His words give me pause. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I’m lost in his brown gaze. But then, I realize that he’s right; Logan just wants to throw me off my game. This isn’t the cook-off. There are no fellow contestants switching my spices, no real reason to let one judge’s comments make me doubt
Abby A warmth rushes over me as I carry the extra plates to the table where the judges are sitting. Karl follows close behind with a jug of water and two extra glasses. The scent of rosemary and thyme hangs in the air as I slide the plates down and pull up a chair. My heart’s doing somersaults,
Abby Six years ago. The stainless steel countertops gleamed under the harsh lighting of the culinary school kitchen as I plated my dish with trembling hands. The scent of my creation, a painstaking fusion of herbs and spices, wafted tantalizingly through the air—but I had no appetite. My gaze
When it was time to present, I stood by my dish, my heart hammering against my ribcage, as Professor Hawthorne approached. The silence stretched on for what felt like forever. I watched him closely, searching for any sign of approval. Then he spoke, so quietly I almost didn’t catch it. “A+.”
Abby The silence in the room is thick with tension as we wait for Logan’s verdict. Vanessa’s and Xavier’s praises still echo in the back of my mind, but it’s Logan’s opinion that really seems to hold the weight of the world. I can’t explain why, but it somehow feels as though Logan’s opinion hol
Abby Logan’s smirk unsettles me. It feels as though he somehow has the upper hand in a game I didn’t even know we were playing. “I don’t understand, Logan. What are you talking about?” My voice is steady, but inside, I feel anything but. Logan leans against the door frame, casual as ever. “Ken
My smile wavers as I turn away, my mind still on Logan’s words. Hasn’t your sous chef told you? The question echoes in my mind, over and over, like a broken record on repeat. As I busy myself with doling out the coffee, my eyes keep flicking to Karl. He’s listening to a story of Vanessa’s, laughin
Abby “Abby, I…” Karl’s voice wavers ever so slightly, his words trailing off. There are a few moments that feel like an eternity as his eyes dart around the room, and I feel like I can’t take it anymore. “Karl, just say it!” His eyes widen slightly as my voice raises an octave, but I’m not b