Veronica was giddy with excitement over Raffe and Sarah’s loss. And judging by what she’d seen, they were seriously off their game.

Something was wrong in paradise! Maybe it had been the photo of Raffe hugging Gina that she had shown Sarah. She hoped so. Whatever it was, now was the time to twist the knife in deeper and hope they’d screw up on their own.

If not, then she would have to take drastic action and use the liquid. But there were only two challenges left, and the producers were planning to throw a monkey wrench in the works to keep the chefs off balance. She’d have to plan carefully, because if it looked like they were going to win, she might have to deploy some fancy footwork to sabotage the dishes before tasting. If she was fired for using the secret weapon, so be it.

She scratched at the cut on her arm. Stupid thing, was it getting worse?

Raffe suddenly appeared in the hallway outside of her office, lugging a trash bag toward the compactor room. She scurried out from behind her desk and nonchalantly stepped in his way.

“Oh, hi, Raffe. Sorry about that last loss. It’s too bad, really. I mean, I think you’re the best chef, even if Sarah…” She let her voice trail off dramatically.

Raffe’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Even if Sarah what?”

“Oh, nothing. I mean, face it, she’s right anyway. You’re only here because your daddy has so much money and your name is well known… You don’t really have any cooking capabilities. She’s not even trying anymore because she figures you already paid to have your team win.”

“What!” Raffe exclaimed. “Is that what Sarah said?”

Veronica smirked, knowing that she’d landed on a sore spot. She didn’t even have to answer Raffe’s question, because he’d already turned away. Hurling the trash bag into the compactor, he stormed down the hallway, leaving her standing there smirking and scratching her arm.

Yes! She’d ruined his day! She should feel overjoyed, but for some reason it didn’t feel as satisfying as she’d thought it would.

She turned to see Sarah coming down the hall. Maybe winding Sarah up would give her that euphoric feeling she usually got when she ruined a person’s day.

“Oh, hi, Sarah!” she smiled coyly despite Sarah’s look of suspicion.

“What do you want, Veronica? We aren’t supposed to be talking. You know that. Or do you have more photos to show me?”

“Don’t take your loss out on me. You and Raffe screwed that up yourselves. The two of you bumping into each other out there like idiots. Anyway, I don’t know why you’d bother doing a good job given the circumstances.”

“What do you mean, ‘given the circumstances’?” Sarah asked in an irritated tone, brushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen down from her bun.

“Well, what’s in it for you if you win? A job at one of Raffe’s restaurants if you’re lucky?”

Sarah tried to push past her, but Veronica inched closer, like a predator closing in on prey.

“There’s the grand prize money, that’s what there is,” Sarah said, shoving her way past.

“Not for you,” Veronica replied, laughing.

Sarah turned around sharply. “What? What do you mean by that?”

“In the entry form that you signed, it shows that, if you win any money, it all goes into Raffe’s bank account. I mean, maybe it’s a joint checking account you two lovebirds share. I’m sure you saw that when you read the rules? Couples only, and the prize goes to one bank account. It is strange, though. All the other couples had both names on their bank accounts. I heard Raffe talking to one of the crew members about how his daddy wouldn’t give him any more money to open more restaurants, so he needed this money bad. I’m sure you know all this, though. After all, you’re engaged to the man.”

Sarah’s face turned bright red, and she stormed away, leaving Veronica alone to bask in her triumph. But Veronica didn’t feel very triumphant. She heard a tsk-ing sound behind her and whirled to find Gertie shaking her head, disappointment plastered on her face. She must have heard everything. Gertie wheeled off to her office.

The urge to explain why she’d done what she’d just done overwhelmed her, and she started toward Gertie’s office. Gertie shook her head then grabbed a long stick and used it to slam the door closed.

Veronica stood in the hall staring at the closed door, a lead balloon settling in her stomach and her arm itching and burning as if infested with fire ants.

She turned and slowly walked to her own office. She should have been bubbling with victory but instead felt as though she’d just let down her only friend.