Soufflés at Sunrise (8 page)

“Hey,” Chase said with a smile. “This doesn’t look like dressed to me. No eggs for you.”

Kai turned. He still had his hair down, loose and silky against his shoulders. It was mostly straight, but there was the tiniest bit of a wave. Chase could easily picture him with a pair of board shorts in the ocean. That seemed more like the Kai Chase was getting to know than Mr. Intensity in the kitchen.

“I’m hungry, though.” He smiled at Chase, and Chase felt his insides wobble. “Can I have another kiss?”

It took three steps to cross the room, three steps to be in Kai’s arms, golden and warm and strong. Kai threaded his fingers into Chase’s hair and kissed him. He was still all soft and sleepy, and he smelled good.

“I think we should skip filming today,” Kai said. “Just hang here and make out.”

Chase knew he was joking, so he laughed and punched him lightly in the stomach.

“Sure. I’ll just give the producers a call and let them know we’re not going to make it. I’m sure they’ll understand.” He pulled away from Kai and tossed him a shirt. “Get dressed. I’ll eat your eggs if you’re not out in time.”

I
T
WAS
intimidating to walk into the studio. Always. Even if it wasn’t
the
day, it was still a lot. It wasn’t the day of the main challenge of the week—they had nearly the whole week to wait for that—but still. Every week there had been little challenges throughout that bought them more time or the first pick at ingredients come Friday. Chase hadn’t gotten any of those the week before. He’d luckily managed to make something the judges liked anyway. Or liked-ish. He was determined to win at least one of the mini challenges this week. Chase figured he could use all the help he could get.

The cameras weren’t on yet, so everyone was relaxed in the lounge area where they typically waited for the judges to debate. Mostly everyone was relaxed, at least. Clarissa Darling, self-anointed Cupcake Diva, looked about as tightly wound as she ever did. As soon as the cameras were rolling, she’d be all sweetness and light, but Chase had figured out really quickly that was an act. He’d also figured out he needed to stay the hell away from her. Clarissa looked like she could take someone out with one of her pseudo-sweet stares. Dreya had shown up in her typical weird outfit and frayed head wrap. She was over in the corner doing some sort of meditation. Chase thought it was better if he didn’t ask questions. So far that seemed to be the best method with Dreya. He’d asked her once what she was doing. When she’d said something about her chi, he’d just backed away slowly.

Kai was on the other side of the room with big teddy bear Al and Breon, who Chase was more than a little intimidated by. If he hadn’t spent the night before kissing Kai, he’d probably be pretty damn intimidated by him too. They both had their signature brand of passion around food. Chase didn’t know what to do with that. He couldn’t really hear what they were talking about, but from the various phrases he caught, he assumed they were trying to predict what the main challenge for the week was going to be.

He decided on a more “one day at a time” sort of approach. He’d get to the main challenge when he got there. “Hey, how are you this morning, sweetheart?” It was Sylvia. Chase had loved her from the start. Most of the contestants had. She reminded Chase a little of his grandmother at home. Sylvia was tiny and birdlike, with a huge bun of silver hair perched on her head. She made food that smelled like home too. Sylvia said she’d been baking for her family for years before she started a mail-order business in her town that had just blown up. Chase wondered if someone as down-to-earth as her could compete against the likes of Kai, Breon, and Carson. Sometimes he wondered if he could.

“I’m doing well. How are you?”

Sylvia smiled. “A little worried about this week’s competition just like everyone else, I’d assume.” She lowered her voice. “My station is right next to Clarissa’s. I teased her
one time
about being Clarissa from that television show my kids watched when they were young, and she won’t talk to me anymore. I’m waiting for her to spike one of my desserts with something horrible that will get me sent home.”

“She’s a little excitable, isn’t she?” Chase asked.

Sylvia only nodded. He sensed a hidden eye roll in there. Clarissa deserved it. She wasn’t very pleasant to anyone.

They went through hair and makeup and were shuffled into the main kitchens where they completed their challenges. Chase got the shivers. There was something about that room; maybe it was how whenever they were in there, they were scrutinized, judged, and rushed. Whatever it was, it made the whole place feel significant. Everyone eyed Diego Monter, the host. Monter stood in the corner like some high fashion bearer of doom. He was, after all, the one who’d bring them whatever news, good or bad, they were about to get.

The cameras were already rolling. It was obvious the way Diego preened in their direction. He then turned to the milling crowd of chefs.

“This mini-challenge is both easy and difficult. You’re making….” There was a dramatic pause, just like there always was. Chase almost wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew the stakes were high and he also wanted to be successful. “Fruit salad.”

Fruit salad?
Seriously. How was that even a challenge? Or perhaps it was a huge challenge since it should be the easiest thing in the world to chop up some fruit, but it would be the hardest thing to come up with a unique way to do it.

“There’s more.” Chase could’ve sworn Diego smirked. Of course he did. Bastard.

There was a rolling grumble among the contestants. Of course there was more. When was there ever not? They’d taken it easy on them for the challenges the first week. It would probably only get harder from there.

“First, you’ll have a partner. Sink or swim together. And you’ll be competing for extra time on the clock at the end of the week for our main challenge.” He smiled. “Here’s the rest of it. Your fruit salad can have five fruits, and those five fruits will somehow have to represent the great city of New York.”

There was another loud mumble that went through the contestants. Chase didn’t think that was too bad of a stipulation. That would probably be his doom.

“Notice there aren’t any apples on the table. We’re not that nice.” Diego smiled. Chase kind of hated him. The guy hadn’t even done anything, but there was something smarmy about his smile.

“You’ll need to justify each ingredient and put them together with a delicious dressing that will persuade our judges to award your team with extra time. The top two fruit salads will get an extra half an hour; the bottom two will get a half an hour taken away from the usual allotted time. I hope you consider your choices wisely!”

Everyone mumbled quietly at that, although it wasn’t exactly a surprise. Last time it had been fifteen minutes, but there were two of them in a team. It made sense.

Diego smiled. “Please. Come forward. I will have the top three from yesterday’s judging pick a partner first, and then we’ll move alphabetically.”

Kai had been in the top three, as had Clarissa. Breon went first since he’d won the opening challenge. He dipped his hand into the pot and pulled out a name.

“Chase.”

He was working with Breon. Perfect. Chase had been worried he was going to get stuck with Dreya, who’d want to do something really weird, or Aaron, who’d probably just run around like he was having a panic attack and not get anything done. They quickly moved to Breon’s workstation and huddled together.

“So, dude, no apples. What are we going to do?” Breon muttered.

“I think we can do this. It’s more about coming up with a reason than anything else.”

Breon nodded, and they got to work planning.

When the buzzer rang, Chase and Breon rushed to the table, and each grabbed their assigned fruits. Then Chase grabbed a bottle of balsamic and some mint. The salad was going to be simple, but it had to taste good or else he’d screw them both out of time and bragging rights.

“We got everything?” Breon asked. Chase hadn’t meant to put him in charge, but he had been the winner, so technically this was his team. Chase just wanted to be cooperative and helpful.

Breon gave him a tight smile. “Good. Let’s start chopping.”

They slivered the fruit into sophisticated thin slices and arranged them on the plate, cantaloupe to represent Zabar’s lox for the Upper West Side brunch crowd, grilled peaches for the Village, homey but still chic. Blueberries to represent the musical history of Harlem, star fruit for Midtown to represent the stars of the stage. It looked beautiful, at least. Who knew if the judges were going to buy it? He hoped like hell they did.

Chase’s back started to sweat under the cameras and the harsh studio lights. He hadn’t gotten used to being filmed yet. Especially so close. Cameras shoved between him and Breon, got all up in their space and zoomed in on what they were doing. He assumed there’d be a voice-over later added for the viewers. He wished the damn cameras would stay away from him for five minutes, just long enough to gather some of his composure. Chase’s heart pounded a little, and then a lot. He knew he didn’t deal with stress very well.

He breathed a lot better when the cameras were away from them.

“Chase, can you handle the star fruit?”

“Sure. I’m on it.”

He grabbed a mandolin and started to cut the yellow fruit flesh into thin but stable slices. They were going to pile them in the middle like a version of Midtown’s Empire State Building, rising old and strong in the middle of the city. They had five more minutes.

“Who’s going to talk?” Breon asked.

“Why don’t we split it? I’ll talk about the ones I grabbed, you talk about yours. That way they can’t dock us for lack of teamwork.”

“Sounds good. Let me start on the mint balsamic.”

Chase nodded and went to finish slicing the fruits as fast and as perfectly as he could, laying them out around the tower of star fruit slices perfect and orderly, just like the streets of the city.

“How we doing for time?” Breon asked.

“Two minutes.”

“Balsamic is ready, but I don’t want to pour it until we present. I wish I could’ve had time to reduce it.”

“That would’ve been perfect,” Chase agreed. “These challenges are too short for that, though.”

Breon grunted in agreement. “It’ll have to work. It better work. I don’t know what’s up for later, but I want that damn extra time.”

Chase laughed. “Me too. Jesus.”

He remembered at that moment that he was supposed to be fighting with Kai. He didn’t know how they were going to not get along in front of the camera when they were too busy sprinting to get their damn challenges done. He glanced over at Kai, who looked at him softly for a second, then made to hide what they were working on as if Chase was going to steal their ideas. Chase had to hold back a giggle. Instead he rolled his eyes as if he’d ever in a million years steal ideas from Kai, and went back to his partner.

“Is it weird for you two to play enemies?” Breon whispered.

“Not really.” Chase whispered back. “It’s kind of a laugh. We just get along so well. We barely know each other, but I can’t imagine not liking him. So it’s kind of fun just to play along.” Sometimes. Sometimes it was a pain in the ass. At least it had been the week before.

Breon nodded. “Hopefully it doesn’t get weirder.”

“No time for it to, Jesus. If they stick us together on a challenge, I suppose we’re going to have to clash more visibly. I’m not sure how we’ll manage that. I’m not exactly an actor.”

“Yeah, none of us are. We’re behind the scenes in the kitchen, right?”

Chase was glad Breon saw how stupid it all was. “Exactly. Okay, done with the fruit. They’re going to call time in thirty seconds.”

Breon watched the clock, and just as time was running out, he drizzled their dressing over the fruit and lightly sprinkled it on the tower in the middle.

“Time!” Chase said right as the buzzer went off. “We made it.”

“That wasn’t too bad. Hopefully the judges buy our masterpiece of New York architecture.”

Chase grinned. He and Breon exchanged high fives.

They carried their tray up to the judging table and set it down. Basil looked pinched like he always did every time Chase saw him. He’d had an immediate bad reaction to him. The other two Chase didn’t know much about just yet. He supposed he was going to get to know them fairly quickly.

He looked up when Diego called him and Breon to the table. Judgment time.

They were the second team to be called up to talk through their creation, after Al and Jenna, who had underwhelmed the judges. Chase let Breon talk to start, explaining his ideas for the glaze, which was really the standout element of the dish.

“Why don’t you tell us about the choice of fruits, Chase?” Emilio said as he dug his fork into the big pile of star fruit.

“I—uh,” Chase stammered, then pulled himself together and launched into the spiel they’d discussed about the different fruits. Emilio nodded along, Nicolette took a small bite of each of the fruits, then set her fork down, and Basil didn’t look impressed.

“Balsamic and fruit isn’t the most original combination,” Basil said. “But it works, I’ll grant you that.”

Chase nodded but didn’t trust his voice, so he didn’t say anything else. Breon thanked the judges and took the half-finished plate back to their station.

Kai and his partner, Aaron, were up next, and Chase watched with growing horror as the judges tore their creation apart. For some reason Aaron had decided to make some kind of unsweetened custard instead of a dressing, which looked like scrambled eggs on the plate. It was disgusting—Chase knew it, the judges definitely did, and by the murderous look on Kai’s face, he knew how bad the situation had just gotten for him.

Fortunately the challenge wasn’t a make-or-break, and no one was being sent home on the back of it. The losers of the challenge—Kai and Aaron, just as Chase had expected—would have time deducted in the final task of the week, which would be tomorrow.