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Good. It’d be too late for him to show up now, so I was safe. Maybe Lucian’s beast had been enough to send Jacob’s ass packing back to France.
Then I looked up.
There Jacob stood at the judges’ table, with a badge that looked just like the one all the other judges were wearing.
…You had to be fucking kidding me.
There was no way!
I couldn’t believe he had managed to weasel his way into the contest, and I was absolutely livid.
What was he thinking? How had he even gotten on this panel, of all panels? He couldn’t even handle a jalapeno!
I knew I had to stay calm and focus on the contest, but I couldn’t shake the anger that was washing over me.
As I continued to prep my ingredients, I did my best to remain calm and collected. All the other judges were legitimate. If I won them over, that should be enough even if Jacob tried to crater my score.
It was two hours later when the announcer finally called out, “Time’s up, contestants!”
The crowd cheered as the contestants stepped away from their stations, the air filling with anticipation.
I watched as the judges tasted each dish, their expressions ranging from pleased to curious.
The announcer called out my name, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves as I approached the judges’ table. I placed my dish in front of them, and they leaned forward, inhaling the scent of the gumbo.
“Spicy,” one of them commented after a bite, smiling at me.
“It sure is,” another agreed.
“This is excellent,” one of them murmured, taking another spoonful. “The flavors are perfectly balanced, and the heat is just right.”
“I agree,” another added, nodding. “This is truly a unique and delicious dish.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, my heart racing with both trepidation and excitement.
Then it was Jacob’s turn to take a bite. He took his time, dramatically unveiling his spoon as he kept his eyes locked on me the whole time, a little grin on his face. God, what was the bastard going to do this time?
He took a bite.
And his eyes immediately watered.
But not from the spice, judging by the fact that he immediately took another spoonful, not even bothering to switch spoons as a courtesy to the other judges.
He pulled the bowl in closer to himself, then took another bite, and another, until he started eating it like a starved dog.
Everybody gawked as he nodded, his eyes still watering. “This is delicious,” he muttered. “I haven’t had anything like this in a long time.”
I blinked, surprised by his reaction. “Really?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.
He nodded, his eyes meeting mine. “My grandmother used to make a dish just like this when I was a kid. It’s… It’s brought back a lot of memories. She was a demon—and I don’t mean figuratively. She was the only monster in my family, so after she passed, I never thought I’d get to taste this flavor ever again.”
I couldn’t believe it. My ex was one-eighth demon.
I guess that explained a lot.
But for him to be crying here before me, in front of all his peers and fans…?
It was a moment I never thought I’d see.
