Chapter 30
The show’s third competition—a teaching kitchen in San Juan—feels like a break from all the regular drama. A needed break.
The rumor mill is sawing away online about the show moving to La Vida. Three days after discovering that Haydée and Mateo arranged, behind my back, to move the entire FTW reality show to La Vida Buena, I’m dreading the switch.
I’m already drowning in work. And if I don’t win tonight, I will be officially off the show while simultaneously hosting everyone I’ve lost to for months.
I cannot lose.
Standing behind the cooktop embedded in the stainless-steel counter in my miniature kitchen, I wait as a camera operator circles me, the lighting director makes last-minute adjustments, and the sound specialist checks my mic.
I’m impressed with the stations contestants have to work with here—large stainless-steel fridges filled with food, gleaming ovens, stocked pantries, and all the cooking tools we could ever need.
Almost everyone seems excited about this change in venue. It’s a nice break.
“At least we have snacks,” Fonzie says. He’s at the station closest to me on my right. Kay Lee’s station is closet on my left.
I nod at his comment, then give a thumbs-up because the sound person is adjusting my mic after getting some feedback.
I take note of the setup for my own peace of mind. It seems I’m in the middle of the action. Fonzie and Eli are between me and Sil. On the other side of me is Colette, Kay Lee, and a despondent-looking Cameron.
“You’re wired,” the sound director says.
I thank him and the other crew members as they depart for another contestant’s station.
“Your makeup looks fabulous,” I tell Sil as they arrive from their stint in the makeup chair.
They lean against my workstation. “And yours, too,” they say. They lean over the cooktop. “I heard a rumor.”
“Chisme. Do tell.”
“What’s going on?” Colette asks, sliding over.
“I heard a rumor,” Sil says.
We all lean in, but not before Fonzie, Cameron, and Kay Lee show up.
Eli is stuck in his cooking station while the mic and lighting team gives him the same treatment they’ve just finished doing with me, but I notice his curious gaze glide this way.
“What’s going on?” Cameron asks with his typically loud voice.
“Shh,” Kay Lee says, pulling at the brim of her hat. “Sil is about to tell us a show rumor.”
“I hope it’s that we’re actually going to be asked to do pull-ups on the open beams lining the ceiling instead of cooking.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.” I snort, then, glancing at his huge chest, I add, “That would be patently unfair.”
“And making me cook isn’t?”
“No,” Sil, Fonzie, and Colette say at the same time.
Cameron harrumphs.
“Fifteen minutes,” someone from the crew announces.
We all jump, then lean in closer to Sil.
They lick their lips and announce, “Apparently, The Last Stand for this challenge is being held tonight. Directly after the competition.”
“That sucks for Cameron,” Colette says, and she’s not joking. It’s like all of us have just accepted he’s going to lose. Mostly, because he’s said it over and over. “He doesn’t even get to have a whole Last Stand show dedicated to him, like the one they did for Yolanda.”
There’s an awkward moment where I feel that I’m being judged harshly for something I had no control of. I’m sure Anonymous4Now will have a lot to say about it, as they blamed Doc leaving early on me, too.
I keep my mouth shut.
“Apparently, it was the only way Sherwood could be part of the show,” Sil says. “Her schedule is bonkers.”
“Tonight is my last night,” Cameron groans.
“Are you sure about this, Sil?” Fonzie asks, his hazel eyes curious as he twirls a dread absently with one hand.
“Yes. I heard it from Mae, who overheard Néstor talking to Sherwood Jones. Mae did her makeup right before she did mine.”
“Sherwood is here?” Kay Lee says, looking around for the star of the hit cooking show Food for Thought. “I so want to meet her. She is the funniest thing going.”
“I hear she’s a tool in person,” Colette says, and Kay Lee frowns at the news.
“What’s The Last Stand challenge?” Cameron asks, a pinched line between his eyebrows.
“That, I don’t know,” Sil says.
“I’m doomed,” Cameron says, shoulders slumping. “If it’s happening here…” He shakes his head. “…That means it’s something else to do with cooking, and that means I’m doomed.”
“No one expects you to be a chef,” Kay Lee says helpfully, putting a small, consoling hand on his shoulder. She’s the only contestant shorter than me. “Just throw in everything healthy you can find, keep away from the ovens, and hope for the best.”
“Contestants to their stations,” Néstor announces, walking by us with raised eyebrows.
We break apart like schoolkids caught sharing answers for the upcoming test.
Verdad. It kind of feels like that.
A moment later, the boisterous Sherwood Jones makes her way onto the set. A curvy woman with gloriously overdone makeup, gregarious outfits, gleaming dark skin, and a different wig for every day of the week, the well-known celebrity moves like a queen, graciously nodding here and there, as she makes her way over to Parker.
She huddles with Parker over some last-minute considerations, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she is the center of all of our attention. She is the most famous person I’ve ever seen in person. We’re all a bit starstruck.
I’m so absorbed in watching her that I’m taken aback when I hear the two-minute warning before we go live. My heart starts its belated dance, though not as hard as prior nights. Crew and contestants move into position, and before I know it, the music for the show starts.
Miguel’s voice booms through speakers, announcing the show and its special guest host, Sherwood Jones. Because Sherwood is such a big star, this show is being hosted primarily by her, with Miguel doing some voiceover intros.
When his voiceover ends, the grip points at Sherwood. She lights up with a smile so engaging that I can’t look away.
“Welcome to my world, FTW contestants!” she drawls, spreading arms draped in a shimmery purple gown as wide as her brilliant smile. “I know you’re used to making regular folks like me sweat for a living, but, today, it’s my turn.” She rubs her hands together with enthusiasm, and we all laugh. “Ready to sweat?”
She trills her famous laugh, and I find myself smiling along.
Sherwood continues, “But before we get started, I want to give you all an incentive to cook your little hearts out.”
Everyone quiets down.
“This week’s show will include not only the nutrition challenge, judged by yours truly, but also The Last Stand competition.”
“Can you tell us what The Last Stand is?” Cameron asks, giving Sherwood a leer that is equal parts charm and heat.
Her eyelids rise and her mouth purses into a bow, as if she’s holding back a smile. “In fact, I can. The loser of today’s competition—decided by myself and my two chefs in training—will get to face off against Easton Blake in a food pyramid building contest.”
Our excited chatter is followed by spontaneous clapping as Easton walks in, dressed in gray jeans, a white long-sleeve shirt, and a navy vest. He’s so beautiful I lose my breath.
One of the camera operators walks backward, getting the shot of Easton, with the palm of his handler on his back, making sure he doesn’t trip. He strides to Sherwood with a confidence that commands attention.
“Easton,” Sherwood says, as he draws near. “Do you want to know what you and one of these wonderful competitors will be using to build with?”
“Straw, sticks, or bricks?” he asks, shaking her hand.
She throws her head back and laughs. “Maybe.” She bites her lips. “But you’ll have to wait to find out.” Her gaze dances playfully down to his big hands. “Still, if you’re good with your hands, you shouldn’t have any problems.”
Cameron pumps a fist in celebration. Apparently, he’s as unsure of his cooking skills as he is sure of his building skills.
Still, since I know what Easton’s hands are capable of, my money is on him.