“Yeah. I’m not sure she wouldn’t say,Even though they think the marriage is fake, I know they’re secretly in love with each other.”
Kia glanced at Sullivan’s handsome profile.
I was in love with you, she said in her mind. It was hyperbole. She hadn’t beenin lovewith Sullivan, but all those years of infatuation, respect, lust, and the fiery need to beat Sullivan at everything… that added up to something love adjacent. But their story wasn’t anything like Deja might imagine. Despite the raucouscrowd and the pleasure of Sullivan sitting next to her, their story was sad. It was a story of unrequited… something and missed opportunities.
“Kia?” Sullivan asked as if sensing the turn of Kia’s mood.
“Deja will feel like a fool when she finds out,” Kia said. “We’re not super close, but she’s a great assistant. I’m an asshole.”
“With all this lawsuit bullshit,” Sullivan said quietly, “she’s safer if she doesn’t know. What if Mega Eats said she was an accomplice? You look out for people. That’s what Taste the Love is about, right? Looking after people?”
How could Sullivan know this was just what she wanted to hear from her? This is what Kia had desperately wanted Sullivan to see when they argued in the woods.I’m not Mega Eats.Sullivan released Kia’s hand and put her arm around her, pulling Kia a fraction of an inch closer. Their bodies touched. Kia wanted to melt into Sullivan.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Now,” Sullivan said, “are we ready to do our thing?”
Kia stood up, pulling Sullivan with her.
“Thank you, Deja.” Kia waited for the crowd to turn to her. “In honor of our time at school, I’ve invited Chef Sullivan to a cooking competition. Right here. Do you want to settle this OG style?” Kia put on a thousand-watt smile. “You. Me. Half an hour. Five ingredients that the audience chooses. Or are you afraid of all that ketchup and no sustainable pepper?”
Kia planted a light kiss on Sullivan’s cheek to soften the question.
The noise of the bar faded. She’d kissed Sullivan. It was just a kiss on the cheek, butherlips had touchedSullivan’sface. The sensation of Sullivan’s soft skin lingered on her lips. Kia tried to face the crowd, but she couldn’t tear her eyes off Sullivan, searchingfor the micro-expression that would tell her if Sullivan minded.
Sullivan looked at her, one eyebrow raised. For a moment, Kia’s whole world was Sullivan’s blue eyes. Then Sullivan put her arm around Kia and kissed Kia’s forehead.
“You’re on.Babe.”
Sullivan had forgotten—and in another way she could never forget—the way the air in the kitchen changed when she and Kia concentrated. Sullivan barely noticed Deja dancing around taking video. The noises of prep and line cooks still making orders for the bar faded. It had been like that at school. Only Kia was real. She was the only one to beat. And how the fuck was Sullivan going to beat Kia when most of her ingredients came from a deconstructed Bloody Mary?
“Is that a sauce or a soup? I can’t tell,” Kia teased.
Sullivan glanced up.
“Eyes on your own plate, Jackson.”
The wordsI missed youalmost left Sullivan’s mouth. Then she lost herself in her cooking. She didn’t realize she’d been talking to the onions she was chopping until Kia called out, “Are the onions giving you shit, Chef? I’ll kick their ass for you.”
The onions had made Sullivan tear up, and she wiped away a tear with the sleeve of her shirt.
“I am dominating these onions.” Sullivan chopped defiantly. To the onions, she said, “Don’t think I can’t cry through a hundred more of you.”
“You tell ’em, Chef.” Kia blew her a kiss.
It had always made her feel special when Kia teased her. Kia had never teased anyone else in school. Sullivan had once asked her why. Kia had answered without hesitation.Because I like you best.
Half an hour later, they stood at either end of the bar. Their presentations were immaculate. Sullivan’s tiny cups of Bloody Mary gazpacho lined up in front of her. Kia’s stuffed Bloody Mary chicken wings standing at attention.
The bartender picked judges from the audience.
A server who’d been filming them in the kitchen bit into Kia’s chicken.
“It’s so good!”
Five judges tasted the food. Two picked Kia. Two picked Sullivan. One claimed there was no way they could choose.
“Who’s going to break the tie?” the bartender asked.
