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Authors: Emily Evans
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from the label to Garrett. “What’s this?”
“The first episodes from this season.”
“The ones that are just starting to air?”
“Yeah, I thought the other contestants had an edge since they knew what happened. I contacted the studio and got a cut.”
I stood still, holding the DVD. “You got this for me? Thank you.”
He brushed off my thanks. “I work at the studio. It was nothing. Let’s watch it.”
When he didn’t want to take credit for something his sentences got much shorter. Sincerity and shortness, I had to remember that. I followed him into the living room, feeling oddly touched. Men didn’t put themselves out too much in my world, and I appreciated it.
Garrett cued up the tape. “Let’s analyze their game play so we can take them down.”
“Garrett, I’m really just a fill-in. I expect to get scooped out after this first episode.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know that. You’re a great cook.”
I felt a flush of pleasure. “Thanks, but there are real chefs on the show.”
“You are a real chef.”
I swallowed and didn’t respond. The last thing I needed was for this man to get even more attractive to me. I took a seat on the floor in front of the couch.
Garrett clapped his hands. “Right, then. Here goes.”
I watched the opening credits with a new perspective, and it all became real when the contestants I knew showed up. My nerves jangled. I curled my arms around my knees.
Dolores stepped into the living room. “I’m finished upstairs.”
“Thanks,’ Garrett said.
“This is the show I’m on, Dolores. Come watch with us.”
“No, I have dust to get,” Dolores said, but she moved to the bookshelf to our left and I caught her checking out the screen. “I like that Kate. Clean and simple cooking. I hope she wins.”
“Dolores.” I grabbed the remote from Garrett and freeze-framed the shot. “She may look clean, but I tasted her Enchiladas Verdes at rehearsal this morning and they were too spicy. Fancy and spicy.”
Dolores waved a dismissive hand. “Throw some sour cream in there. That will fix the problem right up.” Her English improved enormously when she was distracted.
“Hmm, good to know.”
“Why would she make Mexican on dessert day?” Garrett focused on the food.
“We didn’t know it was dessert day. She was guessing they’d say entrée and would have had a leg up if she’d been right. Not that I’m scared of a Mexican food challenge. My TexMex is awesome.”
Dolores snorted.
“It is. And Sara Sims, the host, is from Texas, so she knows good Mexican food.”
“You’re arguing Mexican food with Dolores?”
“Dolores is from Puerto Rico, Garrett. It’s a whole other country. Geez. I’m not going to argue Puerto Rican food with her.”
“Dolores doesn’t cook.”
“Uh huh. If you’d hired me to clean, that’s what I’d say too. No one wants two jobs disguised as one.”
Dolores didn’t join the discussion, but she wore a small smile on her face. I hit play and gave the remote back to Garrett. After watching snippets of the players’ backgrounds, they got right to the cook-offs.
Garrett froze the image on Cajun Cal winking. “Don’t trust him. He wants a show-mance.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty flirty.”
“And Will?” Garrett asked.
I looked back at his narrow gaze. “Will’s too good to be threatened by me, but he’s so cocky I want to shove his face in a dish.”
Garrett laughed. The scene turned to one of Kate scrubbing down a counter. Garrett glanced at Dolores and lowered his voice. “In the film we’re shooting, the serial killer’s a neat freak.” Dolores shook the window cleaner hard and squirted the blue spray on the glass leading to the pool. When her back was to us, he nodded rapidly. “Kate will snap. Stay away from her.”
When we’d watched all the available episodes, Garrett turned off the TV and sprang up. “Get your suit on. The wee American version of Loch Ness awaits.”
“Umm, I
“The first episodes from this season.”
“The ones that are just starting to air?”
“Yeah, I thought the other contestants had an edge since they knew what happened. I contacted the studio and got a cut.”
I stood still, holding the DVD. “You got this for me? Thank you.”
He brushed off my thanks. “I work at the studio. It was nothing. Let’s watch it.”
When he didn’t want to take credit for something his sentences got much shorter. Sincerity and shortness, I had to remember that. I followed him into the living room, feeling oddly touched. Men didn’t put themselves out too much in my world, and I appreciated it.
Garrett cued up the tape. “Let’s analyze their game play so we can take them down.”
“Garrett, I’m really just a fill-in. I expect to get scooped out after this first episode.”
He shook his head. “You don’t know that. You’re a great cook.”
I felt a flush of pleasure. “Thanks, but there are real chefs on the show.”
“You are a real chef.”
I swallowed and didn’t respond. The last thing I needed was for this man to get even more attractive to me. I took a seat on the floor in front of the couch.
Garrett clapped his hands. “Right, then. Here goes.”
I watched the opening credits with a new perspective, and it all became real when the contestants I knew showed up. My nerves jangled. I curled my arms around my knees.
Dolores stepped into the living room. “I’m finished upstairs.”
“Thanks,’ Garrett said.
“This is the show I’m on, Dolores. Come watch with us.”
“No, I have dust to get,” Dolores said, but she moved to the bookshelf to our left and I caught her checking out the screen. “I like that Kate. Clean and simple cooking. I hope she wins.”
“Dolores.” I grabbed the remote from Garrett and freeze-framed the shot. “She may look clean, but I tasted her Enchiladas Verdes at rehearsal this morning and they were too spicy. Fancy and spicy.”
Dolores waved a dismissive hand. “Throw some sour cream in there. That will fix the problem right up.” Her English improved enormously when she was distracted.
“Hmm, good to know.”
“Why would she make Mexican on dessert day?” Garrett focused on the food.
“We didn’t know it was dessert day. She was guessing they’d say entrée and would have had a leg up if she’d been right. Not that I’m scared of a Mexican food challenge. My TexMex is awesome.”
Dolores snorted.
“It is. And Sara Sims, the host, is from Texas, so she knows good Mexican food.”
“You’re arguing Mexican food with Dolores?”
“Dolores is from Puerto Rico, Garrett. It’s a whole other country. Geez. I’m not going to argue Puerto Rican food with her.”
“Dolores doesn’t cook.”
“Uh huh. If you’d hired me to clean, that’s what I’d say too. No one wants two jobs disguised as one.”
Dolores didn’t join the discussion, but she wore a small smile on her face. I hit play and gave the remote back to Garrett. After watching snippets of the players’ backgrounds, they got right to the cook-offs.
Garrett froze the image on Cajun Cal winking. “Don’t trust him. He wants a show-mance.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty flirty.”
“And Will?” Garrett asked.
I looked back at his narrow gaze. “Will’s too good to be threatened by me, but he’s so cocky I want to shove his face in a dish.”
Garrett laughed. The scene turned to one of Kate scrubbing down a counter. Garrett glanced at Dolores and lowered his voice. “In the film we’re shooting, the serial killer’s a neat freak.” Dolores shook the window cleaner hard and squirted the blue spray on the glass leading to the pool. When her back was to us, he nodded rapidly. “Kate will snap. Stay away from her.”
When we’d watched all the available episodes, Garrett turned off the TV and sprang up. “Get your suit on. The wee American version of Loch Ness awaits.”
“Umm, I
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