Page 86 of Pitcher Perfect

I wanted that grand prize so much. I dug my fingernails into my palms.

The restaurant association representative took the mic. “The chef grand prize includes a top-tier booth at the Portland Bites festival next spring, free advertising in several publications, a cooking segment onGood Morning, Portlandto show your winning dish, and your eatery’s inclusion in the Eat Oregon Passport program.”

The crowd clapped and cheered.

The restaurant guy continued. “I’m sure some of you saw us teasing on our social media that we have a big surprise for you.” He scanned the crowd, smiling. “We have a special guest judge joining us this year. He’s a past winner of Portland Pairing and a household name. It’s my pleasure to introduce Chef Henry Hewitt.” He gestured to the side of the stage where my dad entered.

Where. My Dad. Walked. On. The Fucking. Stage.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.My dad’s here? Why didn’t he tell me?I didn’t catch any of the words coming out of his mouth over the ringing in my ears. His showbiz smile sent my hackles up. Numbly, I felt someone take my right hand and barely noticed Caleb move closer while the other guys circled around me like a protective wolf pack.

“Is everything okay?” Rick asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” Caleb said quietly then squeezed my hand.

I held on to it like my lifeline.

“Don’t wander too far. We’ll be back shortly to announce the grand prize winner after counting the public votes,” one of the emcees said into the microphone.

My eyes tracked my dad like a predator as he gave a smarmy smile to the men on stage while shaking their hands. At the conclusion of the receiving line, he turned and scanned the crowd. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me up. The moment he spotted me, I choked on my breath. He waved at someone off stage to join him then beelined it for me.

It took me a few minutes to realize he’d waved over a camera crew to join him.A fucking camera crew.Heat burned at the back of my neck as I remembered what Wendy had said about my dad having a new TV show.

My self-preservation instinct screamed,Ambush!

“Son! So great to see you.” He pushed through the protective circle around me and pulled me into a hug.

My arms stayed glued to my sides. Of course, he didn’t take the hint.

“This is so exciting, isn’t it?” He clapped me on my shoulder and turned to look around the room, facing the big poster with his face. “Feels like yesterday.”

Aaaand he immediately made it about him.I studied his face. I hadn’t been in the same room as him for a few years, since I worked too much to travel to see him. I expected more gray in his hair or wrinkles on his face. It only took me a moment to realize he’d probably had work done before his big television debut with his first series.

“I couldn’t miss your big day.”

Couldn’t miss my big day?If he were there for me, he wouldn’t have a fucking camera crew with him, wouldn’t have signed up to judge and not told me about it. If he were there for me, he would’ve come as an attendee like Aunt Carolyn had.

“Why are you here?” My voice sounded strangled.

His smile dimmed ever so slightly as he glanced at the cameras. “To support my only son, of course. When you called me about using the kitchen, I thought, what the hell? I’ll revisit where everything changed for me. Now I’m back, filming for my first TV show. Isn’t this exciting?”

“So exciting,” I said dryly.

Dad turned to the camera. “Don’t worry. We don’t know who the food and beer belong to when we score, so I had no idea which was my son’s. Everything was on the up-and-up.” He winked.

If we ever talked, he would know what I made because he would know about my life. Though, that level of interest would require caring about someone more than himself.

Speaking of people who only cared about Henry Hewitt. “Is Mom here?”

“No, she’s at some charity event in San Diego. You know how she loves charity events.”

Actually, I didn’t.And ouch.

I was scared to look at Caleb. I couldn’t handle it if I looked at him and saw his excitement at meeting the man who inspired his career.How could I blame him, though?His hero was standing feet away from him. That was a blow I didn’t have the strength for, but like a masochist, I looked anyway. It took my breath away.

His face held no excitement or joy or awe as he stared at my dad because Caleb wasn’t even looking at him. My dad might as well have been a piece of shit on the floor for as much attention as Caleb gave him. No, his attention was focused solely on me, and the only thing I saw on his face was concern. For me.

I’m falling in love with him.

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