His heart stilled. “It’s fine,” he mouthed back.
And it really was fine. Because on the walk, he’d realized that he had a big problem to sort through. Sure, he liked Ava, but was there any future for them? And did he even want one? What would a relationship look like if he moved to the coast to follow his dreams?
Chapter Twelve
Her stomach twisted as she dressed for the day. Ava exhaled slowly, willing her nerves to settle. The walk and talk with Zach on Wednesday night had convinced her that if they were going to move forward, she needed to clear the air about the review her newspaper had printed.
Zach’s dad had interrupted her before she could talk to him about the review. And then several other people wanted to chat. By the time she had a free minute, he’d already gone.
Yesterday, she’d concentrated on getting enough material for her article series. She hadn’t run into Zach at all. But no more excuses. She couldn’t keep sweeping that conversation under the rug. Maybe she could find a quiet moment after the contest today.
Today’s events were going to be momentous. Was this unsettled sensation because she was worried about the contest or from the prospect of working in a small kitchen with the handsome chef she was finding herself falling for? No time to figure it out now.
But first, she had to keep the secret of her complete ineptness in the kitchen from being the only thing people talked abouttoday. Right. She checked the mirror. She’d chosen dark slacks and a T-shirt for today and put her hair into a high ponytail. She squared her shoulders, then tugged her shirt straight.You’ve got this.If her parents weren’t going to call and give her a pep talk, she’d have to do it on her own.
She’d make it through the day by doing everything Zach told her to do. She tucked her notebook into her shoulder bag and headed out the door. A few minutes later, Dani pointed her to the kitchen station Zach had used for the other competitions.
“I didn’t think there was any harm in giving him the same one,” Dani said. Today, the tourism director was in a hot-pink T-shirt emblazoned with the Jonathon Island Flavor Fest logo. It paired nicely with her whitewashed skinny jeans and Converse sneakers. “Most of the other contestants are repeats too, so they got their old spaces as well.”
Ava looked around. She recognized Patrick Kelley, of course, and Enrique Perez. A few stations down, Val Anderson was prepping something. Their closest neighbor wasn’t someone she knew, however. Time to introduce herself. She took a step in that direction.
“Coffee?” Zach’s voice behind her caused her to whirl around. “Whoa.” He pulled the two cups he held out of the way as her shoulder bag flew around with her. “You almost had to source your own caffeine.” His white teeth flashed in a smile.
She took the cup, but her fingers nearly fumbled the handoff. That stupid combination—chef’s whites and black jeans—shouldn’t be allowed. It was far too effective. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“I took a chance and ordered you a fancy coffee.” Zach eyed her over the rim of his cup as he took a long sip.
“A fancy coffee?” She sniffed at the opening in the lid. “What is it?”
“Try it.” His eyes held a challenge. “Tell me what you taste.”
A long swallow revealed warm notes of spice and mellow coffee, lightly sugared with a foamy finish. “Hmm. Cardamom and raw sugar, maybe a light roast coffee…” She sipped again. “Is there pistachio in this cappuccino?”
Zach set his cup on the table and clapped. “Nicely done. I think you might have a future in the food industry.”
“It’s really good.”
“It’s my own recipe. I think Jill at Good Day thought I was crazy.” Zach pulled an apron out from a box under the table. “Here, put this on. Wouldn’t want to ruin that T-shirt.”
“You might have a future as a barista.” She patted his shoulder. “If this chef thing doesn’t work out.”
His laugh rang out as she tied on the apron.
A few minutes later, the competition was underway.
“Ava, chop those mushrooms smaller,” Zach barked.
Ava stiffened. “I thought we could do them a little larger. It’ll take less time to chop.”
“You need to follow my plan. Too big and the mushrooms won’t cook properly.” Zach motioned to the instructions he’d printed out for her, Audrey’s Mushroom Tarts written across the top.
Right. “Yes, chef.” She saluted him and let the brief irritation go. She’d agreed to do what he said, and he knew best in the kitchen anyway.
“Did I tell you I first made a version of this dish in Seattle, fresh out of school?” Zach came alongside her and began chopping too. “A family who invited me home after church every week used to serve it.”
“Nothing like a home-cooked meal after church.” Not that she would know. It was usually a frozen potpie for her. “Do you have a church in Chicago?”
“I used to. But then I had to work Sundays for a while. I probably should start going again. It’s hard to be motivated when I don’t feel like any place I live is permanent.”
