Although none of them were professionals, in accordance with the rules of the contest, nearly all of them had more training and experience than Jenna. She hoped her heart, and courage, and gut instinct would pull her through.
The participants were given their challenge for the day. They were to create a chocolate fantasy that was not a dessert, and they had the morning to prepare the dish.
The other contestants seemed galvanized by the assignment, while Jenna stood motionless at her station, racking her brain. Pretending she had an idea, she looked around the stocked pantry and came upon some beans. Maybe a nice strong bean dish would camouflage the chocolate.
She rinsed the beans and set them to soak while she sliced and diced an onion, red pepper, and chilies. Using a large stock pot, she sautéed the ingredients with garlic and olive oil. She added dark chocolate squares, spices, the drained beans, and a bottle of Mexican beer.
Slicing a chicken breast into thin strips, she sautéed the pieces with a touch of cayenne pepper. Finding some pretty Mexican bowls, she filled four of them with salsa, cheese, sour cream, and avocado. She set them on the table along with a plate of tortillas.
At noon the judges came into the kitchen. Each contestant described his or her unique dish and waited for it to be tasted and rated.
One woman had come up with a roasted rack of Australian lamb, served with a pink peppercorn demi sauce that included a hint of chocolate. Jenna’s confidence faded as she watched the judges taste the lamb and smile with appreciation.
Another contestant came up with a chocolate nut lasagna dish. His homemade pasta had cocoa in the mix.
Jenna presented her Chocolate Calypso Beans and accompaniments. Her entry scored the fifth top mark. She was disappointed not to be in the top three, but consoled herself that ten contestants had scored lower than she.
She only hoped the challenges would get easier.
* * *
Cindy was still not medically released to drive, so that afternoon Rob drove Jenna over to Grant’s. He carried bag inside. “Pretty nice digs,” he said with a grin.
“Yeah, not bad, is it?”
She smiled at Rob. “I’m going to miss you guys, but at least I’m close by and can see you all the time. I can’t believe I let so much time slip past between visits with my family. I’ll never do that again.”
“No, and we won’t let you.”
They stood looking at each other, and an awkward silence fell between them. Jenna touched his hand. “Rob, that test you did…the genetic swab test?”
His gaze dropped to his big feet. “What about it?”
“You’d left it on the bedside table before Cindy came home, and I saw it when I was cleaning up. I know I shouldn’t have looked at it. Amy’s not yours and yet you told everyone she was. Why?”
“Because…she is mine in every way that counts.” His gaze swept the room, not settling on his sister-in-law. “And what good would it do to tell the truth? I love Cindy. When she opened her eyes and I knew she had come back to us, I wasn’t going to let her go.” He drew in a breath. “No way was I going to let her go.”
“I understand, Rob.”
“I want Nick and Kelly to think of Amy as their sister and not look at her differently. The evidence is gone. I burned it. I never want to refer to it again, and I hope you won’t either.”
“Of course not. You can be assured of that.” Jenna touched his arm. “I admire what you’ve done, and the man you are. Cindy is a lucky woman, and I love you both.”
“Thanks, kiddo. We love you too.” He winked at her. “Is Grant the one? Will he make you happy?”
She nodded. “I think so. I hope so.” Her chin went up. “Yes, I do believe he is.”
“Good. Tell him he’ll have to contend with me if he disappoints you at all.”
“Okay, big brother.” She lightly punched his arm. “Now, go take care of your wife and let me unpack. I want to get used to my new digs.”
Later, she called Grant’s cell and told him she was sitting out on his deck, enjoying a glass of wine.
“You’ve moved in? That’s great. I love picturing you there. Did you find everything you need? You have the number of my cleaning lady, right? Oops, I meant our cleaning lady.” He coughed and cleared his throat. “I left you her number and every other number I could think of that you might need.”
“Yes, everything is perfect. You’ll be home in what, five or six days?”
“I better be. The other volunteers are staying two weeks, but I only took a week away from my practice.”
“Does the new clinic you’re opening there have a full-time staff, or will they be relying on volunteers?”
“We have volunteers from all over the world. Of course, they look for people willing to commit long-term, but accept any offer of hands.”
“So what’s your official title?”
“Team medical advisor. Basically I get to carry the first aid kit,” he joked. “And remind them to take their malaria pills.”
“Just a sec, someone’s trying to get my attention.” He was gone for a minute, then came back on the line.
“Sorry about that. Where was I? Oh, yeah…we’ve brought medical supplies which will be doled out accordingly. While I’m here, each child will get a proper physical exam, which most of them have never had in their young lives.”
“Sounds like you’ll be busy.” Too busy for Catherine, she thought with inward satisfaction.
“I can’t do much in a week, but I can get things started.”
“You’ll do great. Now, as far as that malaria is concerned, could you possibly arrange for Catherine to forget her pills? I’ll thank you personally when you get home.”
He laughed. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.”
They talked awhile longer, and then she said good night. Alone in Grant’s bed that night, Jenna dreamed of him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The following day Jenna returned to the culinary school, wondering what the new day would bring. When she heard the latest challenge she rubbed her hands together in eager anticipation. They had to create a three-course dinner using the elements of earth, wind, and fire. They had five hours.
Earth—she thought about roots and decided to make her soup with things that came out of the ground—onions, carrots, mushrooms.
Wind had her stumped. Okay, think. She thought of the sea breeze in Positano and closed her eyes to bring the memories alive. What images did it conjure up? Salt…the sea…the feel of the breeze upon her face. Flight…birds soaring in the sky…a bird. Pheasant, no, duck would be easier. Okay, she now had her main course.
The fire was easy. She’d do a flambéed dessert. No, too easy. How about saganaki—Greek fried cheese? That could be cooked in a matter of minutes.
Jenna smiled with renewed confidence. She enjoyed being creative, and had never felt such freedom in her life. Her corporate job had been all about discipline, fighting tooth and nail, and winning at any cost.
While she was waiting for the judges to make their decisions, she called her sister to chat. She reviewed the two day’s challenges and the menus she’d prepared.
“I’m so proud of you, Jenna. You are really clever. Good luck and keep me posted.”
“I will, Cin. Fingers crossed for me. I need to score better than yesterday.”
“You will.”
“I don’t know. The competition is tough.”
Jenna scored a disappointing fourth. She only had one day left to do better.
The word “failure” had never been an option for her. She did not fail. But even if she pulled off a perfect score with the judges tomorrow, it probably wouldn’t be enough.
She had received another call from ANP asking her to come on board. She knew if she took the job she’d be giving up any possible chance for a future with Grant. If she never gave the two of them a chance at happiness, how would she ever know if it might have worked?
She called the president of ANP and was directed to his voicemail. “Mr. Johnson, this is Jenna Cassali. I regret having to turn down your offer. The timing for me is particularly bad, and I must decline. Thank you for considering me, and good luck with your search.”
She’d made another decision about her future. It meant severing the last lingering tie to New York, but it was the prudent thing to do. She called her real estate agent, giving her the okay to sell her condo if it couldn’t be leased.
Next, she called Grant. He didn’t answer, nor did he call back before she went to bed that night. She was feeling lonelier than ever, and more than a little scared. She had so much riding on this stupid competition.
The ten thousand dollars wouldn’t make or break her. She had enough savings to last the year out, but there was far more at stake. Winning meant staying; losing—she wasn’t sure if she could.
She had never depended on any man, or for that matter, anyone, in her life. She couldn’t live with Grant and let him support her. Although he might be happy to do so, it was not an option.
* * *
The final challenge was, if nothing else, interesting. As a group, the contestants had to create the Seven Wonders of the World in food.
The dishes would reflect the cuisine of the respective countries and were to be served to a table of seven judges and a celebrity guest.
They drew straws to see who would be paired together and which crew would make what.
Jenna was teamed up with a young man of Asian descent who was training to be a sushi chef. So far in the competition he had scored only slightly worse than she. They had to create something really special to gain points over the other teams.
Jenna and Kim had drawn the Eiffel Tower. She raised an eyebrow, giving him an anxious look. “You got any ideas?”
“No. I was hoping that two heads would be better than one.”
She fretted for a minute, then shrugged it off. She could rise to this challenge and any other.
The thrill of competition raced through her blood, as it did whenever she faced strong opposition. Although highly unlikely, she wanted to win, and she’d never have entered this competition if she didn’t think she stood a chance.
Kim crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “Well, I could create a sushi tower. But that’s not exactly French.”
She could see that Kim had little enthusiasm and was acting as if they’d already lost. She refused to sit back and let that happen.
“We’ll make chocolate-cream mini-éclairs and arrange them like towers,” she decided. “I learned the recipe in a Parisian cooking class.”
Kim high-fived her, and they went to work.
She mixed the chocolate cream filling while the éclairs baked in the oven. Once the éclairs were cool, she showed Kim how to fill each one with the chocolate cream. She arranged them into eight towers on individual plates.
The pair were reasonably proud of their creations until the towers began to soften and slide. Jenna did her best to rearrange them. Because the éclairs were being served last, they had been in the refrigerator too long—three hours to be exact. Two was optimal.
She knew the confections wouldn’t be at their best, but there was no time to start fresh. The dinner was already in progress.
The dishes were going out one at a time. Each team’s chefs presented their creation with a brief explanation. So far the seven judges, all well-known food critics, had sampled a culinary global experience.
The Pyramids of Egypt was formed from a spicy couscous made with raisins, zucchini, carrots, garbanzo beans, and pimento-stuffed olives.
The Gardens of Babylon were represented by a leafy baby spinach and arugula salad with figs, berries, and goat cheese. The Leaning Tower of Pisa was manifested by a bed of pasta with lobster, scallops, and shrimps. The Taj Mahal was tasty morsels of lamb in a fine curry; and the Great Wall of China was a spicy Mongolian duck encased by a wall of white rice.
The two desserts were the Statue of Liberty—a medley of berries in a vanilla almond mousse—and hers and Kim’s.
When it was their turn, Jenna squared her shoulders and pushed through the swinging doors. Kim helped serve the eight guests, but let her explain why they’d chosen the éclairs for their dish.
“Obviously, when we picture the Eiffel Tower we envision Paris, and we wanted to create something as beautiful as the city itself. This is what came to mind.”
“Very inventive of you,” a critic named Simone said dryly.
“Thank you.” She flashed him her prettiest smile. Taking a deep breath she waited for each one to taste their éclair and make their comments.
“Hmm. A little soft, but quite tasty,” one lady remarked.
“It’s definitely mushy. Not as firm and crisp as I would like,” another one said.
“It’s not much of a tower, is it?” a heavy, triple-chinned man noted. “Leaning tower, or slippery tower, is more apt.” He tasted it, smacked his lips together, and frowned. “A little disappointing, really.”
Simone put his fork down. “It tastes as good as it looks.”
Jenna wasn’t sure how to read him. Was it a compliment or sarcasm? She chose the former. “You like it then? Did you find the chocolate smooth as velvet and the pastry melts on your tongue?”
“No, I was going to say it has the flavor and texture of a frozen food aisle delight.”
Kim made a choking noise, and Jenna’s cheeks flamed. Failure was not in her dictionary. “I’m sorry. Perhaps you’ve sampled so many culinary treats that your taste buds are off kilter. They were in the refrigerator for much too long while you all dined.”
“And this is our fault, how?” Simone asked with a goading smile.
Jenna raised her chin and met him eye to eye. “It is no one’s fault, including ours.”
He flicked his fork against the top éclair, and the would-be tower collapsed. “Well, I’m sorry, dear, but I’m giving it a one.”
“Two from me,” the multi-chin man said.
Kim was giving her horrified looks. He slid up beside her and hissed, “It was a stupid idea. I told you we should have done my sushi tower.”
Kim was the last of Jenna’s worries. She ignored him and spoke to the others. “It was perfect an hour ago. At least we should be given points for creativity.”
Her spine was stiffer than the real Eiffel Tower as she looked at all the faces judging her. Still, she held her breath. Her future was in their hands. No matter what happened, she couldn’t break, she wouldn’t crumble.
“You were graded for your creativity.” Simone leaned back in his chair and dabbed his mouth with his linen napkin. “And found lacking.”
“You, sir, are so very wrong. I lack for nothing.” With that, she turned her back and flounced from the room. It didn’t matter now what she said or to whom. She had bombed out on this, her last competition.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Oh, the humiliation! She was not a loser. Jenna had never lost at anything she’d put her mind to. This was not the way this was supposed to end.
She went back to Grant’s and called Cindy. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can still take the job in Chicago, but what will I tell Grant?”
“Jenna, if you take that job, then you should tell Grant you’re a complete idiot who doesn’t know a damned thing about love and happiness.”
Cindy’s voice rose. “Haven’t you learned anything? This man loves you. He wants to build a life with you. What are you thinking? So what if you failed a cooking competition. And I wouldn’t even call it a failure.”
“I would,” Jenna said.
Cindy ignored her. “Your first competition against people with more training than you, and you came in fifth. That’s pretty good. You’re a fighter. You’re not a quitter. Get out there and build your
business the way everyone else does—one day at a time. You have enough money to float you, and if you need more, Rob and I’ll be more than happy to lend a hand. We owe you big time for helping out with the kids.”
“You owe me nothing. It was the least I could do.”
“See? What is it about you? Why can you do nice things for people, but not let them do anything for you?”
“It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Well, get over it. If you ever want to tear down the wall you’ve built around yourself, then you’ll have to get used to both give and take. If Grant wants to make your life easier, why not let him?” Cindy laughed. “Jenna, really, it doesn’t sound all that scary, does it? Give it a try. You might like it.”
“He does make me happy, but at the same time I want to be an equal partner. I can’t be dependent on him, or anyone.”
“I know, honey. You never will be. Trust me. If I know anything about you, I do know that. But let’s say he decides he wants children with you. Wouldn’t you want to stay at home and look after them?”
Jenna was stumped for an answer. “I don’t know.” She felt uneasy. “Look, Cindy, I should run. I haven’t been able to get hold of Grant. He hasn’t answered his cell for a couple of days. I’m worried. I want to get off the line in case he’s trying to call.”
“Okay, but let me know what’s going on.”
“I will. Thanks for the pep talk.”
She waited several hours, but never heard from Grant. Something was wrong. She just knew it. She called the airlines and booked a flight out in the morning.
* * *
She was able to get connecting flights into La Ceiba on the north coast of Honduras. Reading about Honduras during the flight, Jenna had learned the jungle rivers of the Pico Bonito National Forest were only minutes away. She had also learned that La Ceiba not only had an airport and a bus station, but also modern conveniences such as internet cafes and ATM machines.
After calling the church which was sponsoring the mission, and learned the name of the small, inexpensive hostel where Grant and the team were staying, she had booked a room for herself.
ESCAPE INTO ROMANCE- 4 Book Bundle Page 44