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Prologue
Drew
My best friend’s photo pops up on caller ID and I debate not answering—I still haven’t started class, thanks to the pseudo-celebrity I’m waiting on. But I haven’t heard from Bailey in weeks.
The students can wait a couple more minutes. I duck around the corner from my classroom and open the call.
“Hey, Bailey girl.”
“Drew! I’m glad you answered,” she says. “Do you know anything about dyeing clothes? Like, to fix a color?”
Uh-oh. If Bailey’s making repairs, something’s wrong.
“What did Peter do now?” I ask, referring to her fiancé. Bailey’s got a bit of a bad track record with men. When things start to go south, she tends to get a little destructive.
“What? No, not Peter,” she says. “I was trying to bleach out these jeans and I must have read the directions wrong. So once again: Do you know anything about dyeing clothes?”
“Not a thing,” I say. “My best advice would be to donate them and buy a new pair.”
Bailey sighs. After more than a decade of friendship, I know that sound. Something is definitely up with Peter.
“Peter’s been staying late at the office again,” she says quietly.
Shit.
Bailey continues before I can think of something supportive to say besides “dump that bastard, you deserve so much better.”
“It’s not what you think,” she says. I’m glad she’s not here to see me roll my eyes. “He’s on this big case, and—”
“He’s always on a big case,” I say, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. She really can pick them.
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing,” I say. “Have you talked to him about this? About him being gone so much?”
“…Not in so many words.”
“Bailey.”
“He says I’m overreacting,” she says, sounding forlorn.
“You do have a history of overreacting,” I concede. “But that’s not what this is. He’s your fiancé. I don’t think asking for an explanation or a compromise is unreasonable.”
“He says I’m too available. Like I’m supposed to work the same crazy hours he is? I work full-time just like most normal people.”
I murmur agreement and let her rant while I check my watch again. If the guy I’m waiting on doesn’t show in the next three minutes, I’m starting class without him.
“Anyway, enough about me,” says Bailey, winding down. “How’ve you been? Wait—don’t you have class tonight? Shit, Drew, you should have said something! I didn’t mean to keep you”
“It’s okay,” I say, laughing. “I’m waiting on one of the guys from the network to come down. Archer Burke’s making the big announcement to my class tonight about the cooking competition.”
“Did they find somebody to host it?”
“Yep.” The guy they picked to host is a royal pain in the ass. But fortunately somebody else at Sizzle TV will be in charge of managing him. I’m only a lowly production assistant. Though considering my boss put me in charge of coordinating the new cooking competition, I don’t think I’ll be a lowly PA much longer. Teaching these cooking classes after hours in the Sizzle TV test kitchen is just a side gig.
“I should sign up for your class,” says Bailey wistfully. “I haven’t done anything fun like that in ages.”
“You cook all the time,” I say, checking the hallway. Still no Burke.
