by M. J. O'Shea
He decided on a more “one day at a time” sort of approach. He’d get to the main challenge when he got there.
“Hey, how are you this morning, sweetheart?” It was Sylvia.
Chase had loved her from the start. Most of the contestants had. She reminded Chase a little of his grandmother at home. Sylvia was tiny and birdlike, with a huge bun of silver hair perched on her head. She made food that smelled like home too. Sylvia said she’d been baking for her family for years before she started a mail-order business in her town that had just blown up. Chase wondered if someone as down-to-earth as her could compete against the likes of Kai, Breon, and Carson. Sometimes he wondered if he could.
“I’m doing well. How are you?”
Sylvia smiled. “A little worried about this week’s competition just like everyone else, I’d assume.” She lowered her voice. “My station is right next to Clarissa’s. I teased her one time about being Clarissa from that television show my kids watched when they were young, and she won’t talk to me anymore. I’m waiting for her to spike one of my desserts with something horrible that will get me sent home.”
“She’s a little excitable, isn’t she?” Chase asked.
Sylvia only nodded. He sensed a hidden eye roll in there. Clarissa deserved it. She wasn’t very pleasant to anyone.
They went through hair and makeup and were shuffled into the main kitchens where they completed their challenges. Chase got the shivers. There was something about that room; maybe it was how whenever they were in there, they were scrutinized, judged, and rushed. Whatever it was, it made the whole place feel significant. Everyone eyed Diego Monter, the host. Monter stood in the corner like some high fashion bearer of doom. He was, after all, the one who’d bring them whatever news, good or bad, they were about to get.
The cameras were already rolling. It was obvious the way Diego preened in their direction. He then turned to the milling crowd of chefs.
“This mini-challenge is both easy and difficult. You’re making….” There was a dramatic pause, just like there always was. Chase almost wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew the stakes were high and he also wanted to be successful. “Fruit salad.”
Fruit salad? Seriously. How was that even a challenge? Or perhaps it was a huge challenge since it should be the easiest thing in the world to chop up some fruit, but it would be the hardest thing to come up with a unique way to do it.
“There’s more.” Chase could’ve sworn Diego smirked. Of course he did. Bastard.
There was a rolling grumble among the contestants. Of course there was more. When was there ever not? They’d taken it easy on them for the challenges the first week. It would probably only get harder from there.
“First, you’ll have a partner. Sink or swim together. And you’ll be competing for extra time on the clock at the end of the week for our main challenge.” He smiled. “Here’s the rest of it. Your fruit salad can have five fruits, and those five fruits will somehow have to represent the great city of New York.”
There was another loud mumble that went through the contestants. Chase didn’t think that was too bad of a stipulation. That would probably be his doom.
“Notice there aren’t any apples on the table. We’re not that nice.” Diego smiled. Chase kind of hated him. The guy hadn’t even done anything, but there was something smarmy about his smile.
“You’ll need to justify each ingredient and put them together with a delicious dressing that will persuade our judges to award your team with extra time. The top two fruit salads will get an extra half an hour; the bottom two will get a half an hour taken away from the usual allotted time. I hope you consider your choices wisely!”
Everyone mumbled quietly at that, although it wasn’t exactly a surprise. Last time it had been fifteen minutes, but there were two of them in a team. It made sense.
Diego smiled. “Please. Come forward. I will have the top three from yesterday’s judging pick a partner first, and then we’ll move alphabetically.”
Kai had been in the top three, as had Clarissa. Breon went first since he’d won the opening challenge. He dipped his hand into the pot and pulled out a name.
“Chase.”
He was working with Breon. Perfect. Chase had been worried he was going to get stuck with Dreya, who’d want to do something really weird, or Aaron, who’d probably just run around like he was having a panic attack and not get anything done. They quickly moved to Breon’s workstation and huddled together.
“So, dude, no apples. What are we going to do?” Breon muttered.
“I think we can do this. It’s more about coming up with a reason than anything else.”
Breon nodded, and they got to work planning.
When the buzzer rang, Chase and Breon rushed to the table, and each grabbed their assigned fruits. Then Chase grabbed a bottle of balsamic and some mint. The salad was going to be simple, but it had to taste good or else he’d screw them both out of time and bragging rights.
“We got everything?” Breon asked. Chase hadn’t meant to put him in charge, but he had been the winner, so technically this was his team. Chase just wanted to be cooperative and helpful.
Breon gave him a tight smile. “Good. Let’s start chopping.”
They slivered the fruit into sophisticated thin slices and arranged them on the plate, cantaloupe to represent Zabar’s lox for the Upper West Side brunch crowd, grilled peaches for the Village, homey but still chic. Blueberries to represent the musical history of Harlem, star fruit for Midtown to represent the stars of the stage. It looked beautiful, at least. Who knew if the judges were going to buy it? He hoped like hell they did.
Chase’s back started to sweat under the cameras and the harsh studio lights. He hadn’t gotten used to being filmed yet. Especially so close. Cameras shoved between him and Breon, got all up in their space and zoomed in on what they were doing. He assumed there’d be a voice-over later added for the viewers. He wished the damn cameras would stay away from him for five minutes, just long enough to gather some of his composure. Chase’s heart pounded a little, and then a lot. He knew he didn’t deal with stress very well.
He breathed a lot better when the cameras were away from them.
“Chase, can you handle the star fruit?”
“Sure. I’m on it.”
He grabbed a mandolin and started to cut the yellow fruit flesh into thin but stable slices. They were going to pile them in the middle like a version of Midtown’s Empire State Building, rising old and strong in the middle of the city. They had five more minutes.
“Who’s going to talk?” Breon asked.
“Why don’t we split it? I’ll talk about the ones I grabbed, you talk about yours. That way they can’t dock us for lack of teamwork.”
“Sounds good. Let me start on the mint balsamic.”
Chase nodded and went to finish slicing the fruits as fast and as perfectly as he could, laying them out around the tower of star fruit slices perfect and orderly, just like the streets of the city.
“How we doing for time?” Breon asked.
“Two minutes.”
“Balsamic is ready, but I don’t want to pour it until we present. I wish I could’ve had time to reduce it.”
“That would’ve been perfect,” Chase agreed. “These challenges are too short for that, though.”
Breon grunted in agreement. “It’ll have to work. It better work. I don’t know what’s up for later, but I want that damn extra time.”
Chase laughed. “Me too. Jesus.”
He remembered at that moment that he was supposed to be fighting with Kai. He didn’t know how they were going to not get along in front of the camera when they were too busy sprinting to get their damn challenges done. He glanced over at Kai, who looked at him softly for a second, then made to hide what they were working on as if Chase was going to steal their ideas. Chase had to hold back a giggle. Instead he rolled his eyes as if he’d ever in a million years steal ideas from Kai, and went back to his partn
er.
“Is it weird for you two to play enemies?” Breon whispered.
“Not really.” Chase whispered back. “It’s kind of a laugh. We just get along so well. We barely know each other, but I can’t imagine not liking him. So it’s kind of fun just to play along.” Sometimes. Sometimes it was a pain in the ass. At least it had been the week before.
Breon nodded. “Hopefully it doesn’t get weirder.”
“No time for it to, Jesus. If they stick us together on a challenge, I suppose we’re going to have to clash more visibly. I’m not sure how we’ll manage that. I’m not exactly an actor.”
“Yeah, none of us are. We’re behind the scenes in the kitchen, right?”
Chase was glad Breon saw how stupid it all was. “Exactly. Okay, done with the fruit. They’re going to call time in thirty seconds.”
Breon watched the clock, and just as time was running out, he drizzled their dressing over the fruit and lightly sprinkled it on the tower in the middle.
“Time!” Chase said right as the buzzer went off. “We made it.”
“That wasn’t too bad. Hopefully the judges buy our masterpiece of New York architecture.”
Chase grinned. He and Breon exchanged high fives.
They carried their tray up to the judging table and set it down. Basil looked pinched like he always did every time Chase saw him. He’d had an immediate bad reaction to him. The other two Chase didn’t know much about just yet. He supposed he was going to get to know them fairly quickly.
He looked up when Diego called him and Breon to the table. Judgment time.
They were the second team to be called up to talk through their creation, after Al and Jenna, who had underwhelmed the judges. Chase let Breon talk to start, explaining his ideas for the glaze, which was really the standout element of the dish.
“Why don’t you tell us about the choice of fruits, Chase?” Emilio said as he dug his fork into the big pile of star fruit.
“I—uh,” Chase stammered, then pulled himself together and launched into the spiel they’d discussed about the different fruits. Emilio nodded along, Nicolette took a small bite of each of the fruits, then set her fork down, and Basil didn’t look impressed.
“Balsamic and fruit isn’t the most original combination,” Basil said. “But it works, I’ll grant you that.”
Chase nodded but didn’t trust his voice, so he didn’t say anything else. Breon thanked the judges and took the half-finished plate back to their station.
Kai and his partner, Aaron, were up next, and Chase watched with growing horror as the judges tore their creation apart. For some reason Aaron had decided to make some kind of unsweetened custard instead of a dressing, which looked like scrambled eggs on the plate. It was disgusting—Chase knew it, the judges definitely did, and by the murderous look on Kai’s face, he knew how bad the situation had just gotten for him.
Fortunately the challenge wasn’t a make-or-break, and no one was being sent home on the back of it. The losers of the challenge—Kai and Aaron, just as Chase had expected—would have time deducted in the final task of the week, which would be tomorrow.
His stomach clenched. Chase hoped Kai could pull off something incredible with less time than the rest of them. Otherwise he could be in trouble.
* * *
It had become a thing for the cast to gather up on the rooftop garden every night after dinner. There was a pool, shallow but brightly lit against the dark Los Angeles sky, groups of chairs, potted plants, and heat lamps for winter, which Chase thought was laughable. Winter. Please. Like L.A. got anything that could be considered winter. Everyone was a glass of wine or two into the evening, and the group wasn’t exactly quiet. Kai waved him over and made room on the love seat he’d been lounging on.
Chase sat down near Kai but made a point not to touch him. It was really weird not to touch him when they spent so much time doing just that any chance they could get. Chance meaning alone. Their only chance to really touch was when they were alone. And of course, they weren’t. Polly was on the roof with them, and Al and Breon and Jenna. Chase thought the others were really nice so far, but he wouldn’t go as far as to say he trusted any of them. Or thought of them as his friends. It was too early, and the rules against romantic involvement were clear in the contract. Chase had to say he understood. So in front of the others? Nothing.
Jenna was a bit intense, that was for sure. She had her northwest laid-back vibe on camera, all fleeces and organic nuts and fruits, but she was in it to win it just like any of the rest of them. And if she could get two of them booted off the show on a technicality, he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t take the chance.
Al seemed like a nice guy; he was genius with cakes so far and his pie had been really well received. Chase was wary of him. He was lucky the producers hadn’t given him much of a role to play. He was just Al. He was a nice guy with a sweet tooth. Chase envied that.
“What do you think the challenge is going to be tomorrow?” Kai asked. He was obviously driven too. Probably a lot more than Jenna, though not as intense as Clarissa. Kai was a person to him, not just a competitor. A soft, sexy, good-smelling person who was an amazing kisser in those rare moments they got to be alone. Chase tried to concentrate on what everyone was saying. Staring at Kai like a moron wasn’t in his best interests.
“I don’t know. They’ve been throwing New York hints at us right and left, haven’t they?”
“There’s a ton of things that go with New York, though.” Polly said. “I mean, they’re famous for cheesecake, I suppose, but there are others.”
Kai groaned next to him. “I hate cheesecake.”
“How can you hate cheesecake? That’s like saying you hate existing.” Al chuckled. He clearly liked his cheesecake. And quite a few other things. Chase didn’t hate or love it. But he wasn’t an expert on making it. He knew they weren’t supposed to do research unless it was specifically allowed, so he figured he’d be winging it if that was what they were going to be making.
“I really hope it’s not that.” Jenna rolled her eyes. “What am I supposed to do with that and still show my point of view as a pastry chef?”
“You’ll figure something out. Maybe they’ll surprise us. It’s awfully obvious to go the cheesecake route. Maybe they won’t.” Polly seemed awfully laid-back about the whole thing. He supposed her plan was just to be as prepared as possible for any outcome.
Kai sighed. “I can only hope.”
He reached up and ran his hand down Chase’s back. Chase leaned into the touch for a few moments, then froze. Shit. Kai’s not supposed to be doing that. Kai froze as well, but Jenna simply smiled.
“Hey. It’s not like you two were a big secret. The way you fake bickered on camera last week when you were supposed to be enemies? It was like watching foreplay.” A round of nods followed Jenna’s statement.
Kai looked seriously embarrassed. “Really?”
“Uh. Yeah.” Polly grinned. “None of us care. We’d have to be huge assholes to get you kicked off for something like that. I mean, if one of us wins because you two have a thing for each other, well, it’s not really winning, is it?”
She had a point. “Thanks, guys,” Chase said.
Kai’s hand stayed on Chase’s back after that, gentle and rubbing, calming. So far Chase hadn’t liked the main competition day, but at least something like his attraction to Kai wasn’t going to get in his way.
“I think we’ll all be fine, anyway,” Breon said.
“Who do you think is in trouble?”
“Dreya. Maybe Louis. He’s a little full of himself, but he’s not backing it up with anything mind-blowing. I don’t know who else. Carson?”
Chase didn’t know everyone yet, but he recognized those names. Of course Carson was in their bedroom, so he knew him, the big deal chef from New York, so he’d maybe have an advantage in the next round. And everyone knew Dreya. “Aaron?” he added. He felt a little bad discussing those who weren’t there, but he supposed it
was part of being in a competition. “He doesn’t seem to have a focus.”
“Yeah, but he pulled out a great pie last week. He wasn’t in the bottom three,” Jenna reminded them.
“You’re right. I guess it’s really hard to say. Hell, I won last week, but there’s no immunity ever. I could go home on Friday,” Breon said.
Polly snorted. “Don’t you wish there was? Then it would be a lot easier.”
“We don’t need immunity,” Al said. He puffed his chest out and tried to look tough and not like a huge teddy bear. Everyone grinned and chuckled at him.
“Maybe you don’t, but I’d sure appreciate it,” Polly said. “The judges barely knew I existed last week.”
“There are still lots of us. It’ll happen eventually,” Chase said. Polly was a good chef. Maybe a little easy to miss in the shuffle of huge personalities, but good.
“Hopefully not at the bottom, though,” she muttered. Nobody wanted to get feedback on their work if it meant standing up there, wondering if they were the one to get the axe.
“Maybe you’ll win this week. Maybe I will.” Chase smiled reassuringly. “Anyway, It’s getting late. I think I’m going to head back down so I won’t be a zombie when it’s time to get up in the morning. Challenge days are always such a pain in the ass to wake up for.”
“This is only our second main challenge day,” Kai teased him.
“I know. I’m just not looking forward to it. You coming down?” he asked.
Everyone else started giggling. “Ooooh,” Jenna teased. She zipped up her fleece vest.
“Please. We’re not going to do that here. Besides. Aaron is in there. Snoring.” There were more giggles.
“Good luck with that,” Breon muttered. “Actually, good luck to him. He’s probably not going to make his whole time here without seeing more of you two than he’d planned.”
Chase felt heat rise to his cheeks. “Night, guys” was all he could manage. He wasn’t used to blatant teasing from almost-strangers.