The next day Sarah’s morning coffee was disrupted by a sharp knock on the door. She was actually kind of glad for a distraction. Raffe had been acting weird, and the morning had been filled with awkward conversation punctuated by long silences.

The friendship she’d felt growing between them had been stunted, and she suspected it was all because of that stupid kiss. She wanted to tell him the kiss didn’t matter, she wanted things to go back to the way they were. But somehow she couldn’t get the words out. She was afraid that was because the words weren’t true and that somewhere deep down inside the kiss had mattered.

So when Jim knocked on the door and summoned them to Scott’s office, she was almost relieved.

On the way, Jim apologetically informed them that yet again there was an accusation against them about cheating, and Sarah guessed correctly as to who was behind it: Brenda.

“This is really starting to get ridiculous,” Sarah said as they entered Scott’s office, hoping no one noticed that her voice was trembling. She had an idea what this was about and hoped that she was wrong.

“You left the resort property the night before last, and you’re not supposed to! It’s against the rules! Cheater!” Brenda, who was already seated in the most comfortable guest chair, screeched as soon as they stepped into the office.

“Do you have proof that she left?” Scott asked Brenda, sounding a bit annoyed with the situation.

“Well, no. But I saw her!” Brenda replied, pointing her finger accusingly at Sarah.

Sarah’s mind raced. Okay, think up an excuse. No wait, don’t say anything. She can’t prove it. Oh crap! We cannot lose the contest over this. Maybe it was better to keep her mouth shut. She was not a good liar.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Brenda, but Sarah was with me. All night.” Raffe put his arm around Sarah and winked. “Believe me, I would have noticed if she left.”

Relief washed over her. Raffe had saved the day. Immediately following her relief, guilt started to kick in. Raffe knew she hadn’t been there, but he was covering for her. Is this what it feels like when someone actually has your back? The only one who had ever looked out for her was Tommy. It felt good to have someone to depend on.

“Brenda, I’ve had enough of your antics, okay? Your accusations have cost us money and time, and so far nothing has come of them. If I were you, I’d focus on my cooking. You’re barely squeaking by as it is. This is the last time I want to hear about any assumptions you have regarding who is doing what.” With a wave of his hand, Scott dismissed her. He then turned to Raffe and Sarah. “I apologize for this, again. I have to follow up on all of these types of issues. I’m sure you understand. Better get a run on; the next contest starts in fifteen minutes.”

Sarah and Raffe both thanked Scott and left, Sarah breathing a huge sigh of relief as she closed the office door behind her.

* * *

Raffe didn’t know why Brenda hated them so much. Maybe she was doing similar things to other contestants. Whatever. All he knew was that he couldn’t let Sarah’s nighttime wanderings get them kicked off, so he’d pretended she was with him in the bungalow.

But he had to wonder where Sarah had gone the other night. Maybe she had gone off the property to meet that ex-boyfriend Tommy. Or maybe she was just going for a stroll and wandered too far. Anyway, he couldn’t ask her now. They needed to focus on cooking.

They went through the usual routine, sweating it out in front of the cameras while Landon enjoyed his on-air time and drew out the announcement of the challenge. This time they were tasked with creating a tropical island dish.

Seafood immediately came to mind, and Raffe went through his mental index of recipes. Tilapia. Mahi Mahi. Grouper.

Sarah was already one step ahead of him, already grabbing a variety of seafood and bringing it back to their station. Shrimp, lobster, Mahi Mahi, and octopus. Octopus could be a challenge to cook right, but maybe Sarah knew what she was doing.

He started up the Jenn-Air grill while Sarah got busy whisking sauces. It was getting so they didn’t even have to talk about who did what anymore.

Sarah was a whiz at creating marinades and dipping sauces, which was perfect because Raffe wasn’t so good at that. Raffe, on the other hand, seemed to have some kind of sixth sense about when meat would be done, and his selections always came out perfect. Their engagement might be fake, but their skills really did complement each other. They made a pretty impressive team.

“What do you think we should do with the octopus? Grill it?” he asked her, leery of doing so. Octopus had a very small window for how long it could be cooked, and if cooked one second longer, it became tough as a tire. At the same time, grilling it would probably be different than any other team’s approach.

“I think grilling is risky but worth it. You can do it; just go easy. Maybe sear it, and I’ll make a dipping sauce.”

Raffe nodded. Searing was a good idea. He only hoped he didn’t overdo it, because it could be their last challenge if he did.

He kept his eyes glued to the octopus, knowing that Sarah was watching him out of the corner of her eye. Instead of it irritating him, he was relieved. He knew if he did something wrong she’d tell him immediately. It was like a welcome system of checks and balances. It was critical they get this right, because if he ruined the food, they weren’t allowed to start a new dish, no matter how much time was left on the clock.

He finished up the dishes, and Sarah plated them as he passed them along to her, adding sauces and various garnishes that added a punch of color. She drizzled the sauces in a funky design and finished by wiping the edges of the plates with a clean towel.

Yep, she’d make a fine head chef at one of his restaurants.

The staff took the tasting dishes to the judges, and Raffe’s pulse notched up as they took their time sampling each dish, sometimes bending their heads together to discuss something. He paid special attention when it came to their dish, watching as they speared the octopus with their forks, scrutinized it from all angles, and finally tasted it.

Raffe wasn’t sure but he thought that Durkin, by far the pickiest of the judges, made a face when he bit into the octopus. He recalled a review Durkin had written in his weekly food column for The New York Times about a restaurant’s shrimp dish, claiming it had been one of the worst dishes he had ever had and that the shrimp tasted like burnt rubber dipped in raw sewage. The restaurant had been shuttered several weeks later.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our judges have the results!” Landon preened for the cameras. “Last time we announced the winners first. This time we’ll start with the losers.”

The audience oohed.

“But first, every team’s dish was wonderful in many ways. It was a hard decision. And such variety…”

Raffe zoned out as Landon blabbed on about the various tastes and how they were judged on taste, inventiveness, and presentation.

“…and even in this close competition, someone must lose. In this case, the team with the lowest score missed the mark on presentation.” Landon paused. “Team Six, Dick and Brenda… I’m sorry, but you’re going home.”

Brenda shrieked. “But—”

Dick grabbed her arm and Raffe heard him whisper, “Shush… we don’t want to be sore losers.”

Raffe glanced at Sarah and found her struggling not to smile. He shouldn’t feel so triumphant, but it served Brenda right. Better yet, Raffe and Sarah wouldn’t be going home!

Landon turned to the audience. “I always hate to see good chefs sent home. But there can be only one winner here. And we’re closer than ever to the final challenge. So now, let’s celebrate as I announce the winners of this challenge… Team One, Raffe and Sarah! They created a seared octopus with a jalapeño-based dipping sauce that the judges agreed was one of the best they’ve ever tasted. Even Franz Durkin.”

Landon’s last comment elicited laughter from the audience as Sarah launched herself excitedly into Raffe’s arms. Caught up in the excitement, he spun her around a few times before putting her down. They were all smiles until they heard the chanting from the crowd.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Raffe looked at Sarah. The panicked look on her face mirrored how he felt. Their smiles froze.

They must look like idiots just standing there. They needed to act like a real engaged couple. Maybe just a quick peck wouldn’t hurt.

He leaned down, maybe a bit too fast, just as Sarah, who must have been thinking along the same lines, launched up on her toes. The top of her head crashed into his chin, sending a jolt of pain along his jaw.

They pulled back, then kissed awkwardly on the cheeks and backed away from each other, him rubbing his chin, she rubbing her head as the audience erupted in laughter.

“It looks like maybe you need to practice that approach a bit more,” Landon joked.

The audience filtered out while the contestants cleaned their stations. Brenda and Dick were stone faced as they gave their area a perfunctory cleaning. Brenda slowed as she passed Raffe and Sarah, her eyes shooting daggers at them both.

“Sorry about your loss,” Sarah said. Brenda just glared.

After Brenda was out of sight, Raffe exchanged looks with Sarah, and they both broke into a smile. She held up her fist for a bump. “Hopefully we won’t have to field anymore accusations now that Brenda is gone.”

“One can only hope.” Raffe slid his chef’s knives into their sleeves and threw the rag on the counter. Their area was spotless except for the pots and pans in the sink, which the staff would remove and scour in the back kitchen.

They headed to the bungalow, Raffe’s heart a little lighter. Another challenge under their belt and a nasty competitor gone. As they walked past Brenda and Dick’s bungalow, Brenda came charging out at them with Dick right behind her.

“I know you two are cheating! And I don’t care that we just lost, I will make sure you two cheaters don’t win! And I’m petitioning for a redo!” Brenda screeched, her arms flailing.

“We aren’t cheaters!” Sarah yelled back. Raffe was surprised at how loud her voice could be. She didn’t usually yell, but apparently Brenda had gotten on her last nerve.

“Brenda, let’s go! Get inside!” Dick pulled on one of Brenda’s arms to get her back inside the bungalow, all the time Brenda still yelling, even as the door closed on her shrieks.

“What was that all about?”

Raffe turned to see Dave and Kim.

“Oh, just Brenda going off the deep end, I guess,” he replied, shaking his head.

“They accused us of cheating!” Sarah blurted to Kim as the two women started to walk ahead of Raffe and Dave along the path.

“That’s ridiculous. You two won fair and square. Great idea on how to cook that octopus, by the way, Raffe.”

“Thanks. The searing was Sarah’s idea. We make a good team.” Raffe had been pretty pleased with the dish.

“Raffe, care to grab a drink?” Dave asked him, nodding toward the beach bar.

Raffe accepted his invitation, and they left the two women sitting on the beach.

The beach bar served the whole resort, but it was fairly empty for late afternoon. They ordered beers in frosty mugs and sat at a bamboo table under a palm tree. The breeze rustled the large palm fronds lazily, and Raffe relaxed into his seat, running his finger down the condensation on his mug.

“So, things are moving fast, huh?” Dave took a sip of his beer.

“Very. It’s good, though, I guess. Though the constant anxiety is starting to kill me.” Raffe said it jokingly, but it was partly true. He was usually cool under pressure, but the constant daily stress of the challenges plus the sabotage and Brenda’s accusations was starting to pile up. Not to mention the kissing.

“Ha! Anxiety! Tell me about it. Try having your entire future riding on this contest!”

Raffe’s heart twisted. He didn’t know what to say. Dave and Kim had nothing. For them, everything was riding on winning the contest. He had never really thought about the fact that after the show ended they had no home to which they could return.

“What are your plans? For after the show, I mean,” he asked, hoping that he wasn’t offending Dave.

Dave sighed. “Well, if we don’t win, then I guess we just go back to the real world, you know. No more beachfront bungalow. We have a tent on the beach and can stay there. The weather here is amenable to that, well, except during the rainy season. I’ve been thinking about applying at the resort for a job because they’ve seen my work now, or at least heard about it. Maybe the fact that I don’t have an actual home won’t prevent them from hiring me this time.”

“This time?” Raffe sipped his beer, the liquid cooling his throat and the tang of hops lingering on his tongue.

“Yeah. I applied for a job here after I was fired from the restaurant. I would have had the job if it wasn’t for the fact I didn’t have a permanent address here on the island. It’s a catch twenty-two. I can’t afford an apartment without a job, and I can’t get a job without an apartment.”

Raffe couldn’t begin to pretend that he knew how Dave felt. The fact that Dave and Kim had so much riding on winning the contest made him feel like a jerk. Whether he won or lost, he’d return to his fancy apartment in New York.

“Now, if we win, that’s a life changer right there.” Dave took another sip. “Kim and I want to open our own restaurant here on the island. Just a small one, nothing big or fancy. We don’t need it to make a ton of money. Just enough for us to pay the bills and get by is fine. We love cooking so much, and love this island so much. It would be a dream come true for the both of us. But enough about me, what about you?”

Raffe told him about his restaurants and his love of the food business. But his usual enthusiasm was dampened by Dave’s circumstances. He wanted to offer him a job on the spot, but he got the impression Dave would see that as charity, and he didn’t think a guy like Dave would accept charity. The least he could do was pay the bar tab, which he did after another beer and forty-five minutes of good conversation.

As Raffe and Dave parted ways, Raffe began to wonder if his priorities weren’t all screwed up.

* * *

Veronica sat in her tiny office at her tiny desk beneath the air conditioning vent. It was freezing, but she wasn’t cold. In fact, she was a bit heated because of the phone conversation with Tanner. She swung around in her chair, tapping her foot on the floor as she listened to Tanner drone.

“Yes, Tanner, I know how important this is,” Veronica said dryly. Did he think she was stupid? I mean, after all, this whole plan had been half her idea. She didn’t like being treated like a child, and she didn’t need Tanner calling and texting her nonstop, asking what was going on.

“Maybe this just isn’t going to happen; the timing is wrong.” Veronica made a face as soon as the words came out of her mouth. Had she said that? What was wrong with her? It was that old bag, Gertie. All her talk about karma and her words about being nice were starting to turn Veronica soft!

The thing was, Veronica didn’t have the same gusto for ruining lives she’d had a few weeks ago. Maybe that was because her efforts kept being thwarted. But something about Gertie’s words rang true, and she really did like the old lady.

She respected Gertie, and Gertie understood where Veronica was coming from. She’d been where Veronica was but had persevered and ended up with a great career. Veronica, on the other hand, didn’t have any idea what she would do after this show. She wasn’t going to be a CEO’s assistant anymore, that was for sure, but what else was she qualified to do?

Maybe she should stop trying to ruin people’s lives and hers would get better. Maybe Gertie had a point about karma.

She rubbed the bandage-covered scratch on her arm absently. It was hot and itchy. She hoped she wasn’t getting an infection, as the dishwasher had said. Maybe the scratch was some sort of bad karma for the things she’d been doing to Sarah and Raffe.

But it wasn’t fair! She had done something good the other day, so why was karma kicking her ass now?

“Nonsense!” Tanner bellowed. “The timing couldn’t be better! We’ve got them right where we want them, in a place to be humiliated. In public! Are you forgetting that thanks to Sarah and her sidekick Marly we both were screwed over? And don’t even think of backing out on me. I have proof it was you who switched the dessert, and you won’t get a referral if you are fired! And I think we both know Jasper Kenney won’t be giving you a good referral from your last job, will he? Do you want to sit in your apartment with no job, gorging on M&Ms again?”

Tanner’s smarmy voice made Veronica cringe, but he did have a point. Marly and Sarah had gotten her fired, and she had loved that job. Word had traveled fast within the fashion industry about the fact she had been fired, and finding a new job had been nearly impossible.

But she didn’t want a job in that industry anymore. Even though she’d only taken the job here so that she could mess up the contest for Sarah, she found herself actually beginning to like it. She enjoyed organizing and keeping things running on time. And she was good at it. The producer had already complimented her several times.

When the contest was done, she hoped to get a similar job. But that wouldn’t happen if Tanner ratted her out.

His remark about her weight stung, but she had gained a ton of weight in between jobs. In fact, she was almost as heavy as she had been growing up. But now that she was busy all day running around, the weight was starting to drop off. Another benefit of an active job like this.

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do,” Veronica said to placate him.

“I know what you can do. Use that secret weapon and be done with it.” Tanner hung up before she could say another word.

Veronica unlocked the top right drawer of her desk. That was where she locked her purse. Not because she had anything of value but because the “secret weapon” was in there.

She reached in and pulled out a small glass vial. Holding it up to the light, she peered through the clear liquid. Who knew such a strange concoction could exist in a tiny vial like that? It looked as harmless as water.

But it wasn’t harmless. It was some kind of mixture that when poured over any type of food would make it taste absolutely rancid.

The problem was getting the chance to pour it over the food without being seen. She should have done it during the favorite meal challenge, but she’d switched the dessert instead, hoping that would be enough to send Raffe and Sarah home and she wouldn’t have to resort to such drastic measures.

Too bad the rest of the challenges didn’t really allow for the food to be placed anywhere that she could access without being seen.

The meals cooked went directly from the teams’ kitchens to the judges table, and all under the eye of multiple cameras. She’d have to use some major sleight of hand to drop the liquid onto the food after Raffe and Sarah had tasted and plated their dishes and before it got to the judges.

If she were caught, she’d be fired and lose any hope of a good reference. She placed the vial back into her purse. That would have to be used as a last resort. There was still another contest to go. She’d just have to figure out a way to ensure they lost without having to resort to the secret weapon.