Just act natural, and no one will suspect a thing.

Sarah repeated the mantra in her head as she walked next to Raffe along the solar-light-dotted path that led to the party area.

Her stomach knotted. Not only were she and Raffe not a couple, she knew little about him and his personal life and vice versa. Should they have concocted some kind of story? What if people asked personal questions?

As they approached the courtyard, she heard the murmur of voices, bursts of laughter, and the clinking of glasses and utensils. The aroma of grilled meat spiced the air. The knot in her stomach tightened further.

Tiki torches lighted the courtyard, their bright flames flickering above the colorful party lights strung around the perimeter. An ice sculpture depicting the Chef Masters logo—a giant knife—rose eight feet high in the center of the courtyard. The sharp point at the top had already melted to a dull arc, and the handle was dripping. Sarah wondered how long the rest of it would last in the tropical heat. Cans of Sterno burbled under food stations set up in a long row, and servers dressed in island attire passed trays of hors d’oeuvres. A calypso band played softly off to one side, adding the perfect Caribbean touch.

She followed Raffe to a tiki bar and ordered an “Island Special”—which a drink menu described as spiced rum and punch. The bartender handed them the tall pink drinks, placing a little umbrella next to the pineapple slice at the top. Sarah took a long sip. Fruity, spicy, and loaded with rum.

“Excuse me, but that looks delicious, what is it?” a cheerful voice next to her asked.

Sarah turned slightly to her right to find a short, tanned bald man with a warm smile. He wore a bright red Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. She recognized him from the contest.

“It’s an Island Special. It’s delicious. I’m Sarah, by the way. And this is my, err, Raffe. My fiancé.” She hoped her new friend hadn’t noticed her fumble her words. She was sure Raffe had caught it, though, so she avoided looking at him.

“I’m Rob. So nice to meet you! Honey? Here, this is Sarah and Raffe. This is my partner, Brian.” Rob gestured toward a tall, slender man with a gray goatee.

Sarah and Raffe shook Brian’s hand and exchanged some small talk while picking from the serving trays paraded past them. Brian and Rob were from Florida, had been together for almost ten years, and were very funny. Sarah liked them immediately.

As they talked, they migrated toward the dining tables, Raffe talking to Brian and Rob about some restaurants in the Boca Raton area that they might know.

“I guess we can sit here?” she asked, stopping at a table where several people were already seated.

“Oh, honey, sure. Sit right down,” a woman across from her said. “Make some room, everyone!” she bellowed down toward the end of the table. At the end, a dark-haired woman rolled her eyes and whispered into what Sarah assumed was her husband’s ear.

“I’m Gina, and this is my husband Tony. Nice to meet you.” The first woman extended a long tanned arm. Dozens of gold bracelets clanked on her wrist as they shook hands.

“That’s Kim and her hubby Dave, and down there are Brenda and Dick, and across from them are Tom and Kelly.”

Everyone at the table eyed Sarah and Raffe expectantly, so she made the introductions, careful not to stumble over the word “fiancé” when she introduced Raffe.

“Fiancé? I thought this contest was just for married folks,” Brenda, the eye roller, said. Sarah sensed trouble and avoided answering her, instead sitting in the chair Raffe had pulled out for her next to Kim. Brian and Rob had already taken seats at the other end of the table.

“How long have you been engaged? Your ring is so pretty!” Kim asked Sarah, eyeing her diamond.

Sarah twisted the ring, stopping immediately upon catching a glare from Raffe, who sat across the table from her.

“Oh, thank you. We’ve been engaged for, umm, almost two years now. So many things to do, planning a wedding. You know how it is, I’m sure!” Sarah took another sip of her drink to stop herself from babbling.

Kim laughed. She had a soft, gentle way about her and was very dainty. Her straight, waist-length dirty-blond hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she wore a simple lavender ankle-length tank-style dress.

“She’s laughing because we eloped,” Dave explained, reaching for the bread basket. “Actually, we got married on this same beach, down more toward the town, though.”

“Really? How exciting!” Sarah said, perking up. She’d always thought she wanted a destination wedding. When the time came, of course. Okay, if it came. But hey, she was fake engaged, so why not think about fake wedding plans?

“Well, not exactly exciting. It’s kind of a long story. We eloped. We had lived in the community for more than a year and loved it here. We knew we wanted to be together, so we just grabbed a JP and got married on the beach.”

“What community? You mean you have a house here, on the island?” Raffe asked, grabbing the butter and slathering it on a roll.

“We’ve lived here for a while, yes.” Dave looked down at his plate. “Not in a house, though. Not anymore. Long story, but we’re kind of between homes right now.”

Kim put her hand on Dave’s arm. “What Dave means is we’re homeless. It wasn’t always that way, but we’ve had a run of bad luck.”

Homeless? Sarah’s ears perked up at the word. Suddenly she was very interested in what Kim and Dave had to say. Apparently so was everyone else, because the table fell silent as everyone looked at Dave.

“Well, it’s such a beautiful island,” Sarah said, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence without making Dave and Kim feel bad but having no idea what to say. How did a homeless couple even get on the show?

“I feel I should explain.” Dave squeezed Kim’s hand. Homeless or not, they seemed extremely happy.

“Kim and I met in Boston five years ago. We’ve been inseparable ever since. About three years ago I had a great job offer as head chef at L’Ellsipa here on the island. So of course I said yes and insisted Kim quit her job and come with me. Long story short, things didn’t work out at L’Ellsipa. It all happened very fast, and before we knew it, we were homeless. We had a small amount of money to get by, and we assumed that finding jobs here would be easier than it was. At first we rented a one-room unit. We eventually ended up living on the beach by the bridge.”

Sarah knew exactly where he was talking about. On the cab ride from the airport, the driver had pointed out different points of interest, and she distinctly remembered him saying to avoid the beach area around the bridge as it was known as “Tent City,” where the homeless lived.

“I hope this doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable.” Kim glanced around the table.

“How does a homeless couple even get on the show?” Brenda chimed in, asking the question that Sarah—and probably everyone else—was too polite to ask but wanted to know.

“We heard about it from friends. Word still travels, even in the homeless world. I still know people from when I ran the kitchen at L’Ellsipa,” Dave explained. “Anyway, we applied and got accepted. They don’t really care where you live.”

“He is an amazing chef,” Kim added, grinning at her husband.

The servers interrupted the conversation, placing white oval platters of food in the middle of the table. Kalua pork, grilled lamb, steak kabobs, grilled pineapple, spiced rice, chicken, and in the middle, a tropical green salad with fruit and nuts.

“So, are there a lot of homeless people on the island?” Sarah tried to sound casual as she reached for the grilled lamb.

“Why would you ask that?” Brenda snapped at her.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend anyone,” Sarah stuttered. “It’s just that… umm… there’s just so much extra food that gets tossed in the contest. I would love to see it go to people who can use it instead of it being thrown away.” It was true, except that wasn’t exactly the reason she’d asked.

Dave smiled. “No worries. There are a lot of homeless. And it’s nice of you to think about feeding them. Most of the homeless are just regular folks who had some bad luck like us. But if you have to be homeless, this isn’t such a bad place.”

“I guess not.” Sarah focused on loading up her dish from the platters.

“Raffe, your name is so unique. Is it a family name?” Gina, who sat next to Raffe, leaned in closer to him.

“Thank you. No, not a family name. My parents just liked to be different I guess,” Raffe replied, looking almost embarrassed.

Was Gina flirting with him?

Sarah shot a look across the table at Gina, who was staring up at Raffe. She darted her eyes to Raffe. Was he blushing?

She looked back at Gina. She had an unnatural-looking tan, most likely from a tanning bed. Her face was pretty, but too made up. She wore pink lipstick that made her face look almost orange. Sort of like an Oompa Loompa.

“Well, it suits you. It’s such a strong name,” Gina’s eyes lingered on Raffe for a few seconds before returning to her plate.

Well, this was awkward. How was Sarah supposed to feel about someone flirting with her fake fiancé? Should she have fake jealousy? What did Gina’s husband, Tony, think of it? He seemed oblivious, focusing on a conversation about sports at the other end of the table.

Sarah concentrated on her meal. She didn’t want to get involved with any of these people. If Raffe wanted to do some extra-credit cooking with Gina, then he was more than welcome. As long as it didn’t jeopardize their chances of winning, she didn’t care what he did.

Sarah focused on making small talk, and before she knew it, they were digging into the crème brûlée. The party was almost over. It hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought. No one had asked much about their relationship, and Sarah had been surprised at how easily she could fake the answers to the questions they did ask.

“So what do you guys say? One last drink?” Raffe looked at the others expectantly as he pushed up from the table.

“Sure!” Tony got up too. “I’ll get them with you.”

The two men went to the bar and came back with tall, umbrella-laced drinks for everyone.

“A toast to good cooking!” Dave held his glass up, and they all reached over the table to clink.

Landon Barkley appeared at the head of the table, beaming smiles at them. “Wonderful! I see you are all getting along nicely. Maybe even making friends, right?” He raised his brows and looked at everyone.

“Yeah!”

“Sure!”

Landon’s eyes narrowed like a hawk looking at a baby rabbit. “Great, but I must warn you all not to get too attached. This is a contest, after all. And tomorrow one couple will be going home.”