Fire In the Kitchen (22 page)

“Oh no.” Cassidy felt a rush of emotion she struggled to define. When she guessed what it was, it hit her like an anchor, thrown from the sky.

She loved him.

She loved this gorgeous, highly strung man who was willing to give away a prime-time opportunity to share his cause so she could have her time in the spotlight. A massive sacrifice. She knew Dante could have found a way around the promoters if he’d really wanted to.

“He did it for me,” she said to Valerie. “He knows I have nothing left but the show. But I can’t let him do that. I refuse to be a token finalist.”

Valerie’s laugh tinkled like a piano incorrectly tuned.

“Your naivety is refreshing,” she said. “He did it for himself. He’s always been about number one.”

“You’re free to think whatever you like. I have to go to bed now,” Cassidy said as she tried to maneuver herself around the other woman without making physical contact. “I know Dante had to fight for them to allow me back, and I’m grateful to him.”

Valerie patted Cassidy on the back.

“He didn’t decide to lose the competition for you,
sweetie
. We’ve been given our own show if he bows out of this one gracefully.”

“I don’t believe you.” Cassidy stepped away from her. “He would never do that to me. I trust him.”

“Trust is overrated. You didn’t
really
think you were that good a cook, did you? How naïve. You will be what the producers say you will be—no more, no less.”

Valerie turned her back on Cassidy and continued to walk the hallway in the other direction.

“Why don’t you ask the love of your life if what I’ve said to you is true?” she said over her shoulder as she went. “I’d never lie to you. We sisters, as the minority, need to stick together.”

Bitch
.
How on earth am I going to get a good night’s sleep now?

As expected, sleep didn’t come. For a couple of hours, it fought Cassidy every step of the way to nowhere. She tried reading recipe books as they usually relaxed her, but after her clock hit two o’clock in the morning, her rational mind went into crisis talks with its new friend,
Miss Stressed Out.
The contents of her suitcase were splayed everywhere and she considered having a clean-up. Then she decided against it. She’d be throwing it all into her suitcase as soon as the grand finale was over tomorrow, or should she say later today? What on earth had made her think she was really a good cook?

After everything they’d been through, she couldn’t believe Dante was going to throw the competition in her favor for a less-than-honorable reason.

“That’s it,” Cassidy said to herself as she swung out of bed. She threw on an oversized T-shirt and flip-flops. She thought about putting on track pants, but reasoned there would be no one around at this unsociable hour, and she was too tired and too upset with Dante to want to stay in her tiny room for a minute longer than was necessary. It was tempting to go and confront him, but she knew her body would forgive him before her mind was ready to. As angry as she was, the sight of him answering his door with his shirt off would just make her want to devour him. Exhaling heavily, she went down the stairs instead of across the long hallway.

She snapped on the light in the industrial kitchen. Looking at the spot where she believed a hidden camera would be, she waved at it, deciding her top was long enough to keep her modest. Her footsteps echoed on the tiled floor as she walked to an oven and set it to preheat. It was an odd sensation to be the only person in there, when it had been the hub of activity for the past few weeks.

It was now down to the two of them, and Dante had decided to let her win. Not because he believed in her cooking talents, but because he had another show he would be prouder to present with
Valerie.
After all she’d been through with Dante…they’d helped each other through the tough times…they’d made love…now he was betraying her in the eleventh hour? It was hard to comprehend, and a large part of her wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

There were a lot of things she could be doing to prepare herself for the grand finale, but her gritty eyes and scrambled brain weren’t going to help her prepare anything gastronomic.

Suddenly, it was almost as if she could hear her father whispering in her ear.

Bake some bread, Cassidy. It represents something simple, basic, and good you can make with love. It’s just a few ingredients, but if made right, it will bring you—and those you make it for—great joy.

As she kneaded the dough and put it into a bowl to proof by the warm oven, Cassidy felt all of her troubles being released. She felt her eyelids starting to close as she waited for the dough to be ready for the next stage and decided fifteen minutes for it to rise would have to be long enough. She expertly formed it into a free-form loaf and tossed it into the oven. Now all she had to do was wait, she thought, as she closed the oven door. It was going to be so delicious with real butter and a good cup of coffee.

She crouched against a wall and allowed herself to sink down to the floor into a firm ball.

Just like my bread.

Her eyes closed of their own accord. She felt as if she’d already climbed the three flights of stairs and crawled into her bed for some serious shut-eye.

She heard an insistent beeping and reached out to turn off her alarm clock. But it wasn’t there. Confused, she heard Dante’s voice in the background, cursing. A loud bang of the oven door followed and her nostrils filled with the smell of smoke.

“Who left the burnt offering in the oven?” he growled, throwing it in the sink with a clunk.

“Go back to bed, Dante,” Cassidy moaned as she rubbed her eyes. “Save your Superman Chef comments for the battle tomorrow. Of course, you never would have let anything burn in your kitchen, would you?”

“Cassidy? Where are you?”

She heard his footsteps as he made his way toward her and found her crouched in a corner hidden by the bench tops.

“What are you doing? I came to see you in your room earlier so we could spend our last night in this place together, but you weren’t there. I meant to find you again later, but I fell asleep. Now I find you here?”

“Maybe I just didn’t want to answer the door for you.” Cassidy felt the sarcasm coming out of her mouth as if there was a freight train pushing it out. She hated speaking like that to anyone, but couldn’t stop it. He’d hurt her so much and she wasn’t going to leave things unsaid before the big finale. “What makes you think I would have let you in?”

“Er…I’m not sure where this conversation’s heading. Are you okay?” He sounded concerned as he reached for a tray and flapped it in the air to blow away the smoke and stop the annoying warning sound of the smoke detectors. “You’d have thought with the show’s huge budget they’d have connected these darned things to the fire department. What if I hadn’t come down to find you when I did?”

“Fire in kitchen number three I suppose, if you count my first day here and the one that burned the café down. Makes for better ratings—isn’t that the normal catch cry?” Cassidy replied through clenched teeth. She stumbled to stand as Dante put out his hand to help her up. She tried to push him away. “I don’t need your help and I don’t want it.”

He pulled her up anyway. “I don’t understand. Why are you being like this?”

Ignoring him, she took a few steps to the sink and moaned as she saw what had happened to her item made
with love.
She grabbed a tea towel, picked up the hot loaf, and threw it into the bin. Charred bits flaked onto the floor, but she left them there.

“I’m out of here. We may as well say our goodbyes now. I don’t want to see you after the cook-off.”

“You’re not going until you tell me what your sudden change of heart is all about.” He put his hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off.

“Why don’t you ask your precious
Valerie
?” Cassidy was not prone to jealousy, and she didn’t like the words that had just come out of her mouth.

“Valerie? What’s she got to do with us?” Dante scratched his head. “You’re not making any sense. You’re tired. We both are.”

Cassidy clenched her teeth and the words snarled out.

“She filled me in. You made a heavy-duty decision about losing tomorrow without considering how it would make me feel. I wouldn’t have thought it a good idea even for a second.”

“But, Cassidy, I did it for you. Can you imagine how incredible your life will be if you win? You’d get your own cookbook and lots of celebrity cooking engagements.”

“Coming first doesn’t mean I win.” Anger made Cassidy wide awake. “It means I’ve been manipulated. Besides, you don’t think I know about your own show if you throw the match?”

“Cassidy.” He reached for her hands and squeezed them. She extricated herself from them and ignored the wounded look in his eyes. “I entered this competition to get back the social reputation Carlos branded me with. I needed a large audience to help me and I have achieved my goal. They never would have let me win because of my food sources, so better you than someone else who doesn’t deserve it.”

“So I win at what cost?” she responded drily. “So I can lose you to that female dragon? So you can have that stupid show together?”

“There’s no way I would have ever considered another show with the
dragon
for more than five seconds. I’ve got to admit, the show’s premise was enticing.” His lips twitched into a hint of a smile. “But I said no.”

Cassidy put her hands on her hips. “Promise?”

“Promise. The decision I made to let you win was to secure your future, and I made it before she dangled that carrot. Let me help you get ahead. I want to.”

“
Help me?
It might work in your world to decide what you think is best for others, but not in mine. You’re a control freak, and after tomorrow, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“It was never my intention to cause you distress.” Dante’s voice was low and deep. “It didn’t occur to me that my decision would hurt you in any way. I thought winning the competition would give you everything you ever wanted.”

“You really don’t know me at all, do you?”

Dante moved closer and squeezed her shoulder. She wanted to believe him that Valerie had lied. She wanted to move closer to him, have him hold out his arms so she could bury herself into his chest. But right now, she needed to get away from the smoke. It made the air around her feel stale, suffocating.

“I know you,” Dante said, his hand moving down her shoulder and stroking her arm. “I know your kooky laugh. I know you can’t keep your feet still when you are waiting for a lucky guinea pig to try one of your foodie experiments. I know you take forever to brush your teeth but don’t floss. I know…”

Cassidy shook her head. “You know everything about nothing. Do you know what I’m trying to achieve in this competition?”

She watched his dark eyes searching hers with an intensity that burned. “You want to win.”

“Yes, but the reasons behind why I want to win are more important than a trophy or a radiant smile I can give to the camera every week aimed at viewers I’ve never met.”

“You’re being cryptic.” Dante smiled. “Let’s get through tomorrow and then we can talk about us. I need you, Cassidy. I’m crazy about you.”

“But you don’t think I have a chance cooking against you without rigging the results. I need a man who believes in me.” Cassidy shook her head as she left the kitchen. “There is no us. Perhaps there never was.”

* * * *

Cassidy changed into the chef’s outfit that had been delivered to her door from the producers. Black pants, black jacket, black apron.

They’ve got to be kidding.

She’d told them she never wore all black, not when there were so many colors to choose from to lift her spirits. She stripped down to her bra and knickers and reached for the outfit Dante had given her that she’d worn in the past with so much joy.

No.

She threw it onto the floor of her small wardrobe and pulled on a white T-shirt with a peace symbol and the words “Make Coffee, Not War.” She slipped on a pair of faded jeans. They weren’t going to get her to wear funeral black without a fight. She did, however, put on sensible shoes. Grabbing the knives she’d recently finished sharpening, she was as ready as she was ever going to be.

Things were very quiet now that the other competitors had gone home to their loved ones. She knew they’d been invited to be in the audience, along with many industry professionals, and it was a no-brainer they would be barracking for Dante.

Dante was already setting up, and he indicated for her to come and join him. He tried to kiss her on the cheek, but she pulled away.

Dante pulled her back. “Please tell me what the real problem is.”

She wanted to close the distance between them, but she couldn’t. Otherwise, he’d never understand, and she’d always be on the periphery of his life.

“Dante, all I ever had in my life was Dad’s café. When he died, I tried to keep him alive by making it the best café in Fremantle. I was always looking for ways to make it better, which is why I entered this darned competition. I needed the prize money.”

“I know that.” Dante nodded, encouraging her to go on.

“I know there was the fire, but it stopped being about that. It started to be about me. I felt special and believed I had some cooking talent. I made it to the finals on my own merits. You took that away from me in a heartbeat and made me feel worthless.”

Dante inhaled and held his breath a moment, as if he were measuring his words to come. “That wasn’t my intention. You have a unique gift and the audiences are going to love you.”

“Would you say this is a fair competition, Dante?”

“Yes…no…maybe. Depends how you want to look at it, I suppose.”

“Okay, I’ll rephrase it.” Cassidy’s voice wavered slightly. “Are you planning on cooking your best today, or are you going to cook to less than your usual standard to make sure I win?”

“Yes, but…no. But it’s all for you.”

“Dante, no! I can’t believe you’ve done this to me.”