Romancing the Chef

by Robyn Amos

  Here she was crying over a man yet again. As always, the signs had been there and she’d ignored them. She’d also convinced herself that if she kept things light and fun, no man could hurt her. Wrong again.

  As she always did when things like this happened, Ronnie picked up her cell phone and dialed Cara’s number. After several rings she heard a groggy “Hello?”

  Not picking up on her friend’s sleepy voice, Ronnie said, “It happened again,” without preamble.

  “Before I ask you what happened, I just want to make sure you know that it’s three a.m. here.”

  Ronnie’s eyes went wide and she smacked her forehead. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry. Go back to bed.” Embarrassed, she hung up the phone.

  Seconds later, her cell phone rang. “Ronnie, I’m awake now. Tell me what happened.”

  “Do you think they need chefs in convents? Because I think the safest place for me is an environment without men.”

  “What happened with Ace? I just saw a story about the two of you on the entertainment news channel. It looked like you two were getting along great.”

  “Well, that news story is the problem. He and his publicist cooked up a plan to start a showmance with me so they could get extra press for his new cookbook.”

  “Wait a minute. He told you this?”

  “No, I overheard them.” Ronnie told Cara how she’d left the luau to find Ace and heard him talking with Garett.

  Cara was quiet for a moment. “I don’t believe it. Ace is a great guy. You know him. Are you sure he was in on the plan? Maybe his publicist realized the two of you were dating and took it upon himself to capitalize on that fact.”

  “That’s not how it sounded. I heard Garett say he told Ace to get involved with me. Then he had to reassure him that he wasn’t stuck with me if Ace wanted to date other girls.”

  “It’s hard to believe Ace would go along with this. Have you talked to him?”

  “No, and I don’t plan to. LQ tried to warn me. She said he did something similar to a model friend of hers. But like you, I couldn’t believe he’d stoop that low.”

  Cara sighed heavily. “Wow. Are you going to be okay, Ronnie?”

  She lifted her chin. “Yes. Tomorrow is round two of the Food Fight. Now I don’t just want to beat him. I need to. I have to show him that he can’t hurt me.”

  “Good for you. Don’t let this stand in the way of yourgoals. For what it’s worth, Ronnie, you shouldn’t beat yourself up over this. Nobody could have anticipated this. It doesn’t mean you’ll never find true love.”

  Ronnie shook her head bitterly. “I’m glad you found it, Cara, but I’m starting to realize that it may not be for everyone. The women in my family seem to be magnets for the wrong men. We seem to do much better when we give up and go it alone.”

  She could tell her friend wanted to talk about it further, but Ronnie had wasted enough time thinking about Ace. From here on out, it was about winning and nothing else.

  The morning of the competition, all the chefs were herded to an outdoor canopy where they would be told the terms of the second round. Just as Ace had suspected, they were going to be cooking outside in the tropical sun all day.

  When he spotted Ronnie, he immediately rushed to her side. He’d been trying to reach her since the night before. She’d disappeared from the luau and hadn’t answered her phone. Finally, Ace had decided she’d gotten tired and had gone to sleep early to rest for today’s competition.

  “There you are. I couldn’t find you last night,” he said, greeting Ronnie with a smile.

  “I went to bed early,” she said coldly, without looking up at him.

  Puzzled, his eyes strayed to LQ who glared in his direction.

  “That’s what I figured. I’m sorry if I disappeared for too long,” he said, wondering if she’d gotten upset when he’d left so suddenly. “I did come back to look for you. I at least wanted to tell you good-night.”

  Ronnie shrugged without looking at him, clearly indifferent to his presence. Ace bristled. He knew she’dbe in the zone today, but did she have to act like he didn’t exist? Ace stared in disbelief at her profile, but there really wasn’t anything more to say. The host announced that they’d be getting started soon, and he had to join Marcel.

  “Okay, well, good luck today.”

  Ronnie finally raised her eyes to meet his, and they were as cold as shards of ice. “I won’t need it. But you will.”

  Ace almost physically shivered. Muttering under his breath, he crossed over to Marcel. His sous chef, picking up the vibe said, “Did you two have a falling out or does she just have her game face on?”

  Ace sighed. “I don’t know, but I can’t worry about it. It’s all about the food now.”

  The show’s host took his mark, and the producer cued the camera operators. To Ace’s surprise, the host was going to tell them the day’s challenge on camera.

  “Welcome to round two of the All-Star Food Fight here on Gourmet TV. In just a few minutes we’re going to release our remaining competitors to their workstations to prepare a tropical feast.”

  Ace watched the monitor and saw the camera pan to four kitchen setups on the grounds where soon the afternoon sun would be beating directly down on them.

  “The catch is that each chef is going to have three mystery ingredients that are popular in Hawaii that they must use in their dishes,” the host continued. “One will be a protein, one will be produce and the final ingredient will be a spice. And to make sure we’re taking things to the next level, each contestant is responsible for providing a carved fruit centerpiece to help showcase their dish.”

  Ace smacked Marcel on the back. The fruit sculpture was the only part of the challenge they’d been made aware of ahead of time. Marcel would be in charge of that section of the contest while Ace focused on the main course. Hecouldn’t wait to find out what his ingredients would be. As soon as he saw them, he’d have to work fast to compose a winning dish.

  The rest of the host’s spiel was standard to the other Food Fights Ace had participated in. The host introduced the judges and talked about how they’d be scoring based on taste, presentation and originality.

  “Okay, chefs. You will have one hour to complete your tropical feast for the judges, and your time begins now.”

  Four teams of chefs began running across the lawn. Ace got to his kitchen first and found a giant box sitting on his cutting board.

  Pulling the lid off the box, he began to unload it. His first ingredient was a large portion of ahi tuna. A smile overtook his face right away. In preparation for this round of the competition, he’d been studying Hawaiian cuisine, and there were more than a few mentions of ahi tuna. Several dishes came to mind.

  The next thing out of the box was jicama, a root vegetable with a creamy white interior similar to a potato. Ace nodded, thinking things were off to a great start.

  Reaching down into the box he pulled out a pork loin. Confused, he studied it for several minutes. He turned to Marcel who was already gathering fruit from the shared pantry for his sculpture. “I thought we were only getting one protein.”

  Marcel shrugged, already concentrating on his task.

  Then he saw the cameras running from Etta’s station, where they’d been watching her unpack her box, to Ronnie’s station next to Ace’s. He looked over and saw her waving the judges to her workspace.

  “I have no protein. Instead I have taro, wasabi and huli-huli sauce. Produce and two spices.”

  Hearing that, Ace figured it was a good time for himto speak up. “There must have been some mix-up with the boxes. I have two proteins and no spice. Should we swap?”

  Ace caught Ronnie’s eye and she glared at him. He splayed his hands palm up to her, trying to communicate that he’d had nothing to do with it. But she just averted her eyes while the judges huddled to make a decision.

  After visiting all the kitchens, the judges determined that Ace’s and Ronnie’s boxes were the only ones that were mixed up. The ju
dges and the two chefs involved gathered in front of their workstations.

  “How do you want to decide which ingredients go to which chef?” the host asked.

  “Let’s just make it easy,” Ace volunteered. “Ronnie can choose which protein she wants and which spice to give me.”

  One of the judges, Chef Lomi, frowned at Ace. “Are you sure you want to put your fate in your competitor’s hands?”

  “Yeah, it’s no problem. We just need to get this resolved so we can get back to our kitchens and start cooking.”

  He was also hoping that by taking the high road, he’d get Ronnie to stop glaring at him. It was one thing to take the competition seriously, but it was another thing to make it into an all-out war.

  “Fine,” Ronnie said, showing no signs of lightening up. “I want the ahi and he can have the wasabi.”

  Ace’s heart sank. It wasn’t until she took the tuna that he realized how much he’d wanted it. He could have made an amazing ahi poke. The raw-fish salad was a delicacy in Hawaii and would have been light and refreshing on such a hot day. But they’d lost so much time already that Ace didn’t have the luxury to mourn his loss. Instead he had to regroup quickly and try to make a decent dish out of hisjicama, pork and wasabi. Marcel was already elbow deep into his pineapple carving, so that was the one thing Ace didn’t have to worry about.

  Looking at the clock, Ace began to panic for the first time. He realized that he’d let his relationship with Ronnie interfere with his drive to win. Had he really just given up the best ingredients just so she wouldn’t be angry with him? And for what? Her mood toward him still seemed to be as sour as ever.

  Ace stared at his ingredients but nothing was coming together in his head. For the first time since he agreed to compete, he was worried that he might not make it any further.

  Ronnie stood before the judges confidently. Despite her rocky start, she and LQ had remained focused and had worked together like a well-oiled machine. Instinctively, Ronnie knew she was about to present the best dish she’d made in a Food Fight challenge to date.

  “Welcome, Ronnie,” the host said as the camera panned over her presentation. “Would you please explain to the judges what you’ve prepared for them today?”

  As soon as she’d had the taro, ahi and the huli-huli sauce laid out before her, a dish began to formulate in her mind.

  “I seared the ahi and flavored it with a spicy fruit salsa and stacked it on a bed of crunchy taro chips. I like to call them huli-huli chips because they’ll make you want to do the hula-hula,” she said, swaying her hips in a hula dance.

  The judges nodded, starting to sample her dish. Kari Voegler looked up and smiled. “Ronnie, after the mix-up with the ingredients, you had the opportunity to choose which protein and spice you wanted to keep. You made arisky choice by keeping the huli-huli sauce with the tuna instead of the pork. What made you decide to do that?”

  “Huli-huli sauce is a marinade of ginger and soy sauce that’s similar to teriyaki, so yes, it would have been a brilliant match with the pork. But my other option was wasabi, which I’d used in my first-round dishes. I chose the huli-huli sauce because I didn’t want you all to accuse me of being a one-trick pony. Taking the ahi was a no-brainer. It was a beautiful cut, and I was excited to use it.”

  Chef Sam Lomi spoke next. “I love the huli-huli chips you made from the taro.”

  Taro, a purple root used in the traditional Hawaiian poi, was known to be gluey and bland. It would have been easy for Ronnie to panic when she saw it in her box. Instead of using the sauce on her fish, Ronnie chose to slice the taro thin, marinate it with huli-huli and deep-fry it into crispy chips.

  “Taro is a tough ingredient to use,” Chef Lomi continued, “and I’m impressed with your creativity as well as your flavors. Making the chips sweet instead of salty was an inspired choice. The contrast of the crunchy chips and the tender fish is delightful.”

  Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief. Her salt and sugar had been mislabeled, and the sweet instead of savory chips were a happy accident.

  “I’d like to talk about your fruit carving,” Chef Pelletier said.

  Framing the fish platter were LQ’s painstakingly carved tropical flowers made from mangos, melons, starfruit and pineapples.

  “The carvings your sous chef created are bright and colorful. It’s not overly complex, but they are beautiful and complement your plate.”

  Ronnie thanked the judges and headed back to thecanopied area where the other chefs were waiting. “This time, I’m not going to be at the bottom,” she told herself.

  Ace couldn’t believe he was in the bottom two and now facing elimination. Once again, Etta Foster had come in first, and Ronnie, in a valiant comeback, had placed second with only two points keeping her from the top spot.

  Sweat beaded on his brow as the host recapped the judges’ comments. “Ace, the judges thought your spicy wasabi pulled pork and jicama salad were good but lacked creativity, but your tiki statue carved out of pineapples was impressive.”

  He shot Marcel a grateful look. If they made it out of this round, Marcel would get all the credit. They’d managed to dodge another disaster when they’d discovered that two of the feet on the base they’d brought for the sculpture had broken off. Thankfully, Marcel was able to think on his feet and prop up the base with carved fruit.

  As for his part, Ace just hadn’t been able to get his thoughts together fast enough to create a dish he could be proud of.

  The host turned to Stewart’s workstation. “Stewart, your ingredients were breadfruit, dried beef and soy sauce. The judges thought your presentation was beautiful but your flavors were overpowered by too many components.

  “The question of the day is, Who will be going home, and who will move on to compete in Paris against Etta Foster and Veronica Howard?”

  Ace held his breath as the announcer paused during what had to be the longest thirty seconds of his life. He’d never once imagined that he would mess up so completely. If he was sent home—

  “Stewart Compton, you’ve been knocked out and will not move on in the All-star Food Fight.”

  Stewart let out a dramatic shriek. But all Ace could hear was his own breath pouring out of his lungs in one long, relieved sigh. He didn’t ever want to feel this way again.

  It was okay to lose. If he wasn’t as good as his competitors, he was man enough to face that. But today he’d nearly defeated himself. He’d let his emotions stand in the way of doing his best, and he couldn’t afford to let that happen again.

  He looked across the yard at Ronnie, where she was standing with Etta Foster and their sous chefs. Ronnie still wouldn’t look at Ace.

  “That was a close one, buddy.” Garett had jogged over to clap him on the back. “I have to admit, you had me sweating there for a minute.”

  Looking into his friend’s eyes, a sinking sensation washed over Ace. Was it possible that Ronnie had overheard him speaking with Garett last night? They’d been talking in the hallway outside his room. If she’d decided to come after him—

  He shook his head at Garett. “Oh man, Ronnie’s not speaking to me, and I think it may be all your fault.”

  His friend blanched. “Me? What did I do? I haven’t even spoken to her.”

  “I couldn’t find her after we talked last night, and she’s been giving me the cold shoulder all day. I think she might have overheard us in the hallway.”

  Garett shrugged. “So? What could we have said that was so bad?”

  “Are you kidding me? I was telling you to call off the publicity stunts, and you were talking about showmances and me being free to date other women. Now she probablythinks our entire relationship was nothing but a publicity stunt cooked up by you.”

  Garett grimaced. “Yeah, that sounds like something I would do. Well, all you have to do is set her straight.”

  Ace chewed his lower lip. “It’s going to be nearly impossible to convince her to see me at this point.”

  “Then cu
t your losses. To be honest, after your piss-poor performance today, it’s clear that this relationship is nothing but a distraction. She’s the enemy, for heaven’s sake. If you want to get it on with her, you should wait until the competition is over.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him,” Marcel chimed in as he cleared off their workstation.

  Ace rubbed his temples. Things would be so much simpler if he just wrote the whole thing off. But he wasn’t ready to do that. And the thought of letting her think he’d been playing her this entire time made him feel sick.

  “I know what you both think, but I have to clear the air with her. Regardless of what goes on between us, from now on nothing is going to stand in the way of my winning this competition. I can promise you both that much.”

  Both men gave him skeptical grumbles, but Ace’s mind had already moved on. How was he going to get Ronnie to listen to him, and more importantly, believe him?

  He’d already spent half the previous evening and part of the morning calling her. If she wouldn’t answer then, she wasn’t going to answer now. And that made it a safe bet that she wouldn’t open the door to him if he knocked.

  Suddenly, an unconventional solution came to mind. Perhaps what he needed was a little hair of the dog that bit him.

  Ace turned to Garett. “Do you think you can use your powers for good instead of evil?”

  His friend shook his head. “Hmm, it’s not really my area of expertise.”

  Grabbing Garett by the arm, he said, “It is now. I need your help.”

  Back in her room that evening, Ronnie tried not to think about Ace as she packed her bag. Tomorrow the remaining chefs in the competition would fly to the GTV studio in California to do the voice-overs for the first two rounds of the All-Star Food Fight.

  The final round in Paris would tape live next week after a special double episode of the first two rounds aired that weekend.

  Ronnie took the last three dresses out of her closet and placed them in her garment bag. She’d avoided packing them until now because they were the ones Ace had helped her pick out in Las Vegas. Now, staring at the empty closet, she’d been tempted to leave them hanging there. But they’d cost her too much money for that. But the bikini, which she hadn’t paid for, was in the trash can.