“Thank you, Chef.”
“Call me Rami. You earned it. Bang-up job. Maybe we can have you back onThe Devil’s Dineras a judge.”
Hope nodded as though that was a thing she could do. Yeah, sure, a judge onDevil’s Diner. Was she dreaming?
Soon Hope was surrounded by her foodie friends. There were more pictures and congratulations. She answered questions for a popular foodie website, the local paper in Las Vegas, and the Best Dishes PR Team.
This was a trip, a dream, one of the strangest moments of her life, to say the least.
Finally, it died down, with promises to meet up at the reception in the ballroom of their hotel. She had Chef Ellston’s card, a card from some agent, and a giant ceremonial check to figure out how to get back to her room.
Hope packed up her equipment and plopped the giant show check on her wheeled cooler. While other revelers in Vegas drank, danced, and gambled, Hope made her way back down Fremont Street to The Golden Nugget, where she was staying.
Is this how Super Bowl players or tennis stars feel after they win? Strangely pedestrian, like you still have to schlep your gear back to your room? She imagined Serena Williams walking down the street with her Wimbledon trophy under one arm and her purse in the other.
It made her laugh to herself. She had just achieved a pinnacle, but she still had to wheel her stuff back. Alas, it wasn’t really Queen for Day. It was more Queen for an Hour. Still, not too shabby, even for a short time.
Hope finally managed to lug her stuff back and wheel it all into her room. She took a few deep breaths.
Wow, she’d won. The big check was for show, but the real prize money was being directed deposited to her. One hundred thousand dollars. The thought of that made her lightheaded.
Hope needed a shower before the reception. She probably smelled like cigarettes and parmesan cheese. She also knew she couldn’t stay out late.
Her flight was early in the day tomorrow; there was no room in her budget for an extra few days to relax. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. Shecouldstay another day. But splurging with her prize money wasn’t in her nature. The money wasn’t the end of the road. It was a beginning. She wasn’t sure to what, but she figured it was a nest egg or a seed or some other metaphor. The money was the freedom to choose what came next.
On that note, she figured if she was going to have fun with her foodie friends at the reception, she best be all set for departure tomorrow.
Hope picked up her phone. The battery charge was low. Before she left for the reception, she wanted to text her kids and Archie to tell them the news.
Hope plugged in her phone to charge it and decided to use the iPad instead. She hadn’t used it much, but she’d brought it as a backup on the trip. If nothing else, maybe she’d load a movie for the flight home.
She opened the iPad and saw there were a dozen messages.
Maybe more congratulations on the big win!
She opened the messages app on the iPad.
Her mouth dropped open. She blinked her eyes to try to adjust to what she was seeing.
First up, a naked woman. Had she been hacked? Was this spam? Was she about to crash her device?
Hope swiped through the messages. Naked up top, naked down below, naked, naked, naked.
What the heck?
And then she recognized a naked man.
Oh no. Oh my goodness!
That was a familiar, uh, no. It couldn’t be.
Hope scrolled down. She recognized the duvet cover, the light gray striped one she’d gotten on sale at T.J. Maxx. This wasn’t just her husband with some naked woman; it was her bedroom!
And then, there were a few texts to drive home the awful truth.
“You were so hot last night, so glad we have one more day.”
“When does she get home?”
