Maia’s lips tightened into a thin line, and her throat moved as she swallowed. But she stood there, hands clasped behind her back, and listened.
“Overall, a bit amateurish, but not terrible.” Liza waved a hand and the staff guys took the project away. The others clapped, and for Ava’s part, she was trying to let Maia know how good her work was. She suspected the others felt the same.
The next three were Paige, then Vienna, then Madison. Ava thought all their bakes looked spectacular, especially Vienna’s barbecue, complete with a miniature gas grill that looked so real, Ava expected to feel heat coming off it. Liza systematically pointed out a couple positive things and more negative things on each of them, but the other chefs clapped each time, and Maia even whistled at Vienna’s.
“Ava, you’re next,” Liza said, and the staff members carried her bake out and set it on the display table. Regan gave her a little thumbs-up as she headed toward the front and took her place near her project.
“To me,” she said, forcing cheer into her tone, “the Fourth of July represents family and gathering, and all I kept thinking of for that was a big picnic in the park. Right? Lush green grass, all the regular picnic foods, games like corn hole, and then, once it gets dark, fireworks.”
Liza circled the bake, taking in the details. Ava stood still, hands clasped behind her back, and tried not to sweat through her chef’s coat. “Your picnic table is a little unsteady.” She poked it with a finger, but it didn’t collapse or fall over. “Nice work on the Isomalt. Your fireworks are impressive. How’d you get them to stay up like that?”
Ava pointed to the clear sticks Becca had found somewhere. “Just these. They worked well.”
Liza nodded. “Mm-hmm.” She took another lap around. “Nice frosting. And your piping is consistent. Good work. Very, very good work.” She waved a hand, and the staff guys came in to whisk her project away.
Almost instantly, her heart began to ease up on the pounding, and she headed back to her spot. But when her eyes met Regan’s, the expression shocked her. Regan wasn’t smiling. Her eyes were dark and cloudy, and her face had lost all color. Ava mouthedAre you okay?just as Liza called Regan’s name.
Regan closed her eyes for a moment, then seemed to have to force herself to walk to the front of the room. She didn’t look at Ava. What in the world was going on with her?
It only took another few seconds for the answer to that question to become perfectly, horrifyingly clear.
“Oh, my,” Liza said. “What have we here?”
Ava stared. Regan’s bake looked exactly like hers, complete with Isomalt fireworks in red and blue, and tiny fondant foods on the picnic table made of brownies.
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no…
“Pretty sure I specifically said not to share your ideas with anybody,” Liza said, and there was something about the tone of her voice.She knew, Ava thought.She saw both our bakes from the beginning. She had to know we were making the same thing, yet she never spoke up.
“I didn’t,” Regan said, her voice so soft, Ava almost didn’t hear it.
“No? Then how did you come up with Ava’s idea?”
“I—” The battle in Regan’s head was clear on her face, and Ava watched it play out. Regan cleared her throat. “I followed your instructions. I guess we just had the same idea.”
There was only one explanation for what had happened. The assistants. Either Hadley had stolen Ava’s idea or Becca had stolen Regan’s. And since this idea had been a suggestion from Becca…
Jesus Christ.
Ava thought back on the tiny details. The cornhole—Becca’s idea. The fireworks—Ava’s suggestion, but the Isomalt was Becca’s. Even the tiny foods on the picnic table. Ava had wanted to add people, but Becca thought they’d be too difficult and suggested they focus on food instead.
Becca had stolen Regan’s idea and passed it to Ava as her own.
Oh, God.
She was stuck. The last thing a chef did was throw their sous chef under the bus. It was considered cheap and unfair and an asshole move, and when there was an issue, the chef took the fallout, similar to a captain going down with the ship. Plus, Liza would take way too much pleasure in frying her like an egg if she blamed Becca. But she was sure that’s who was to blame. She couldn’t even begin to get into the why of it yet. She was too stunned.
“I don’t tolerate cheating, even in a retreat where there are no grades.” Liza shook her head, and there was something about her expression. “You came here to learn, and stealing isn’t something I teach.” With the wave of her hand, she dismissed Regan, but Ava still watched her face because there was something…
And then Liza met her gaze, and it hit her.
She’s enjoying this.
Liza Bennett-Schmidt quirked one corner of her mouth just enough for Ava to understand. She liked the turmoil. She fed off the discord.
What the fuck?
Regan hurried back to her station, eyes on the floor, face flaming red. Ava kept her eyes on her, pleading for her to look up, but she wouldn’t. Ava saw a drop fall from her cheek and realized she was silently crying. Her heart squeezed in her chest.
