At her right elbow, a woman in a purple Flavor Fest T-shirt said, “Ooooh, are you gonna take that, chef?”
A lazy smile walked across Zach’s face. He put his hands on the workspace and leaned toward Ava and the gathered crowd.
Was it hot in here?
“I happen to really like ketchup with my pasta.”
“After tasting this appetizer, I can see why,” she shot back. “You’ve obviously lost your sense of taste. Maybe you left your taste buds back home in Chicago?”
“You go!” someone called out from the back of the crowd.
There was no one standing near any of the other contestants anymore. They’d all massed around her.
“If I’d known there was going to be this much action, I wouldn’t have disagreed with you about whether we should come,” one man said to the woman he had his arm around. “This is actually fun.”
Zach put his hands up. “Okay, I’ll admit that wasn’t my best effort. But any good cook knows you have to take risks to make something worthwhile.”
“I’m sorry to break it to you, but that wasn’t a risk worth taking.” Ava put a hand to her hip. Was she actually enjoying this? Who was Zach Sullivan? Certainly not the person she’d thought he was. “And this is probably a silly question, but did you even taste your dish before plating it?”
“I didn’t have time.” Zach rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, leaving one lock curled out of place. Ava fought the sudden urge to smooth it back. “I didn’t realize I would be interrupted so often, and I ran out of time.”
That made sense. She wasn’t the only judge who’d gone around asking the contestants about what they were doing. “And what about since then?”
“Yeah,” someone hollered from amid the crowd. “Taste it!”
Others chimed in. Ava’s stomach sank a little. Was it wrong that she was starting to feel bad for Zach? A muscle in his jaw jumped again.
“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” A sparkle lit his eye as he spoke. He shook his head. “I don’t need to taste it to know it was fine.” He crossed his arms, the challenge evident.
“I hate to break it to you, bub, but coming dead last is a good indication that you are wrong.” She crossed her arms too.
Now the crowd began to chant. “Eat it! Eat it!”
She held her breath.
His shoulders relaxed, and the hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. “Fine. I’ll eat it.” The crowd began to cheer, but he silenced them by raising his hands, palms out. “I will eat it, but only if Ava eats some too and tells me what’s wrong with it.” He raised one eyebrow.
She swallowed hard.
“You’re on.” She uncrossed her arms and nodded once. “Do you have some more stashed back there?”
“I happen to have one left.” Zach turned to the back of his cooking station and cut the last slider in half. He plated the halves, added horseradish and ketchup, grabbed two clean forks, and handed one of the plates to Ava.
Ava speared the sandwich, dipped it in the horseradish and ketchup, then raised a brow at Zach. “At the same time?”
He’d done the same with his portion. “You’re on.”
The crowd around them began counting down from five. When they reached one, Ava closed her eyes and popped the bite into her mouth. Everyone cheered.
She gagged. Yep. It was still terrible. Salty and metallic. And now it was cold too.
She opened her eyes. Zach’s mouth was pulled into a frown. His eyes glittered. She forced herself to swallow. “Are those tears in your eyes?”
Zach’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He wiped his mouth. “That was so bad.” He laughed. “I didn’t think I’d be able to swallow it.”
“Not to gloat, but I told you so.”
The crowd began to disperse.
