Book of World Records.
I eventually stopped thinking about him and focused on the food. After four years at the University of Nebraska, I had gone to Europe for a whole year of cooking lessons. I learned the tricks of the trades from those French pastry chefs, perfecting macarons that were light, yet chewy and a popular item for catered events. I had then trained in Italy, learning how to marry certain flavor combinations together to create something comforting, but with a modern twist. There were also the lessons in Spain, Germany, and even Switzerland. If I did manage to land this contract, I wanted to make sure to incorporate everything I learned, while also highlighting the plentiful ingredients found locally. For that reason, I intended to serve a number of seafood dishes and farm-quality classics.
I’d done more than learn how to cook over the course of those four and a half years. I had also learned the business side of things, and I knew locally sourced ingredients would not only be a selling feature, but they would allow me to cut out the transportation costs, which would help food costs exponentially. I was very confident in my culinary abilities, but I wished I could say the same about my seduction skills.
“It’s overdone,” Reece told me midway through the day.
“Huh?” I asked as she broke through my thoughts.
“The shrimp. It’s overdone. You’ll need to start it over.”
I looked down and realized she was right. It was a true role reversal right now and I shook my head, needing to clear away the clutter inside. It was hard, however, when the one dominating my thoughts was sitting about twelve feet away from where I stood.
“You’re right,” I told her, then sighed. I tossed the seafood into the trash, and picked up a clean pan. I filled it part way with water, then salted it generously. Poaching anything required concentration, and I needed to use all of mine or else I ran the risk of losing this challenge.
Failure wasn’t an option for me. Things had been hard recently financially, so I needed to not allow past exes to blow my chance at a future. The last thing I wanted was for me and Reece to have to move back to Lincoln, or worse, Omaha. With my mind clearly where it needed to be, I added a few aromatics such as lemon, peppercorns, and parsley leaves, then allowed it to boil before I removed it from the heat. I waited for all the bubbles to subside and added in my cleaned and deveined shrimp, then placed a cover on the pan to allow them to cook. Thankfully, this part of the appetizer was one that could easily be redone so my earlier negligence didn’t set us back too much.
“It’s not like you to be so distracted,” Reece whispered. “I bet a certain redhead is to blame.”
I turned and glared at her. That redhead was distracting so she wasn’t wrong, but he was also not going to be the reason I lost focus. He’d already annihilated me once, and I wouldn’t give him the chance to do so again. Still, I couldn’t help but steal a glance in his direction, and I realized he was looking right at me. I rolled my eyes, hoping he’d see, before removing the cover from the pan once the shrimps were opaque and pink.
“If you say so,” Reece added.
“Just get me the cocktail sauce from the fridge,” I told her as I placed the cooked shrimp into an ice bath. They needed to chill completely before I could serve them, so I moved on to the other appetizer dishes. Our challenge was to create three different ones, and outside of the shrimp cocktail, I planned to also make a lobster crostini and sweet chili calamari.
I knew from my research on the Titans that many had expensive tastes, so I tried to elevate what I had. Jonas had spared no expense when it came to fresh ingredients which made that easier, and I had to admit it was nice to actually work in a space where I could move around freely and not have to worry about elbowing Reece or stepping on her feet. I was sure she appreciated that as well.
Reece returned with what I’d asked for and we finished up the rest of this untimed challenge. A few others were ahead of me, so I waited my turn. I was nervous, and even more so because of who was actually judging the competition. The prize wasn’t a check that would barely pay a few months’ rent in some small building space, but something that would change my entire life. This was an investment in a future I’d been planning for over the last several years. It would just so happen that the one person I could’ve gone the rest of my life not seeing would be the one making that decision. I had to impress him, even if I would rather swallow glass.
The others all moved along and eventually, my turn had arrived, and both Reece and I placed the three appetizers onto the table in front of him. I was so nervous that my knees were practically knocking, but when he looked up and flashed me one of his customary smirks, I steeled my resistance to him, and straightened my stance.
“What are you serving us?”
I cleared my throat, then smiled politely at Oliver who was sitting on one side of him. On the other, there was a local chef I recognized, but couldn’t place. “We have a shrimp cocktail, lobster crostini with a tomato and champagne sauce, and lastly, there’s breaded calamari served alongside a sweet chili sauce.”
“Sounds very appetizing,” the chef proclaimed, and I smiled.
I loved cooking. It’d been such a useful outlet for me once I was released from the hospital. My grandparents had been apprised of why I had to come live with them, and it’d been a hard period. What no one knew at Spencer Academy was that memories weren’t the only things that followed me to Nebraska. When in the psych ward, it was determined that Jonas had left me with a permanent reminder of what we’d done.
A little over seven months after arriving in Nebraska, I’d delivered a baby girl with bright red hair and those same hazel eyes that were staring at me now. I tried not to think of Victoria, because to the entire world, she was nothing more than my niece. My older sister had trouble conceiving and when I found out I was pregnant, I’d made the decision to let her adopt her. I had no means to support myself, much less a child, so it’d been a no-brainer. At least this way, I was able to watch her grow up, even if it sometimes ripped my heart out to do so. I couldn’t think about Tori, or anything else other than this contract. I needed to make it to the next round, and as the three sampled some from each plate, I stayed calm.