Page 16 of Winner Takes All

It’s another day at the competition. Sometimes it seems like it goes on forever, and at other times it feels like it’s going far too quickly. Right now, though, I’m in my element as the crowd enjoys the festivities. I have new people around me today, and I need to impress them. I’ve got my head more on my shoulders as a new determination to beat Victor fills me. It’s funny because there are eight other people in the contest, but I’m not thinking about them. This is between Victor and me and no one else.

I give a brief glance over at his station where he’s once again charming his onlookers with an easy smile and smooth moves. I have to admit it’s infuriating how effortlessly he commands attention. It doesn’t matter, though, I’m not letting him win today. I’m focused, determined, and ready to show off some magic.

I set my pan on the heat, the pot beginning to bubble, when I hear a sudden, ominous pop. My heart lodges in my throat as I see the lid rattle. What the heck? This is a marinade I simmered all day yesterday to develop flavors. All I have to do today is heat it up, add some herbs, and it’s ready to go. I start to lift the lid when I jump back as the entire thing bubbles over the sides, purple liquid spilling as foam rises, making the crowd clap.

There’s another pop and the lid pops up as my station is covered in blackberry barbecue sauce. A gasp goes up in the crowd as they realize this isn’t planned. What in the heck just happened? I have more sauce as this is a big group and I’ve prepared plenty to serve, but this is my pot to show the crowd how I finish it for my incredible chicken wings. I’m proud of this sauce. It took me nearly three months to perfect, and there’s nothing like it on the market.

I don’t know what to do when above all the noise I hear Victor’s laugh. I glance over and see him chuckling before he sends me a wink. I wipe droplets of sauce from my face as I realize he sabotaged me. I’m immediately taken back to high school when we’d put pop rocks into each other’s dishes when we were in cooking class together. This isn’t high school, though, and this means war.

I throw down my apron as I immediately march over to his station, murder in my eyes. I’m going to destroy this man. He’s thrown down the gauntlet now. The crowd parts and I’m sure they’re all wishing for popcorn as they sit back and watch the show.

“Seriously, Victor?” I snap. “Do you really want war?”

He smiles at me. “Takes you back to high school, doesn’t it? Those were good times,” he says, not at all worried at my wrath.

“We aren’t kids anymore, and someone could’ve gotten hurt,” I tell him.

“I made sure it wouldn’t affect the competition. I want to win because I’m the best. You have plenty of sauce to give the judges,” he tells me with ease.

“You ruined my dish,” I growl.

“You’re good at what you do. You’ll figure it out,” he says.

“You want to play games? Good. I like games,” I tell him. I pick up the full glass of iced-lemonade he has sitting on hisstation. I dump the entire contents over his stir-fry. He doesn’t even blink.

The crowds’ heads are turning to look back and forth between us. They came for a show, and they’re certainly getting one. Victor takes his fork and scoops out some lemonade soaked veggies, takes a bite, then smiles.

“Not too bad. Maybe I need to modify my recipe,” he says, infuriating me even more.

“I want to try some,” a woman shouts. I glare at her and she simply giggles. This man can serve them mud and they’ll approve. Is this all hopeless?

“You’re insufferable,” I tell him.

“I challenge you, and you love it,” he counters.

I’m done with this. I turn my back on him and stalk back to my station, my mind racing with thoughts of revenge and plans on upping the ante. I’m going to show this man I’m not someone to be messed with.

I clean up my mess, apologize for the unexpected show, then bring out my already prepared wings and the crowd murmurs their approval, several of them telling me they’re the best wings they’ve ever had, begging me to bottle the sauce and put it up for sale. This greatly improves my mood. My dream is to do exactly this. If I get the Food Network to take an interest in me, it might be a possibility.

As soon as the last of the food is served, I decide I need to get away for a while. I’m still burning with irritation, and I can’t look over at Victor anymore. I need to run off my agitation and soothe my nerves.

I rush home, change clothes, and head for the beach, running at a much faster pace than normal. As soon as my bare feet are on the cool sand with the ocean breeze blowing against my hot cheeks I feel better. It doesn’t take long before the rhythm of the waves matches the beat of my heart. With each step I take I feelmore myself. No matter how fast I move, though, I can’t outrun thoughts of Victor — his laugh, his smile, the way he gets under my skin.

I slow then move over to a private cove and lean against the rocks as I get control of my breathing. I have to move fast to lose my breath and break a sweat, which I’ve achieved. At least Victor’s making me exercise more. That’s always good.

I hear footsteps then see the man still on my thoughts quickly approaching, still wearing a smile on his full lips. Can’t I go anywhere to get away from him? My heart immediately starts pounding again as if I haven’t stopped running.

“What are you doing here, Victor?” I snap, not even trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

His smile falls. “It was just a joke, Nik. I don’t want to sabotage you. I honestly miss hanging with you, miss our fun together. I’m sorry if I pushed it too far.”

His words stun me. I don’t know what to think. I want to tell myself it’s a trick, but sincerity rings in his voice. We might have a lot of tension between us, but we’ve never done anything deliberately evil.

“Apology accepted. Now, go away,” I tell him.

Instead of leaving, he steps closer, his gaze intense. “Nik, stop pushing me away.”

“Stop pushing forward,” I counter.

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