Page 30 of All For You

Lizzy

“Iwant to die.” Simon, the director, dropped his fork on the plate with a clatter.

Harry was glued to our side with his camera. Clearly, we’d replaced Goatee as the focus.

Simon pushed his plate away and grimaced. The other two judges sitting at the kitchen island made similar faces and turned away from the table.

“Seriously,” Simon went on with a groan. “This dish is literally making me gag. I’m not sure if it’s the smell, the taste, or the look of it. Maybe all three.”

This wasn’t a surprise. Simon had asked to judge ours first. As soon as the judges had sliced into the pastry, I could tell the chicken was gray, and the pastry was as I suspected—half cooked.

Both Wills and Jane were grimacing politely in the corner closest to the door, which Wills had opened. Emma, always lacking any artifice, pinched her nose shut. Did I imagine that the dogs stretching out by the fire dug their noses farther into the thick pile of the rug?

Simon waved away the dish. “I honestly can’t eat a second bite.”

“It’s the blue cheese,” Darcy said. “You have to ease into the taste. One more bite? To make sure.” This man was nothing if not persistent—he did not take no for an answer.

I could see why he was successful in negotiation.

Holding the dish at arm’s length, Simon gingerly pulled apart the rolled-up chicken. More of the bad smell wafted into the air. With a grimace, Simon brought the plate to his nose. “That’s the smell. The nuts are off.”

“Thenuts? You didn’t smell that as you were chopping?” I asked Darcy.

Darcy shrugged indignantly. “They were heart nuts. I assumed the smell would cook off.”

Irritation prickled through me. “What do you mean, the ‘smell would cook off’? That’s not a thing. You don’t know anything about cooking, do you?”

“You’re the one who said the pastry was similar.”

“I didn’t say it was similar. I said they werenotthe same. And then you pulled the dish out of the oven way too soon.”

He gave a disgusted sigh. “I took the lead, made all the decisions, and now, looking in the rearview mirror, you’re the expert with twenty-twenty vision.”

What? Now he was turning on me? This man was not used to being challenged or criticized. “That’s it. I’m not doing anything else with you again this weekend.”

“That’s fortuitous,” Simon said. “Because you two have not won the prize this afternoon, with your gray chicken and rancid nuts and whatever other horrid goopy mess was in there. So, you won’t be going together on the romantic afternoon.”

I felt a mix of emotions. Disappointment I didn’t have the chance to get inspiration for my next book, followed by a wash of relief that I wouldn’t be spending any more time with Darcy.

Simon turned to us. “I think I speak for all of us when I say, Darcy, could you take this chicken outside and throw it in thefarthest bin—it’s turning my stomach. Trystan, could we open all the windows?”

Trystan obliged, as Darcy headed outside with the smelly chicken wrapped and at arm’s length. I wished I could do the same with Darcy. I noticed the cameraman smiling, like he’d caught great footage. I bristled.

The three crew then tasted Emma and Knightley’s starter of veggie slices with a light salsa. I’d bet those two argued over the menu the entire time, as Knightley had a propensity for raw food, and Emma, who rarely cooked, had a weakness for junk food and rich, cheesy sauces. The judges had pronounced it tasty but not really cooking.

Emma glared and hissed, “Told you so,” to Knightley.

I was at least happy that Jane would get an afternoon away…and with the good brother.

The judges then took a mouthful of Wills and Jane’s galette made with berries Trystan had picked from the house’s bushes and added whipped cream. Jane admitted the short pastry was from Trystan’s fridge, which Trystan had clearly made by hand. One glance at Darcy glowering in the corner indicated he wanted to object, but the camera was still on us and even he seemed to recognize it would make him look petty. The berries alone would have won over our chicken disaster.

This little exercise had shown that Wills and Jane were both people who gracefully accepted advice and help and did not make life hard on themselves. A winning combination.

Unlike Darcy and me. Worse, I’d been worried last night the show made me seem silly and unserious, undermining my professionalism. With this debacle, I’d gone right past silliness to idiocy.

Too close next to me, Darcy ground his teeth. His elbow rubbed against my arm, and I moved away, annoyed.

The judges conferred in a corner, but they were all nodding in unison one minute later.