Page 57 of A Sudden Romance

“I want to hear all about your wedding preparations.” Iris’s voice continued to be the perfect background noise in his mind, the only voice he’d want echoed.

While they chatted as they hovered in the main room, Sabastian asked if anyone needed something to drink, but no one did as they doled out room assignments. With the girls staying in the guesthouse, it could take an eternity before he bumped into Iris other than at meal times.

The men, couples, aunts and uncles, and grandparents were staying in the main house where the grandparents could access the elevator if they needed to. The elevator rarely ran unless someone needed to carry large items upstairs or they had an elderly guest.

As the guests settled in, Sabastian made Greek food for dinner. Mixed grilled vegetables with chicken and beef kabobs.

Tomorrow, he wasn’t cooking. He didn’t need a break, but for the reunions, the family refused to let him cook, insisting he participate in the activities.

One day, though, the organizers were required to cook a meal or dessert during the weeklong event. Since he was helping Iris, he’d make dinner and dessert with her on whichever day they’d decided to cook. He’d been paying too much attention to her to focus on the day she selected, but he could always check the event calendar she’d set up in the kitchen.

After dinner that night, he joined the guys for four-on-four basketball on the court before he called it a night. Tomorrow would be a big day.

And, if he was lucky, he’d spend ten minutes alone with Iris.

***

AFTER HIS MORNING PRAYERS the next day, Sabastian checked his emails before heading to the house. He’d tried not to think much about the cooking event, but it lurked in his mind. If he didn’t qualify, he’d have brutal proof he wasn’t capable of running his own restaurant. But if he did qualify, could he handle cooking under pressure?

He tapped the onscreen email icon, and nerves danced in his stomach when he saw one email’s subject line: The Winter Showdown: Congratulations!

With shaky hands, he clicked on the email.

Dear Sabastian Diakos,

You’ve been selected as one of four chefs to cook on our show’s episode, “The Winter Showdown.”

The winner of this event gets fifty thousand and goes to Vegas to compete with quality chefs for an opportunity to win a restaurant makeover.

There’s a thousand-dollar nonrefundable entry fee.

As he skimmed the date and details, his heart thudded in his throat, and his mind worked out scenarios of what would be if he won. Especially the Vegas event that could earn him his own restaurant. In any city he wanted.

Wait! He hadn’t even considered his life past Pleasant View. Did Pleasant View need another swanky restaurant? Maybe. He couldn’t start a Greek restaurant. He’d be competing with the Portuguese restaurant. One ethnic restaurant was enough for the town.

He read the end of the email.

If you’re unable to commit to this event, please respond to this email by December 20.

Jameson, TV host and coordinator.

The event would go on with or without Sabastian. He’d looked at the venue where the event was already scheduled. How many chefs had they turned down to choose him? His chest rose, then subsided as more questions and doubts slammed down on him.

He hovered his finger on the mouse, contemplating whether to reply right away. His glance lifted to the photos of Greece on the wall. The photos of old restaurants resembled his childhood home before it went up in flames.

“Thank you, and I’ll be there” was the practical response. But, man, this was a big deal.

What if he embarrassed himself on TV with a live audience?

With plenty of talented chefs out there, he was no match. Maybe he’d better not commit just yet. Especially, right now, when he wasn’t so sure about this decision.

He stepped out of the office and snatched his keys from the hook in the hallway closet.

He’d pray about it and run the idea by Iris. After all, she’d suggested this plan. Perhaps she’d realize how terrified he was and let him back out.

Except, she probably wanted him to be something more than the house chef. Would she want him if he didn’t win this competition? Was she counting on him becoming a restaurant owner, someone she could be proud of with her coworkers and friends?

Would his career determine his fate with her?

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