reunited with her equilibrium. She gathered what she needed—wild mushrooms, nutmeg, butter, cream, and the other necessities to prepare the inventive dish she’d only rehearsed in her mind. Would it work? Agar, where’s the agar? In her haste to find the all-important ingredient, she stood on the cameraman’s foot and nearly lost the contents of her tray.
*
Dante felt fantastic. What had started out as a lousy week had turned around. He’d thought his cousin had shared the love and values that had been passed down by their fathers. He’d been wrong. Hopefully, this competition would be the forum to put things right. But his ex-girlfriend Valerie, who was the show’s host, was going to have to be put at a distance without causing a scene. She was a wildfire out of control and a part of his past he’d rather forget.
He watched Cassidy race to the food storage area. He knew many of the other chefs here today—they weren’t patient, they weren’t gracious, and they weren’t going to be friendly toward an amateur cook. Particularly a somewhat quirky one like her. But he admired her determination and was drawn to her. He was sure those sparkling green eyes—or blue, he really must check—had intrigued many men before him. It was a welcome change to find an attractive woman who wasn’t star-struck by the celebrity doors he could open for them. Under his breath, he wished her luck.
One of his apprentices, Matt, joined him and shook his hand with vigor. He told Dante that Carlos had also made it to the next round. Dante initially felt a swell of pride because he’d trained Carlos, but it wasn’t long before the memories of his deception came flooding back.
“How’d you do?” Dante changed the subject.
“Nowhere near as well as you or Carlos, but they’re giving me another chance after the first round if they still have a couple of spots left.”
“What did you cook?”
“Classic gnocchi with Napolitana sauce and a twist.”
“What was the twist?”
“Would you believe I made it into a pizza?”
Dante scowled at Matt, but tapped his hand gently to soften the blow. “What am I always telling you? Keep it simple. Let the fresh ingredients tell their own story instead of trying to take them to a masquerade ball to impress.”
Always generous with his advice, Dante suggested to his apprentice if he got another chance, he should cook it again without the pizza base, and gave him ideas on presentation.
He knew he should be on his way back to the restaurant, but Dante couldn’t leave just yet. He wanted to see if his apprentice got a second chance. No, that wasn’t true. He wanted to watch Cassidy cook. She’d ignited a burner inside him that wasn’t easily put out.
He felt nervous for her as he heard the other spectators express their views on her unsuitability. Their cruel laughter seemed to catch on like a Mexican wave. She was going to have the challenge of her life—he knew what the judges were looking for, and appearances were important. They would have already made up their minds before she’d even laid out her knives. She was toast without butter. Burnt toast.
“She’s got to be kidding,” Matt said to him as Cassidy walked to the stage, laden with ingredients. Although she looked very scruffy from the weather having thrown everything it had at her, her decorum suggested she was wearing a white ball gown. Yes, she was attractive, with her elfin features and short spiky hairstyle…but she wasn’t the type of woman he usually dated. What he hadn’t expected was the way her hand had fit so snugly into his, and how the contact had felt so right. He reminded himself he liked his women taller so he didn’t tower over them, and he loved a long mane of luxurious hair. Not that it mattered—romancing Cassidy should be the last thing on his mind, and she was at least a decade younger than he was. Nevertheless, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“She’s got guts,” he
*
Dante felt fantastic. What had started out as a lousy week had turned around. He’d thought his cousin had shared the love and values that had been passed down by their fathers. He’d been wrong. Hopefully, this competition would be the forum to put things right. But his ex-girlfriend Valerie, who was the show’s host, was going to have to be put at a distance without causing a scene. She was a wildfire out of control and a part of his past he’d rather forget.
He watched Cassidy race to the food storage area. He knew many of the other chefs here today—they weren’t patient, they weren’t gracious, and they weren’t going to be friendly toward an amateur cook. Particularly a somewhat quirky one like her. But he admired her determination and was drawn to her. He was sure those sparkling green eyes—or blue, he really must check—had intrigued many men before him. It was a welcome change to find an attractive woman who wasn’t star-struck by the celebrity doors he could open for them. Under his breath, he wished her luck.
One of his apprentices, Matt, joined him and shook his hand with vigor. He told Dante that Carlos had also made it to the next round. Dante initially felt a swell of pride because he’d trained Carlos, but it wasn’t long before the memories of his deception came flooding back.
“How’d you do?” Dante changed the subject.
“Nowhere near as well as you or Carlos, but they’re giving me another chance after the first round if they still have a couple of spots left.”
“What did you cook?”
“Classic gnocchi with Napolitana sauce and a twist.”
“What was the twist?”
“Would you believe I made it into a pizza?”
Dante scowled at Matt, but tapped his hand gently to soften the blow. “What am I always telling you? Keep it simple. Let the fresh ingredients tell their own story instead of trying to take them to a masquerade ball to impress.”
Always generous with his advice, Dante suggested to his apprentice if he got another chance, he should cook it again without the pizza base, and gave him ideas on presentation.
He knew he should be on his way back to the restaurant, but Dante couldn’t leave just yet. He wanted to see if his apprentice got a second chance. No, that wasn’t true. He wanted to watch Cassidy cook. She’d ignited a burner inside him that wasn’t easily put out.
He felt nervous for her as he heard the other spectators express their views on her unsuitability. Their cruel laughter seemed to catch on like a Mexican wave. She was going to have the challenge of her life—he knew what the judges were looking for, and appearances were important. They would have already made up their minds before she’d even laid out her knives. She was toast without butter. Burnt toast.
“She’s got to be kidding,” Matt said to him as Cassidy walked to the stage, laden with ingredients. Although she looked very scruffy from the weather having thrown everything it had at her, her decorum suggested she was wearing a white ball gown. Yes, she was attractive, with her elfin features and short spiky hairstyle…but she wasn’t the type of woman he usually dated. What he hadn’t expected was the way her hand had fit so snugly into his, and how the contact had felt so right. He reminded himself he liked his women taller so he didn’t tower over them, and he loved a long mane of luxurious hair. Not that it mattered—romancing Cassidy should be the last thing on his mind, and she was at least a decade younger than he was. Nevertheless, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“She’s got guts,” he
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