Kenzie
Reece had been smirking at me since I had come back to our room. It wouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to know why, but I ignored her teasing jabs. Her fears when I had first woken up were valid, and I needed to take my mind off of a certain redhead and place it all on the challenge ahead. There were very few competitors left in the competition so my chance to score the contract was improving. I wished that would’ve made me less nervous, but it didn’t. In fact, it scared me even more.
There was a certain expression I had always heard growing up, and even now, it still made my face scrunch up in disgust. Always a bridesmaid, but never a bride.
It was true. I was always good enough to fuck, but not to settle down with. And it wasn’t just my love life where I always seemed to be a runner up. I had applied to more kitchens than I could count when I first made it to New York City, and each time, I had gone for multiple interviews only to finish last in the end. I never got those jobs, but women like Leeann DeSoto did. In fact, the restaurant where she currently worked had passed me over for her.
“You’re looking lost, Kenzie,” Reece whispered, and I realized I was just standing there in the pantry, staring off into space.
“I’m okay. I’m just trying to find the ginger. I—”
“It’s right here,” she told me, then reached around me to grab the fibrous root from the shelf.
“Thanks.” I grabbed it from her, then headed back to our station. We were supposed to put together a three-course meal using inspiration from at least five different cultures.
I had chosen to do a Mexican flatbread for the first course, followed up with ginger chicken tacos and a barbecued pork bánh mì, and lastly an apple strudel for dessert. I would be incorporating Italian, Latin, Asian, American, and German influences into my courses. Thankfully, a lot of the flavors I planned to use could be incorporated in different types of cuisine. My culinary training in Europe was going to pay dividends here. A lot of the other chefs in the competition tended to cook the same types of food, so I hoped this would set me apart and not be too ambitious to complete.
I returned to my station and ignored the searing gaze of Jonas’s and started to prepare the ginger for the tacos. Reece soon took her place beside me and as she worked on getting the proteins seasoned and ready, I did the same for the vegetables. This far in the competition, it was important to have nothing out of place. Every cut and chop had to be perfectly uniformed, and nothing could be under or over seasoned. If anything was, I would be walking out of this hotel today.
I wondered if Jonas would potentially seek me out after this competition was over, and I shook my head wryly. Of course, he wouldn’t. I looked back down at the cutting board and cursed.
Reece stopped what she was doing and looked over at me just as I scraped the oregano into the trash can. I had chosen the wrong kind. Mistakes like this would end my chance at survival in this city and business. I shook my head at her, then hurried back to the pantry to find the correct kind. I returned, washed my cutting board, then picked back up where I left off. Once I had all the different herbs chopped, I pushed them off to the sides. Replacing that board with another, this time I began to peel and chop the apples. My great grandfather was German, and this dessert was one that my grandmother used to make for him until his death.
It was the only dish of mine that didn’t include some other element in it, but I was confident that the flavors would explain why. This recipe was special to my family, and as such, I didn’t want to tinker any with it. I knew exactly how it would look, smell, and taste. I just hoped the judges would appreciate the sentimental value of this dessert. Once I got it all in the pan, I placed it in one of the ovens.
When the counter was sparkling clean, that’s when I decided to get the things out to make a vanilla ice cream. A good apple strudel had to have that. I would also dust it with powdered sugar, and my mouth was already watering thinking about how good it would taste. My opinion wasn’t the one that mattered, however, and when I glanced over at Leeann’s station, I could see her holding out a fork of something for Jonas.
Whatever she’d prepared, he seemed happy enough with it. He even grabbed a second bite. I rolled my eyes slightly, then turned to the rest of the items I needed to prepare. Most of the meat was already cooking, and the prep was all done, so I moved closer to Reece and started to carefully inspect every element.
“Don’t pay her any attention, Kenzie. Leeann is a slut, and everyone knows it. In fact, it doesn’t appear that you were the only one getting busy last night.”
I normally didn’t care about gossip, but I looked up at Reece. “What?” Had Jonas fucked her first, then me? Or was I the starting course. Bile rose up in my throat.
“No, not him,” she quickly replied, which relaxed me slightly.
“Then who?”
“Oliver,” Reece answered, and I looked over at the man standing beside Jonas.
Damn!And while I hadn’t fucked Jonas for any advantage, I would never be able to say the same about her. Oliver was grinning from ear to ear, and I could see how happy he was with whatever she was now letting him sample.
Things like this was exactly the reason I would never get ahead. She had tried to put the moves on Jonas, and when it didn’t work, she moved on to another judge. Sometimes, Jonas would disappear during the taste testing and if he did now, Oliver would likely award Leeann the entire competition. I wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all, but the two men were walking straight toward me.
I smiled when they reached my station, and then on command, I explained what I would be serving them. Oliver seemed preoccupied and I knew why. A small pit formed in my stomach, but I pretended to be calm and collected. Jonas at least seemed interested enough in what I was serving, and after my description, the two left.
I let out a harsh exhale, and Reece looked at me in question. I shrugged. Neither had really asked for a taste, and when I had suggested letting them sample the menu, both had declined. I didn’t let that bother me, and just focused on preparing everything. The plating was on point, and I knew I had married the flavors to perfection. I was very confident going into the judging aspect of it, but it all dissipated when Oliver kept finding fault with anything he could. And it wasn’t just mine that he did. In fact, he criticized everyone except for Leeann who got rave reviews for the simplest of dishes.
“You’ve given us all a lot to think about. We need an hour to talk this over. I have a bartender at the downstairs bar, so get yourselves a drink,” Jonas told us, and we all filed out of the competition area.
I was so nervous and a bit lightheaded. I needed to get my medicine, so I excused myself and walked up to my room. I was always very careful to keep up with all my prescriptions because they were so vital to me and my mental health. That was why when I got to my room, I was surprised to not see my bag there. I looked in the closet, under the beds, the bathroom, and even around the room.
Don’t panic, I thought as I tried to remember where I’d had it last.
The morning came into focus and I remembered grabbing it on my way upstairs to see Jonas. I had left my bag in his room when we’d had sex earlier. I slapped my hand against my face. I couldn’t just go up to his room, and I knew I’d have to think of a reason to return later. For now, I needed to remain calm. I did do one more search of my room to be sure, then returned downstairs. Reece was at the bar and talking animatedly to someone on her phone. I left her there and walked to the nearby bathroom. When I opened the door, I heard hushed voices and stopped to listen.
“Ollie told me I have this in the bag,” Leeann was telling her sous chef. The women cackled, but I stayed quiet.
“What about MacKenzie? Jonas seems to like her a lot. I noticed he gravitates toward her at events,” the woman asked, obviously not as confident as Leeann.