Abby My cheeks flush a deep shade of scarlet as Karl’s question hangs in the air, an unspoken tension filling the room. I suddenly feel very aware of every minute detail: the way the soft glow from the desk lamp casts a shadow on his face, the almost-empty wine glasses on the edge of my clut
Karl I was sitting in my apartment one night after work, flipping through N*****x with a glass of whiskey in my hand, when my phone buzzed on the coffee table. Picking it up, I let out a soft sigh. It was Marcus, and it was late. It wasn’t like him to call this late at night. We had only just spok
Abby It’s been raining cats and dogs all morning, but I’m too excited to care. All I can think about is the anticipation buzzing in my chest as I make my way up the walkway to the upscale studio where the interviews for the cook-off are being held. “Hello,” I say from under my umbrella to a
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Frederick. Pleasure.” “Same to you,” I respond with a smile. Frederick pauses, then licks his lips and speaks. “It’s making some waves, you know. Your reputation about your staff. You should consider yourself fortunate if it doesn’t affect you
Abby My heart feels like it's doing somersaults in my chest as I stammer out my words. “You’re—you’re Vanessa Greene. The Vanessa Greene.” “The one and only,” Vanessa says, her voice as soft as a gentle breeze. She offers her hand, and I feel the warmth of her skin as our palms meet. My hand
The audience murmurs. A smattering of applause ripples across the small crowd. Sarah flips her cue cards. “And when did you start cooking, Abby?” “I was eight. My mom loved to cook, and I was her little sous-chef. Cutting, stirring, making a mess mostly,” I chuckle. “But the love for cooking
Abby Applause begins to ripple across the studio audience, but all I see is Karl, sitting in the back, staring down at me. He’s wearing a blue surgical mask, but I know it’s him. I can tell by his eyes, by the way that my wolf stirs ever so slightly just from looking at him. “Wow, Abby,” Sarah s
Abby The knock on the door interrupts my pity party, and for a split second, I debate whether or not to even answer it. But before I can make up my mind, the door creaks open and I catch the sight in the vanity mirror—Karl, his blue surgical mask lowered, his brown eyes shining and a bouquet