Zach barked out a noise that from someone else might have been a laugh. “I don’t think we’re in any danger of that.”
What happened to his apology the last time they were together? Sure, she hadn’t wanted to ever run into him again, but this was getting ridiculous.
Dani kept looking from one of them to the other. “Wait. Do you two know each other?”
Ava nodded. “I took his cooking class in Chicago.” It wasn’t up to her to let Zach’s family know the rest of their history. If he wanted Dani to know, he could fill her in.
“Well then, you really will have a difficult time remaining unbiased. You already know what a great cook he can be…” Dani’s tone was light, but Zach’s intense glower seemed to talk her out of continuing her thought.
“I definitely know how good of a chef he is.” Would Zach hear the apology in her words? She’d never really gotten to tell him how sorry she was for the events in Seattle. “Not only that, but he’s a good teacher too.” She tried for a smile. Failed. “There was a young guy there that Zach really took under his wing. I think he inspired all of us.”
Zach’s eyes lightened at her words. He cleared his throat. “Thanks for saying that.” While his tone still wasn’t exactly friendly, it was certainly less rough than a minute ago.
She had to get out of here. “It’s true.” She shifted her feet toward the entrance of the tent. “Well, I’d better run. Coffee is calling. Good to see you again, Dani. I’d love to set up an interview soon with you about your vision for this festival.” She nodded at Zach before spinning on her heel and heading toward what she hoped was the waterfront.
Suddenly the assignment from her newspaper wasn’t the only thing she was worried about. Now she also had to make sure Zach didn’t reveal her secret. He could ruin everything.
So much for a quiet trip home. Zach looked around him, certain the world had shifted in the twenty-four hours he’d been on Jonathon Island. First, the bombshell about Dad being here, and now his nemesis, Ava.
Okay. Maybe not nemesis. But he found he couldn’t think clearly when she was around. The old anger and bitterness he felt tangled up with his growing realization that she was a genuinely nice person. Bold and honest, but nice. Helping the other students in class, laughing and chatting all the time. Her easygoing friendliness had made the class run smoother, despite his prickliness toward her.
He looked over the people milling about, setting up all of the cooking spaces in this tent. He was definitely not watching Ava walk away. A morning breeze fluttered the edges of the tent flap. A beautiful Jonathon Island morning. If he listened closely, he could hear—or maybe just imagined—waves lapping at the shore not too far away. Under his feet, the spongy grass gave off a spring scent. He had spent the morning helping the volunteer festival crew unload the supplies for the cooking contest coming the next few days.
He tugged out the final crate from the cart. “Where do you want this?”
Cody Hart, the twentysomething fisherman engaged to Zach’s cousin Mia, lifted his ball cap and ran a hand over his forehead. His dirty-blond hair ruffled in the breeze. “That one can go near the central refrigerator. Thanks for all your help.”
Zach nodded. He wove his way through the groups of people tangling up the main walkway in the pavilion until he reached the central area. A pantry of sorts was taking shape as a fewwomen unloaded everything. All the ingredients for the cooking contests were provided by Flavor Fest. After being prepped here, the festival committee would place the ingredients into the contestant’s cooking station before the contest began each day. He’d already submitted his list for the first competition, but he’d need to submit the one for the charity competition by midweek in order for the ingredients to be available for him the following weekend. He recognized Allean Meyer, the librarian, with one of her signature crazy hats—a chef’s toque today—and Janine Dirks, red hair and ever-present sweater. Dani had mentioned they were both on the committee.
“Ladies.” He lifted the crate a little. “Where do you want this?”
“Oh, Zach. Thank you so much.” Allean smiled at him. “You can just set it there by the crate of milk.”
“I’m happy to help.” Working as a team felt…nice. In the hustle of a professional kitchen, at least one run by Chef Louie, the sense of camaraderie was missing. Even surrounded by people working and shouting and all with the same goal, a professional kitchen could be lonely. “What else can I do for you?”
“I think we’re good,” Janine said. “In fact, you should probably make yourself scarce. We’ll be setting up the individual cooking stations soon. We want to have that finished before the meeting in”—she glanced at her watch—“a little less than an hour. We can’t have you hanging around gathering intel on what the other contestants are planning.”
“Yeah. Shoo,” Allean said. She waved a finger at him, ever the librarian. “I’m sure a chef as accomplished as you could figure out a lot about the dishes of your competition just by looking at the ingredients they requested.”
He grinned at her. “Rats. You’ve discovered my plan. Here I thought I was being so sneaky.”
Laughter rang out from the ladies as he walked away. Time to check out his own workspace. Dani had promised he would have everything he needed. What he really needed was to figure out what to do about Ava.
When Dani got back, he would definitely have to have a word with her. Sure, maybe it wasn’t her fault. She probably didn’t remember that Ava was the food critic who had taken him down. Maybe he could convince her to uninvite Ava Harper.
He shook his head. That would never work. They didn’t have enough time to find a replacement. He would just have to suffer through having Ava as his judge. Again. At least this time she would be ruled by the criteria of the contest and not just her personal opinion of him and his cooking. Plus, she would have two other judges to balance her out.
He refocused on the task at hand, picking up his recipe card. He studied it for any mistakes. Satisfied, he took the card over to the cooking plate.
Another cool breeze lifted the edge of the tent, carrying with it a breath of the unique scent of Lake Huron, just out of sight on the other side of the hotel. Fishy and loamy with a hint of wet sand.
He glanced up, and his thoughts stuttered to a stop. His dad strode across the grass toward him. His tanned face beaming above a crisp white polo shirt and navy-blue slacks.
“Zach! I thought that was you.” His dad ducked into the tent and reached for him. Did he want a hug? Zach stuck out his hand.
“Dad.” Outside of Dani’s wedding, he hadn’t seen his dad in months, and he had avoided talking to him much at the wedding. While his mom had betrayed his dad with an affair, his dad had betrayed them all with his actions with the hotel. But then, he’d been aloof and unavailable for most of Zach’s life, so Zach had given up trying to be chummy with him.
“Dani told me you were competing. I’ll be sure to come and watch.” His dad crossed his arms.
