Where There's a Whisk

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Where There's a Whisk Page 23

by Sarah J. Schmitt


  “Congratulations,” Jessica says. “You survived a hectic day running a food truck. Unlike our previous challenges, the winner of this competition will be determined by your sales totals and your tip jars.”

  Hakulani and I grin at each other. Sure, Paulie and Malik had a good turnout, but we actually ran out of food. And while I didn’t have a lot of time to watch the tip jar, it was pretty full by the end of the day.

  “All of your profit and tips will be combined and donated to Feeding America, a nonprofit organization that supports food banks, soup kitchens, shelters, and other community organizations,” Jessica says, her face bright and excited.

  We all clap and cheer.

  Oscar and Eddie move in to stand on either side of her, each carrying an envelope. The cheering grows louder as our mentors take their places.

  Jessica grins and waits for us to settle down. “I was going to say let’s give a hand to Oscar and Eddie, but I think you just did.” Turning to Eddie, she says, “I believe you have the final profit for Malik and Paulie.”

  He nods and holds it up. “First, I want to say working with these young men was a lot of fun. They both work hard and have great ideas. I would trust either of them with my truck.”

  Paulie laughs and claps his hands together. “Let me know when you need a vacation.”

  I smile but keep my eyes on the envelope.

  Eddie opens the flap and pulls out the card inside. “Not bad,” he says before spinning it around. “One thousand eighty-six dollars and forty-five cents.”

  Paulie and Malik slap hands.

  “Yes!” Malik says.

  Paulie shoots a grin at us. “Beat that,” he says.

  “No problem,” Hakulani says, but he’s lacking his normal confidence.

  “That’s a lot of money for Feeding America,” Jessica says. “Great job.” She turns to Oscar. “And what about your team?”

  Oscar looks at us and nods his head. “I want to echo my brother. Working with these aspiring chefs reminded me why I love what I do. Watching them brainstorm the menu and concept was a lot of fun. But,” he says, holding up the envelope and shaking it slightly, “the proof is in the pudding.”

  As he lifts the envelope flap and slides the card out, my stomach flip-flops. I really want to win this competition, but Malik and Paulie made a lot of money. I don’t know if we even came close.

  “Four hundred thirty-two dollars and fifty cents,” Oscar says, and my heart drops.

  No way did we make so little.

  “I’m sorry,” Oscar says, hope reviving in my chest. “That would be one thousand four hundred thirty-two dollars and fifty cents.”

  I jump up as Hakulani turns to pick me up in a hug, and the top of my head connects with his chin. Which makes both of us laugh.

  Jessica giggles and waits for us to settle down. “Congratulations, you have won the challenge and the all-important advantage during the next challenge.”

  Hakulani side hugs me. “This is awesome.”

  “Right,” I say. “I really needed a win.”

  To their credit, Paulie and Malik come over to congratulate us.

  “Nice job,” Paulie says, giving me a hug.

  “Thanks. You guys were serious competition.”

  Jessica interjects. “You both did a great job, and you raised over twenty-five hundred dollars for Feeding America.”

  Everyone applauds and cheers again.

  “But your next competition is a very important elimination. After that, we will be down to the final three.”

  Her words hit us all hard, and all the joy of winning the competition is sucked out of the room.

  I adore all these guys and don’t want anyone to leave, but this is a competition, and someone has to go. These thoughts occupy my mind as I return to my dressing room to drop off my chef’s uniform and change into my clothes. When I exit, Hakulani is waiting for me, and we fall in step with each other as we make our way to the bus. As we move down the hall, he reaches out and takes my hand. It’s something he’s been doing all week, but today it feels wrong.

  “You okay?” he asks as we wait for the elevator. It dawns on me that we are alone, without cameras, for the first time since the confessional room.

  I nod, but I’m not okay. “Hakulani, we need to talk about our deal,” I say.

  He looks straight ahead. “Okay.”

  I can’t read his expression, but I’m not sure he’s going to like what I’ve got to say. “We got each other to the final four, but we really shouldn’t drag it out any longer.”

  “You’re right,” he says.

  I nod. “Anyways, we’ve been faux dating for a week. That’s a third of the competition, so when you think of it like that, it’s been a long time.”

  “And you’re sure it’s today? There’s no time for us to have second thoughts and change our minds.”

  “No, I’m not sure; but it’s the right thing.”

  “Okay. So, tonight?”

  I nod as the elevator opens. He leads me in before dropping my hand to push the button. He doesn’t reach for it again. “For this to work, we’re going to have to make a good show for the cameras.”

  “Yep.”

  I lean against the wall. “But I don’t want it to be ugly. I want us to still be friends on and off the show, without people talking.”

  He nods.

  “We’ll order food in, take it to the roof, start talking about what we want to do with our lives, and come to the realization that we just want different things. And while this has been fun—”

  “It’s time for the fun to come to an end?”

  “Exactly.”

  “It has been fun,” he says. “Getting to know you. The real you,” he adds pointedly.

  “I can say the same about you,” I answer.

  As the doors open, he takes my hand. “For old times’ sake?”

  “Why not.”

  We climb aboard the bus and sit down next to each other.

  “It’s weird,” I say, letting go of his hand and looking up at the roof.

  “What is?”

  “Soon there will only be three.”

  “You and me and one of these other dudes,” he says with a grin. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  The drive back to the apartment is quiet. Everyone is lost in their own thoughts. For me, it’s how lucky I am to have made it this far. And that with Dani being gone, I can finally enjoy being in the apartment. I don’t have to worry about her digs.

  Traffic is unusually light as we head home, and it doesn’t take long for us to get there. As the elevator ascends, Malik says, “I think I’m going to order something for dinner and crash early.”

  “Same,” Paulie says. “Not all of us have an advantage. Going to need all the energy I can get for tomorrow.”

  “Where do you want to order from?” I ask.

  Paulie looks thoughtful. “What about the deli next door?”

  I laugh. “You know, even though we’ve had a chance to eat—and make—some amazing food, a deli sandwich sounds perfect.”

  “Right,” Paulie says. “I could go for a pastrami and corned beef.”

  The doors open and I step out first. “Race you to the menu.” I don’t wait for him to respond as I run down the hall to the kitchen.

  “Cheater,” Paulie says as he follows, Hakulani and Malik right behind him.

  I pull out the menu, and after we study it, it’s decided that we’re going to get a sandwich platter with enough slices of corned beef, pastrami, and brisket to feed us and have leftovers for tomorrow.

  “Don’t forget the steak fries,” I say as I head to my room and the bathroom for a quick shower. Hakulani and I might be about to break up, but that doesn’t mean I want to look like I just finished working in a food truck when we do.

  I jump in the shower and let the water wash away all the sweat and smells of the day. Working on the truck was a lot of fun, but I have rice in places I can’t even explain. On
ce I’m clean and dressed, I head back to the kitchen, where a PA is unloading our order.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I say as she lays out the meat on several plates.

  “It’s the job,” she says, and I think it’s the first time I’ve had what could possibly pass as a conversation with a PA since running into the door on day one.

  “Well, thank you,” I say. “You guys have been awesome taking care of us over the last few weeks.”

  She nods. “You’re welcome. Looks like you’re all set.”

  “Thanks again.”

  She nods and disappears down the hall and onto the elevator.

  “Food!” I call out, and I can hear the guys moving in their rooms. A moment later, they swarm the island, loading their bread up with meats and cheese and veggies.

  “Thanks for setting this up,” Malik says.

  “Wasn’t me,” I say, stepping in to grab some brisket. “One of the PA elves was in here setting up.”

  “You mean you actually saw one of them?” Paulie asks. “Do they look like the studio PAs?”

  “You mean like college students? Yes. Just like that. It’s uncanny.”

  Hakulani piles some steak fries on his plate and heads up to the roof.

  “You better go,” Paulie says. He’s sounds like he’s joking, but the words land flat.

  He doesn’t wait for me to answer before he heads back to his room.

  “I know Dani was the bringer of drama,” Malik says, laughing mostly to himself. “But you have these two boys fighting over you, and they don’t even know it.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “It’s exactly like that,” he says and follows Paulie down the hall.

  “If you only knew,” I mutter as I squirt ketchup on my fries and head up to the roof.

  Hakulani already has the firepit on, creating the perfect mood for our breakup. I have to hand it to him. He has a way of making us look good without a lot of work on my part.

  I set my plate down. “Hey,” I say, and I’m startled by how nervous I am. While I haven’t gotten used to the cameras being around, they don’t normally make me nervous anymore. But tonight is different.

  “Hey,” Hakulani says back, and his voice is low and gravelly. He tries to cover by reaching for his drink and taking a gulp.

  “This was a great idea,” I say, holding up my sandwich. “I don’t think I’ve ever put this much meat on a sandwich before.”

  If this is how our breakup is going to go, we’re in a lot of trouble.

  “Can you believe we’ve got less than a week left?” I ask, trying to get the ball rolling.

  He nods. “It’s actually been on my mind a lot,” he says, not looking me in the eye.

  Red flags begin to signal that this feels like I’m being set up to be the dumpee. I calm myself before answering.

  “Because we’re so close to the end?”

  He nods. “And so close to going home. One way or another.”

  I take a bite and chew thoughtfully. I swallow, take a sip of water, and ask, “If you win, hypothetically—because obviously I plan on winning—”

  He laughs and his smile is more natural now. “I’m not so sure about that, but go on.”

  “If you win, where are you going to study?”

  He takes his time answering. “Well, I don’t know if I could handle living on the mainland forever. But at least LA is kinda close to home.”

  I pause, my sandwich halfway up to my mouth. “You wouldn’t stay in New York?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s nice enough,” he says, “in the summer. But I don’t know if you noticed. The Hudson River isn’t exactly the ideal place to surf. And the winters? I don’t know if I could handle it.”

  “But all the food,” I say, trying to make a case for New York.

  He laughs. “They have restaurants in LA, you know. Like, a lot of them.” He pauses for a second. “What about you?”

  “You mean when I win?”

  He nods, picking up a steak fry.

  “I think I’ll stay here. I mean, there’s a campus in Miami, but that’s not my scene.”

  “And New York City is?”

  “I think it could be.”

  “You’re from the South,” he says, like he’s reminding me. “You know this hot weather isn’t going to last forever.”

  “Yeah, but winter doesn’t last forever either, right?”

  “Two days of winter and I would be on a plane home. I might be the wrong person to ask.”

  We sit in silence, letting the first real conversation we’ve had settle down around us.

  “Have you thought about going to school in California?”

  “Too many earthquakes.”

  “Florida has more hurricanes than California has earth-quakes.”

  “Yeah, but you can see a hurricane coming and decide if you want to leave or hunker down. Earthquakes just pop up and surprise you.”

  “So no California,” he says, sadness slipping into his voice.

  I look down at my sandwich and make a point of pushing it away. “And no New York for you.”

  “No.” Hakulani sets his plate on the floor next to him. “So what does that mean?”

  I’m so glad he doesn’t just dump me right now.

  “I don’t know. I mean, no matter what happens, we’re going to be on opposite sides of the country.”

  “And busy trying to break into the business,” he adds.

  “And broke,” I remind him.

  “That goes without saying,” he says with a hollow laugh.

  “So,” I say, the word hanging in the air. Even though I thought I wanted this to be a mutual breakup, I also don’t know how to end it.

  “How about this,” Hakulani says, sounding a little more cheerful. “Instead of taking whatever this is any further, we end on a high note with the Landmark Challenge win, and we walk into the next competition as friends.”

  “Good friends,” I say in agreement.

  We finish our food in silence, soaking in the night sky as the cameras mark the moment our fake relationship evolved into a true friendship.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-ONE

  ONE OF THE DRAWBACKS OF BEING THE LAST GIRL standing is that I’m the only girl. While the boys are playing pool and hanging out, I could really use a chance to talk to someone about feelings and boys—and feelings about boys. But instead I sneak into the kitchen for a lunch consisting of two apples, a cheese sandwich, and a bottle of water before going back to my room. Maybe I should be spending time with the guys, who, from the sound of it, are still playing pool, but there’s something nice about taking it easy—especially since our next competition starts tonight.

  After my breakup with Hakulani last night, I came back to my room to find two garment bags waiting for me on my bed, but I was too wiped out to even look at them. I just picked them up and put them in the closet so I could curl up in bed for a while. Now, I walk to the closet and check out what’s inside. I pull out one labeled with today’s date and the number “1,” and the other bag has tomorrow’s date and the number “2.” I lay bag number one on my bed and unzip it; inside I find a classic yellow A-line dress with a full skirt.

  I can’t lie. I feel like a princess. Right up until I slip on the heels and get the feeling like I’m walking on stilts. Still, looking at my reflection, I do not look like poor girl from Florida. Sweeping my hair up off my neck and trying to pull it into a pretty updo or fancy ponytail, I really wish Inaaya were here—she would know what to do with it. Whatever the next challenge is, it must be fancy. Remembering we get to keep the clothes from the show, I try to think where I could wear something like this back home, and I draw a blank.

  I leave my room and head down the hall, lifting my skirt up a little so I don’t trip on the hem.

  “Wow,” Paulie says when he sees me. “You look incredible.”

  “Thank you,” I say, looking at the guys, who are all dressed in black suits. Looks
like I’m not the only one whose wardrobe has gotten an upgrade.

  “Not too bad yourself,” I reply, reaching over to straighten his tie.

  Word about Hakulani and me must have gotten around because he seems to be in a better mood. Maybe Hakulani was right about him, but I internally shake my head and try to focus on the competition. I’m too close to the end of the show to get distracted and involved with someone else. Plus, I can’t even imagine how Caitlin will spin me in a second romance.

  For the first time, Jessica shows up at the apartment. “Are you guys ready for a trip to Broadway?” she asks. “Because I am.”

  “Broadway?” Malik asks, standing up. “We’re going to a show.” He looks down at his outfit. “That makes more sense.”

  “Not just one show,” Jessica says. “But two. One tonight and one tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Which ones?” Paulie asks.

  Jessica shrugs. “I guess you’ll find out when you get there.”

  He doesn’t have to say anything else. We head straight to the elevators and down to the waiting bus.

  Except when we reach the street, there’s no bus. Instead, there’s a stretch limo waiting for us.

  “A limo?” I say, my eyes wide with disbelief. Now I really feel like a princess. “I’ve never been in a limo before.”

  “It’s your lucky day,” Paulie says as the driver opens the door. “Ladies first.”

  I slip in, sliding across the smooth leather until I’m next to the window.

  Hakulani comes in next, making sure to sit as far away from me as the car will allow. Last night, after the breakup, we wanted to make sure we didn’t give the network any more footage than we already had. Even though we’re both aware that they can cut the scenes together however they want. But for tonight, we’re friendly, but at a distance.

  Paulie steps in, sitting next to Hakulani. Malik sits down next to me. He glances at me and whispers, “My first time in a limo, too.”

  I grin. “The perks are almost worth the fear of getting cut.”

  “I know, right?”

  The limo weaves through traffic until it pulls up in front of the Richard Rodgers Theatre, home of my repeat playlist three years running, Hamilton. I reach over the back of the seat, gripping Malik by the shoulder.

 

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