Page 1 of Winner Takes All

Prologue

Nikki

The sweet, salty breeze from the Pacific Ocean fills my lungs as I push my legs to go a bit faster along the familiar stretch of my favorite Seaville beach. The sand shifts beneath my feet with every stride I take, a comforting resistance that reminds me of where I started in life, and where I’ve come back to.

It’s early evening and the sun’s beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the waves, filling me with a surge of determination. This is my year, this is where my dreams start coming true. There’s no doubt I love to run, but this year I’m doing more than moving my feet, this year I’m running to win.

It’s been a full year since we’ve returned to Seaville, a year since I competed in the cooking competition at our anticipated summer festival. It’s been a year since I stood before a crowd, my heart thundering in front of the community I grew up in... and lost. That was a humiliating defeat. I vowed I’d stick to my vlog and never compete again.

But like all convictions done in the heat of the moment, I’ve, of course, waivered since then. This is my home, the town I grew up in, the town I’ve returned to, and no one is taking my victory from me twice.

Sia and I left Seaville thinking the big wide world was a much more exciting place than our boring little beach town. Howwrong we were. We didn’t truly appreciate our childhood home until we saw the rest of the world and how chaotic it truly is.

When we left Seaville at eighteen, we drove up north, seeking adventure and new lives. We certainly got that, but we also got traffic, crime, and sad hearts from missing the family we once thought was oppressing us. How foolish teenage girls can be. Sia and I went to school and made lives for ourselves, but the homesickness was too much to bear. The thread that called us home never severed.

One thing that happened while we were away, though, was my newfound love of cooking. I put all of my time and effort into learning the chemistry of ingredients, how to make food go from ordinary to extraordinary. I know I still have a lot to learn as cooking is an ever-evolving work of art, but I love every moment of it, which is why I have to win this year’s competition. I think it’s more to prove to myself I’m good enough as much as to prove it to the rest of the world.

I slow my pace as I near the end of my long run, the roar of the ocean in perfect sync with my deep breathing. As the sun dips lower, painting the horizon in shades of orange, pink, yellow, and purple, I slow to a walk, move to a cozy cove on the beach, and remove my backpack, unrolling my yoga mat before I sit.

My muscles are heated from my vigorous run, and I smile as I stretch, moving into a series of my favorite yoga poses. My mind should be blank, but one name appears in my head over and over again, and won’t leave... Victor Fortier. He’s back in town and my mind is flooded with memories, some good, but mostly bad, I assure myself.

We always competed in school, far more rivals than friends. He was filled with charm and a natural talent that most people would kill to possess. I wasn’t the most talented, but I certainly was the most determined and have always had a drive and focusthat’s never handed me what I want, but made me achieve my goals through sheer strength.

The rivalry between Victor and I was the stuff of legends in our small town. Everyone could clearly see the sparks flying between us as we competed far too often. It’s almost as if we were destined to clash, two opposing forces bent on mutual destruction even if that meant bringing everyone around us down as well.

After all of these years apart, I’d think I’ve moved past this. Obviously I haven’t, because when I saw him last year, standing across from me in the cooking competition, which he didn’t win either, all of my competitiveness came straight back to the surface. It was even greater as I watched his cocky grin as he dared to wink at me while in a booth that was placed far too close to mine. I growl as I move into a downward dog and fall. He’s still messing with me even when he isn’t here.

I force myself back into the downward dog pose, this time holding my frame in place, and force out a breath, feeling the tension ease from my shoulders. The ocean’s rhythmic sounds and the call of the seagulls wrap around me like a comforting blanket. This place is where I belong, and no one will chase me away.

I’m glad I went to Seattle, glad I moved away. It shaped me into who I am today and finally gave me a deep appreciation for both home and family. It also reminded me that this is my battleground and I’ll claim victory here because I want it more than anyone else.

I smile, thinking about the journey home. Sia met Zach, whose brother married one of our friends from home. Sia and Zach had a bit of their own history; it’s funny how fate seems to keep on connecting people together. How could she meet a man in our small town and then find him again in the huge cityof Seattle years later? Fate is an odd thing, and it seems that nothing can stop it.

Watching Sia navigate her new relationship, seeing her fight for something, lit a fire in me as well. Now that we’re back home and both happy, I can give my all to cooking and truly make it my dream career. I’ve built a very successful vlog, and now the world is my oyster.

The competition this year will be fierce. Victor will want to win as much as I do, though I don’t see why since it’s not his career ambition. He’s been a soldier and will eventually take over his father’s mechanic shop now that he’s back home. Cooking’s my life, it’s just a hobby for him.

I move into a seated position, crossing my legs and closing my eyes. The sun’s almost disappeared, leaving the sky in a soft twilight glow. Peace fills me as I deeply inhale, filling my lungs with the crisp evening air, then exhale slowly, letting go of the last of my doubts.

This is my year and nothing will stand in my way, not Victor, not my own doubts, absolutely nothing. This competition is mine, and Iwillwin. I’m going to be standing on that stage as I’m declared the winner with the crowd cheering my name. This isn’t a fantasy, it’s a surety.

I finish my yoga, then roll up the mat before beginning my walk home, the last remnants of daylight fading away. The beach is quiet, the sound of gentle waves lapping against the sand adding to the peacefulness. Tomorrow is a new day; let the preparations begin. I start humming, already feeling my victory, already feeling more relaxed and more determined.

Chapter One

Victor

Over the past fifty years Seaville hasn’t changed much. Sure, some new shops have opened and some have closed, but the small-town aesthetics aren’t much different from when my dad was my age. There’s comfort in that. Some might not like it, and I certainly complained a lot when I was a kid, but now I appreciate it more than I ever thought possible.

The community still smells of salt and sea with the occasional delicious aroma of cinnamon from the bakery and fried fish from the Mermaid Café. The streets are just as narrow, lined with quaint shops and locals walking along them who never pass up a good gossip session. This used to drive me crazy, but now I find comfort in it. Coming home feels like wrapping up in my favorite ragged blanket. There are a lot of ghosts on the streets, though, who like to remind you of their memories, some of which you hoped would be forgotten.

I close my eyes for a brief moment before snapping them back open as I lean against my old Ford truck and gaze at the mechanic shop my father has run since before I was born. Fortier’s Auto Repair, as the faded sign hanging proudly above the garage says, still gives me a sense of comfort. There are so many memories of my childhood wrapped up in this shop...memories of me running around the stained floors, thinking my dad was the coolest man in the world. I still feel this way.

I spent my summers in this shop learning the trade at my father’s greasy hands. His dream has always been for me to take over the family business one day. I can do the work, and I’m quite good at it, but that’s his passion, not mine. My father was proud the day I enlisted in the Marines, but there was never any doubt his hope was for me to return home after my adventures were over. I’m home, but I feel a bit sick at what I need to tell him.

The shop door creaks open and I smile as my dad walks out, wiping his hands on a red rag as I’ve seen him do a million times before. There’s comfort in the fact that he hasn’t changed much. Sure, he has a bit more grey in his hair and a few more laugh lines around his eyes, but the man’s still strong and stubborn as hell, with a deep knowledge in his green eyes. He might be a blue-collared man, but he’s smarter than any person I know. He consumes books every night, saying the mind only dies when a person stops seeking knowledge. As soon as he spots me his weathered face lights up in a grin that takes ten years away.

“Victor, my boy,” he says as he comes forward and gives me a hug. “Glad you’re finally back home.”

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