CHAPTER THREE
I managed to get through my intro without any fumbles, but it wasn’t nearly as professional as Aiden’s. I was still pleased that it was better than some. Better than most, actually, if I was being totally honest.
This was what it was like to be a star, in front of the camera and all eyes focused on you. I liked it. I loved it, if I was still being totally honest.
It was my first taste of stardom, and with that feeling, my new taste for victory followed. It was strong and vivid, and I didn’t care who I had to beat out to get it. Victory would be mine.
Once the production crew finished explaining their process to all the contestants, we were all given instructions for the following day and sent to our rooms, or to roam the streets of Austin if we chose.
It wasn’t late, but I was tired, and I knew as the others all congregated and made plans to have beers, roam the city, and celebrate their arrival to the show, I needed to spend the evening in my room. There I could study recipes and get enough rest to have an advantage over some of the cockier professionals I needed to beat out in order to win the competition or even stay alive past the first cut.
“You’re not going to mingle in this amazing city?” Aiden asked.
I’d been planning my evening in my head as he snuck up behind me. His breath smelled of licorice, and as I turned to respond, I noticed he had a long black piece dangling from his mouth. He worked it slowly, rolling it under his tongue and sucking the flavor from the limp stick. I watched, helpless, useless, and speechless.
“It’s a beautiful night in Austin.” He continued to suck on that candy to the point my legs began to quiver. I never wanted so bad to be a piece of candy in my entire life.
“I think I should get some rest,” I said, looking at his left eyebrow. “Tomorrow will be a long day.”
“Cute and smart. Now, let’s see if she can cook.” I loved how his lips curled up, and his smile was slightly crooked with the licorice stick hanging from his lips.
I wanted to respond, to have some witty comeback to his comment, but before I could think of anything, he turned and walked away.
Why didn’t I ask him to show me around?
I was kicking myself in the ass as I realized Aiden had grown up in Austin. I know I heard that when he appeared on a cooking show I love as a guest. I remember thinking how funny Aiden looked next to the straight-laced chef. Aiden was a bad boy, tattoos everywhere, spiked blond hair and blue eyes you could get lost in. He was the kind of guy that every woman wanted but didn’t need. There was a part of me that wanted him, if my honest streak stayed intact.
The night in the hotel was long and boring. I watched cooking shows until my brain hurt and my stomach growled. After ordering room service and studying recipes from the book I’d organized after being selected, I was out like a light.
***
I didn’t feel nearly as rested as I’d hoped as I took the elevator to the hotel lobby. Breakfast was a long buffet table with a sign that read “Extreme Cuisine Contestants Welcome.”
Several others were already eating, and a few were still in line, looking to be having seconds. The long white clothed table with a ruffled skirt housed a large assortment of danishes, carafes of different juices and small breakfast sandwiches made on what looked to be store-bought biscuits. I wasn’t impressed. This was a cooking competition, after all. Shouldn’t we have something more, well, gourmet?
“Quite the spread, eh?” Aiden’s voice rang in my ear from behind.
“Yeah, it’s underwhelming to say the least.” I flipped a raspberry danish onto my flimsy paper plate. “Even the tableware is cheap.”
Aiden chuckled as he scooped up three danishes and two of the small sandwiches. I skipped the ones that looked to be equivalent to the ones I would find at the gas station by my old apartment and reached for the tomato juice.
“Here, allow me,” Aiden said as he gripped the Styrofoam cup and poured it to the rim. “Always a gentleman, don’t let the tattoos fool ya.”
His fingers touched mine as I took the cup from him. Was it just me, or were those sparks?
I found a seat on the white sofa that was away from the majority of the other contestants, hoping that Aiden would join me for a cozy get-to-know-you-better breakfast.
The cushion pushed down beside me, causing me to tilt towards a large, slightly too warm body that smelled of syrup.
“The hotel restaurant has pancakes, all you can eat,” he spoke as he ate.
I watched the large man scoop pancakes into his mouth that were so coated in syrup they almost fell from his fork. “I’m Kevin,” he introduced himself.
My eyes slid past his to watch Aiden walk towards the production crew with his plate. He didn’t even look over, making me wonder if this man had diverted my plans or simply kept me from sitting alone.
“I’m Claire.” I decided to be polite and extended my hand. Once the sticky flesh of his fingers met my palm, I immediately regretted my decision.
“You’ll never guess who the host is,” he said and then stared at me like I was supposed to start guessing.
“Well, since this is Jamie Brown’s show, I would guess Jamie Brown,” I said, leaving out an eye rolling “duh.”
“Nope.” His eyes moved over my shoulder, and he nodded in the direction behind me. I turned, and my danish slipped off my plate and onto the floor, leaving a raspberry stain on the hotel’s carpet.
Holy shit!
It was Shep Thompson. My idol of all idols. I nearly swooned in my seat.
Shep flashed a brilliant smile as he passed by. He stooped down in front of me and picked up the danish I’d dropped.
“Here you go,” he said, the rumble of his deep voice vibrating through me. His shoulders were broad and his smile intoxicating as he nailed me with his dark eyes.
Our fingers touched as I took the ruined pastry and muttered a breathless, “Thank you.”
Then he was gone. His hand slid through his thick dark hair, and his attention left me as quickly as it had found me. I felt foolish as I scooped up my mess and tried desperately to clean the carpet with the thin paper napkin offered at the buffet table.
“Hello, everyone. In case you don’t know me, I’m Shep Thompson.” His voice was as authoritative as his presence and quickly brought everyone’s attention to him. “If you’re not aware, Jamie was rushed into surgery yesterday and will be recovering for several weeks, and like we say in the business, the show must go on.”
He waited for the good-natured chuckles and concerns about the former host to calm down.
“I’ll be your host as well as one of the judges. Welcome to Extreme Cuisine,” he announced loudly and with an enthusiasm that brought everyone to their feet to cheer.
He was one of my favorite chefs, and now he would be judging my food? I was star struck, dumbfounded, and a little giddy about being so close to a real celebrity.
It didn’t take long once Shep arrived on scene for the large double doors next to the buffet table to open. We were all ushered inside and placed at our own cooking stations. I was disappointed that they’d placed me next to the large man I now knew to be Kevin. I wanted to cook with Aiden, not only to be near him, but I genuinely wanted to learn something from the pro. I feared the only thing I could learn from Kevin was how to oversaturate a pancake and turn it into mush.
“Your first test is a team relay, so look down your row and say hello to your team of five,” Shep announced.
Aiden was in my row at the very end. He winked when he noticed me looking his direction. Yes!
The other members of our team included a thin woman with gorgeous ebony skin and a full fro surrounding her pretty face. I frowned at her long fingernails that were painted like zebra’s skin, wondering how she could cook with those things.
The other was a tall bald man with a long mustache that reminded me of the Monopoly man. Our team, while not very impressive, still had Aiden and gave us a chance. I was ready for this. I was ready to win.
The instructions were fast-paced and following along was harder than I thought.
“That breakfast buffet today was pitiful, don’t you agree?” Shep asked loudly with enthusiasm. “Let’s make it better!”
We listened carefully as we were told to make five items for a fabulous breakfast buffet, each person making their own culinary creation. The items should complement one another, so we were told to organize our thoughts before starting. Also, as a team, if someone needed assistance, it was our job to help them.
“There must be five items on the buffet; all buffets must be complete,” Shep made the final announcement.
Two of the teams, including mine, all quickly huddled up to organize the menu, while the other one raced to the pantry to gather ingredients blindly. I tried to ignore the camera that felt like it was inches from my face or the lights that radiated heat all around us.
“Eggs benedict,” Kevin blurted out.
“Crepes,” the zebra nailed woman chimed in.
“Quiche,” Monopoly man added.
I watched Aiden, waiting to hear his fabulous idea, or at the very least, waiting on him to take charge and knock off some of the ideas given by the other members. “What do you think, darlin’?” he asked, staring at me with those deep baby blues.
“Well, I don’t think we need two egg items, and the benedict is more outdated, so the quiche should stay. The crepes are great as long as we include several fillings. I was considering making a salmon bruschetta and grand mimosas, which means we still need a grain and something salty.” I spoke up, even to my own surprise, with complete confidence and authority.
Aiden smiled. “And there you have it.”
“I can make a breakfast polenta,” Kevin agreed quickly.
“I’ll make something with bacon,” Aiden added.
We all ran into the pantry and began gathering ingredients. I was still unsure how this competition was being judged. I hated to think it was by team, but having Aiden on my side was at least helpful. I worried about Kevin, fearing his cooking skills were no better than his manners, and the woman’s incredibly long nails concerned me. I was afraid she wouldn’t be able to properly hold a knife.
My nails had been trimmed short ever since I started my catering business. There was no way to get anything done quickly in the kitchen with long flashy nails. That seemed to be a quick lesson learned by women in the kitchen, which made me worry she was an amateur cook.
It was chaotic as all three teams ran back and forth to the pantry. The timer was set for thirty minutes, and it felt as though it moved in seconds instead of minutes. I decided to quit looking at it and concentrate on my dish.
It became clear that the woman, who finally introduced herself as Mary, was falling behind. Her nails were a hindrance, something she should have realized before coming to this show. My heart was in my throat as I helped her chop up her strawberries, nuts, and other toppings and fillings for her crepes, then worked quickly to finish the mimosas right as the clock buzzed at zero.
The bald man with a Monopoly mustache was impressive. He helped with decorating the table with cloths, flowers, and fresh fruits while his quiche baked in the oven. It looked professional, and I was proud to stand behind the table as Shep and two other celebrity chef judges walked up to scope it out.
Our menu was selected as the most cohesive and desirable, and we were given kudos for our beautiful presentation. “But, this is a cooking competition, so we need to taste each item,” Shep said with a grin.
He smiled at me as he slipped one of my smoked salmon breakfast bruschettas into his mouth. Shep Thompson smiled at me! “Whose idea was it to add the mimosas?” he asked. “Mine,” I proudly responded. He winked and moved on.
It was torture waiting for the results as each judge tasted our food.
“Five of you won’t be moving on,” Shep announced without any remorse. Brutal! Five people cut the first day. I wasn’t prepared for this at all.
I was relieved to know that an entire team wouldn’t be cut, even though with our fine décor and decent menu I felt we were safe. I wanted to win this on my own, and if I was going down, I wanted that to be alone as well. There was no way I would have someone else blaming me for their loss.
Aiden, myself, and a cutesy blonde were brought up to the front. She looked as though she was a housewife in Beverly Hills. But as the judges announced we had the three best dishes, I realized she was more than met the eye and probably tough competition.
Mary and Kevin were cut from our team. Three others from the third team were included in the cuts, and that was it. I made it to the final ten.
“Congratulations!” Shep yelled, meeting each of our eyes. “Now, things will get tough, and as the weeks go by, even tougher. Are you ready?”
We all agreed, but without the enthusiasm he expected or wanted. “Are you ready?” he asked again, even louder.
We all screamed out, “Yes!” with one, “Hell, yes!” coming from Aiden.
“As you may know, I live in Austin. Was born and raised here. I love this state, and my farm isn’t far from this hotel.” Shep spoke with such grace I could listen to him all day long. “I’m a strong believer in the farm to table movement, so during this competition, you’ll be visiting farms not only here in Austin but from around the country using ingredients that you’ll find onsite.”
This was a twist I hadn’t prepared for, but I was excited to take on the challenge. Shep spearheaded the farm to table movement, and since his show started, I’d been following his lead. I may not have been prepared, but I knew I was ready.
“We’ll start by visiting my family farm right here in Austin where you’ll have access to some of the freshest, most delicious ingredients on the planet,” he bragged. “So get rested up, we leave in a few hours.”