Chapter 6
Chapter Six
SHE WON AGAIN AND AS SHE sat in the Escalade for the return trip to the Malibu house she was in a sort of stunned shock.
While Staci knew she was capable of cooking, the win was confirmation that she had a real talent like her grandmother used to say.
It was bittersweet though because she realized what she’d thrown away for “love”.
“Congrats,” Vivian offered. “I thought I had you at the last minute there when that pork you took off the grill was a little pink.”
“Same here. I mean Austin barbecue is hard to beat. Everything was just flowing for me today,” she said.
“I could tell. I tasted your dish and as much as it pains me to admit this, it was delicious.”
“Thanks, Viv. Yours was good too,” Staci said.
“I’m surprised Dave was in the top three,” Vivian said. “Someone sure helped him with his butchering skills or he was sand-bagging last night...do you think he’s clever enough to do that?”
Staci didn’t know. She shrugged and pulled out her food journal to make a few notes about the dish she’d prepared.
Because of the nature of the show she hadn’t had time to make notes as she was cooking.
With only an hour to cook there just wasn’t time to analyze as she went along.
One thing she had observed was that Remy had fallen back on another New Orleans taste that had cost him points in the final round according to the judges.
She’d made an Italian flavored dish, which was very different from the food she’d been putting up before.
Beating Remy felt good of course because he challenged her and she wanted him to notice her and see her as the one to beat. But he’d looked angry and upset with himself after they’d announced she was the winner. That was something she didn’t want for him.
Losing was hard. She’d certainly done it enough times when she and Alysse had been competing against each other in bake-offs. Staci would never have thought so at the time but that rivalry with Alysse had helped prepare her for this moment.
“I can’t believe Quinn is in the bottom three. That was a shock,” Vivian said. “Last night he put up a great dish.”
“It’s different cooking against the clock,” Staci said still making notes in her journal. She didn’t want to talk about the other chefs. Really the only one she was interested in had a slow southern drawl. She felt like maybe he hadn’t been at his best today.
Had last night thrown him more than he wanted to admit?
She hoped so. She didn’t want to think she was the only one who was making bad decisions and suffering for them.
Yet at the same time she really hoped he wasn’t affected by her.
She wanted—no needed Remy to be a carefree kind of relationship.
That would make it easier when they went their separate ways.
To write off their encounter as just lust.
She turned to stare out the window and focused on the fact that all that training in Paris had been worth it.
She’d have never guessed she could win a Mercedes by cooking, granted she’d achieved a lot in baking and even started her own business, but these were skills she’d avoided using since she’d left Chef Renard’s kitchen all those years ago.
Skills she’d associated with her poor decisions and resulting heartache.
It was gratifying to know that sex with Remy didn’t really feel like a mistake.
Even though she had absolutely no plans to do it again, she didn’t regret it. Hell, she thought, glancing back down at her food journal, if sleeping with Remy raised her cooking to this level she might have to figure out how to sleep with him and not let her emotions get involved.
They got back to the house and all piled out of the Escalades.
Staci tried not to watch for Remy but she couldn’t help it.
A part of her wondered if he still wanted to meet up with her this afternoon.
But she knew he would. If she’d learned one thing about Remy in the short time since she’d met him it was that he never said anything he didn’t mean.
“I guess you’ve got the judges where you want them,” Quinn said. “Hard to believe a little cupcake baker is beating all of us.”
“I’m—
“She’s a skilled chef, Quinn. You can talk trash all you want but it’s the dishes that we are all being judged on,” Remy said in that quiet southern way of his. “She wouldn’t have won if she hadn’t deserved it.”
“Whatever,” he said, storming away from them.
Vivian lifted both eyebrows at her as if to ask why’s he defending you? Staci just shrugged. She really didn’t have a clue why he had, but there was a part of her that really liked what he’d done.
“Thanks,” she said, as they climbed the steps into the house.
“Remy’s right,” Dave said.
“You did well today,” Staci remarked to the other man.
“I just relaxed like Remy suggested. Stopped hearing the ticking of the clock in my head and I could think about the food,” Dave said.
“Look at you, Remy, giving advice and defending chefs....”
Remy didn’t say anything but entered the house and walked to the open-concept living room and specifically the bar. “I don’t see the point in winning something if everyone’s not playing up to par.”
“I agree,” Vivian said as she joined Remy pouring herself a gin and tonic. “What about you, Stac? What does our winner want to drink?”
“Diet Coke,” she answered.
“And rum?” Vivian asked with a grin.
“No,” she said. She still had to face a talk with Remy about last night and she would need all her wits about her. Everyone broke into groups as they discussed what they would make for dinner. It had a bit of a summer camp feel to it.
Because of her win everyone wanted to be around her and the afternoon passed in a blur as she chatted with all the chefs.
Finally, most of the contestants went off to their own space while a few others left to walk on the beach or go surfing.
Remy came over to her where she was sitting on a deck chair.
“Ready for that talk?” he asked.
No, she thought. At this moment she was at peace. The chaos in her mind was calm and she was enjoying the fact that she’d done the kind of cooking her grandmother would have been proud of her for doing. But she knew she had to deal with Remy and last night.
“I guess so.”
“I’m not planning on torturing you,” he said with a wry grin.
“I know. It’s just at this moment...never mind. I’ll sound silly if I say it.” She got to her feet and started to lead the way down to the shoreline.
“There’s nothing silly about you, Staci. I underestimated you, that’s probably due to your size.”
“Everyone always does. But as Shakespeare once said... Though she be but little she is fierce.”
“He had it right. It’s always funny to me how much of 17th century wisdom applies to life today.”
“Do you know much Shakespeare?” she asked.
“I do. My mother is a high school English teacher and my father said that women like to hear a man read sonnets to them.”
“And you believed him?” she asked.
“Well, he had at this point proven himself right about a few other things. I have never let him know that fact though. He has a big ego.”
She laughed at the way he said it. She could tell from his words that he and his parents had a close relationship. She shouldn’t be surprised, he had the persona of someone who had it all. A man who was very used to getting what he wanted. So what exactly did he want from her.
“Do you remember any sonnets?” she asked him as they reached the beach and started walking along the water’s edge.
“Not any more,” he said. “But I didn’t want to quote Shakespeare for you. I wanted to discuss last night.”
Of course he did. “What about it?”
“DO YOU WANT IT TO HAPPEN again?” he asked.
She stopped abruptly and turned to look up at him. “We aren’t here for sex.”
“No we’re not, but there is something between us,” he said.
She nodded. “I know you said that kissing me made you cook better in Chef Ramone’s kitchen...”
“What are you trying to ask me? If I want to sleep with you again to cook better?” he asked, insulted that she’d think so little of him as a man. But then he realized that she didn’t know the real him.
She bit her lower lip and then took an aggressive step toward him. “That’s exactly what I want to know.”
Remy saw bravado in her expression and knew despite the way she was playing it nonchalant that last night had meant more to her than a casual hook-up.
The last thing he’d intended was to get involved with any woman during this competition.
He was making a life-changing decision during his time in California and he needed to stay focused on that.
But he also knew that life had a way of nudging him in the direction he needed to go in and he wasn’t sure exactly why he was so turned on by Staci Rowland, he only knew there was no denying it.
“I don’t need sex to cook well,” he said to her. “I’ve been cooking my entire life, but I’ve yet to find a woman who knocks me out of my comfort zone in the kitchen the way you did today.”
“Really?” she asked, taking a step back and seeming to not notice the surf, which curled around her ankles and soaked the bottoms of her jeans. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, reaching for her hand and taking it in his, he started walking again afraid to say too much more.
But he’d already revealed more than he should have given they were competitors.
Yet lying about the attraction he felt for her wouldn’t have sat well with him.
“I just wanted you to know I’m not toying with you. ”
She took a deep breath. “I’m glad. I have to admit I was a little afraid that might be part of your strategy. Though to be honest it seemed to backfire on you today. What happened when you were cooking?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just fell back on my familiar tastes and dishes.”
“And the judges didn’t want that. I think they want us to grow...you know you owe me a dish. You have to cook for me.”
“I know. What do you want me to make for you?” he asked.