“Look.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want a fight. Actually, I wanted to apologize for how things played out last week.”
Her shoulders dropped an inch. “Me too. In fact?—”
“No, let me finish. I said some things that I regret. I apologize.” He crossed his arms.
“Um, okay. I don’t know if that’s an apology, but I forgive you. Two-way street and all of that. I apologize too. I?—”
Seriously? “Oh, so now you’re a critic of apologies? I’m trying to do better here.”
“You’re right.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. You just come off so…” She waved her hand around. “I don’t want to say arrogant?—”
“Then don’t. I apologized. You apologized. Let’s just leave it.” His shoulders tightened. He rolled one, trying to release the tension.
Her phone dinged, and she stole a quick glance at it. “My ride is here, but I still have some things I want to say to you. Can we grab coffee or dinner somewhere to talk about this?”
No way he wanted to spend more time with her. “I’m leaving for an extended trip next week and have a lot to prepare beforehand, so I won’t be around. Besides, I think we don’t have anything more to say to each other, do we?”
She squinted her eyes at him. “I guess not.” She held out her hand and he took it. “Goodbye, Chef Zach. I’ll try to avoid your restaurants in the future.” He shook her slim fingers once before dropping her hand and recrossing his arms. She spun on her heel and walked out of his kitchen.
And hopefully out of his life. He’d done his duty to his conscience and God and apologized. Now he could get on with the business of forgetting all about Ava Harper and focusing on the competition on Jonathon Island.
If he could win the charity competition, he could fund the Silver Platter for scholarships for kids like RJ. And if he could impress Paul Hawkeye enough in the regular competition, maybe he could even earn a spot in his kitchen. And then he could finally put down roots. He didn’t even care where. Just a place that he could call home for more than a year or two. All he had to do was be flawless.
No pressure there.
Chapter Four
The rest of her life began today.
A horn sounded on the ferry, and Ava looked out the window. Jonathon Island rose from the water in the distance. During the twenty-five-minute trip, she’d tried to ignore the faint fishy smell of the interior of this ferry boat, focusing instead on thinking through her plans for the next week and a half.
A plan that included buying the house of her dreams.
Her phone rang, and Emily’s face popped up on the caller ID. “Hey, girl!” Emily said. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye before you left. Are you almost to the island?” Emily’s trip to Los Angeles had been extended, and they hadn’t had a chance to catch up over the past week and a half.
“Yep. Almost. I can see it out the window.” She glanced out again, and a smile spread across her face. It looked picturesque under the June sun.
“How did your class go? Did you confess all to Zach?”
“No, I didn’t tell him. He didn’t give me a chance, in fact. Still arrogant.” Ava rolled her eyes even though her friend couldn’t see them. “Then my ride came. I asked to meet up with himagain, and he said, quote, ‘We don’t have anything more to say to each other.’ Unquote.”
“I guess that’s that, then.” Emily laughed. “Unless you see him again.”
“If I ever see him again, I’ll give it another shot. But there’s no reason for that to happen. He has a life in Chicago, and I won’t be going into Escargot again. And soon, I’ll have a life right here on Jonathon Island.”
“I’ve gotta run. Good luck out there.”
She ended the call with her friend, then laced her fingers behind her head and leaned back against her seat. She shoved all thoughts of Zach Sullivan out of her mind. She would forget all about the fight they’d had. And she’d definitely not spend any time thinking about his intense green eyes. She needed to concentrate on doing an amazing job here. No time for chefs with a chip on their shoulders.
The plastic of the teal seat squeaked under her as she dropped her arms and adjusted her position. A few moments later, the intercom squawked overhead.
“On behalf of everyone at Jonathon Island, we’d like to welcome you to the island. We’ll be docking in just a few minutes, so please remain seated until the vessel has been secured to the dock and luggage carts have been unloaded. Please take this opportunity to collect your things. And lastly, please be courteous to your fellow passengers as you exit the ferry. Thank you and have a nice visit.”
She slung the strap of her crossbody bag over her head and shoulder, then checked around her to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Her Realtor, Mia, had promised to greet her at the ferry landing so they could finally meet face-to-face.
Walking with the rolling gait needed on a boat, Ava made her way to the gangplank.
“Hello, Ava?” A younger woman in jeans and a light brown jacket waved at her from across the dock. Ava recognized Mia, with her long brown curls and friendly smile.
