national TV.
“Ashton.”
She snapped her head up at the sound of Ty’s drawl.
“Your turn.”
Chapter Four
As Ashton faced the judges, she willed herself to stop fidgeting. If she didn’t want to give away the fact that her nerves were sparking like a firecracker, she needed to put on a face for both the camera and the other contestants.
“Ashton,” Claude started. “I found your dish to be an innovative take on a chicken-salad sandwich.”
Ashton cautiously relaxed.
“I especially liked the way you hollowed out the bread to make a pocket. This dish was also simple, something the average person could make.”
At that last comment, Ashton felt her temperature rise. Was he saying her dishes were too easy? Little bubbles started to boil in her throat.
“This is a good thing,” Claude continued. “When you are writing a recipe for a national magazine, you need the dish to be elegant, but not so difficult it would turn off a reader.”
Andrea went next. “You need to relax in front of the camera. You spoke way too fast and you were as stiff as a robot. A camera is part of a celebrity chef’s life, so you need to show me you can be comfortable.”
Ashton nodded. So far so good. She didn’t care that she wasn’t perfect her first time cooking in front of a camera. With practice, she’d be fine…she hoped. She held her breath as she waited for Ty to speak.
“Ashton.”
A tingle ran down her spine. What was it about the way he said her name?
“I thought your dish was inventive, tasty, and perfect for an on-the-go lunch.”
She smiled broadly at the praise. The fist she’d formed eased, along with her tension.
“But it needed more salt.”
Her fingernails broke skin against her palms.
“Chefs can be hesitant about it, but sometimes all a dish needs to make it really great is proper seasoning.”
“It didn’t need salt.”
Dozens of eyes whipped in her direction.
Dammit, she had vowed to take criticism and not say a word, but he was flat-out wrong. How could she be expected to keep her mouth shut?
“Say again?” Ty raised an eyebrow.
She cleared her throat. “It doesn’t need more salt. The capers are salty. If I used more, it would be overkill.”
Ty had been standing in the middle of the room, but now he walked to her table. Amazingly, all her nerves had fled. She knew she was right.
“Capers don’t put out enough flavor to omit salt completely.”
“I didn’t omit salt completely. I just said it didn’t need more than I added. You just took a bite. If you’d eaten the whole sandwich, you would understand.”
“All right, then.” Ty picked up the sandwich he’d started and took a large bite. Then another, and then another. When he finished, he stood silent, his eyes filled with contemplation.
“Well,” Ashton prodded. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“The sandwich is very good,” Ty conceded.
Ashton lifted her lips in a relieved smile.
“But it still needs more salt.”
Embarrassment flooded her cheeks as laughter filled the room.
“Now, we pick the winner and the loser of the challenge,” Ty moved on. “The loser of the challenge is Lance.”
Every eye in the place shifted to Lance. His face turned as red as his hair, and he folded his arms across his chest.
“Lance,” Ty continued, “while the flavors were there, conceptually your dish didn’t work. The challenge was to make an on-the-go lunch, and you gave us a rice bowl with no silverware. My shirt ate more than I did. You need to listen to the challenge and follow it.”
Lance gave a tight nod, his gaze on the wall rather than on anyone in the room.
“The winner of the challenge is…”
Ashton’s heart sped up to a sonic rate.
“Ashton.”
Hearing her name, Ashton gripped the table to keep her feet from falling under her. She’d been proud of her sandwich, but Ty had shaken her confidence.
“It did need a little salt, but overall, your sandwich embodied the essence of the challenge,”
“Ashton.”
She snapped her head up at the sound of Ty’s drawl.
“Your turn.”
Chapter Four
As Ashton faced the judges, she willed herself to stop fidgeting. If she didn’t want to give away the fact that her nerves were sparking like a firecracker, she needed to put on a face for both the camera and the other contestants.
“Ashton,” Claude started. “I found your dish to be an innovative take on a chicken-salad sandwich.”
Ashton cautiously relaxed.
“I especially liked the way you hollowed out the bread to make a pocket. This dish was also simple, something the average person could make.”
At that last comment, Ashton felt her temperature rise. Was he saying her dishes were too easy? Little bubbles started to boil in her throat.
“This is a good thing,” Claude continued. “When you are writing a recipe for a national magazine, you need the dish to be elegant, but not so difficult it would turn off a reader.”
Andrea went next. “You need to relax in front of the camera. You spoke way too fast and you were as stiff as a robot. A camera is part of a celebrity chef’s life, so you need to show me you can be comfortable.”
Ashton nodded. So far so good. She didn’t care that she wasn’t perfect her first time cooking in front of a camera. With practice, she’d be fine…she hoped. She held her breath as she waited for Ty to speak.
“Ashton.”
A tingle ran down her spine. What was it about the way he said her name?
“I thought your dish was inventive, tasty, and perfect for an on-the-go lunch.”
She smiled broadly at the praise. The fist she’d formed eased, along with her tension.
“But it needed more salt.”
Her fingernails broke skin against her palms.
“Chefs can be hesitant about it, but sometimes all a dish needs to make it really great is proper seasoning.”
“It didn’t need salt.”
Dozens of eyes whipped in her direction.
Dammit, she had vowed to take criticism and not say a word, but he was flat-out wrong. How could she be expected to keep her mouth shut?
“Say again?” Ty raised an eyebrow.
She cleared her throat. “It doesn’t need more salt. The capers are salty. If I used more, it would be overkill.”
Ty had been standing in the middle of the room, but now he walked to her table. Amazingly, all her nerves had fled. She knew she was right.
“Capers don’t put out enough flavor to omit salt completely.”
“I didn’t omit salt completely. I just said it didn’t need more than I added. You just took a bite. If you’d eaten the whole sandwich, you would understand.”
“All right, then.” Ty picked up the sandwich he’d started and took a large bite. Then another, and then another. When he finished, he stood silent, his eyes filled with contemplation.
“Well,” Ashton prodded. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“The sandwich is very good,” Ty conceded.
Ashton lifted her lips in a relieved smile.
“But it still needs more salt.”
Embarrassment flooded her cheeks as laughter filled the room.
“Now, we pick the winner and the loser of the challenge,” Ty moved on. “The loser of the challenge is Lance.”
Every eye in the place shifted to Lance. His face turned as red as his hair, and he folded his arms across his chest.
“Lance,” Ty continued, “while the flavors were there, conceptually your dish didn’t work. The challenge was to make an on-the-go lunch, and you gave us a rice bowl with no silverware. My shirt ate more than I did. You need to listen to the challenge and follow it.”
Lance gave a tight nod, his gaze on the wall rather than on anyone in the room.
“The winner of the challenge is…”
Ashton’s heart sped up to a sonic rate.
“Ashton.”
Hearing her name, Ashton gripped the table to keep her feet from falling under her. She’d been proud of her sandwich, but Ty had shaken her confidence.
“It did need a little salt, but overall, your sandwich embodied the essence of the challenge,”
Similar Books
