Page 22 of Show Off

“And practicing my spy skills.”

“Fine.” I chew thoughtfully. “How are you so good at that, anyway?”

“People don’t always see the guy in the wheelchair.” He shrugs and bites into his sandwich. “They’re so busy trying not to stare that they overcompensate and don’t see you at all.”

A knife spears my heart. I set down my sandwich and take a big gulp of water. I’m scratching my chest absentmindedly when the doorbell rings.

“I’ve got it.” Dropping his sandwich, my brother rolls to the door. Hand on the knob, he looks back and grins. “By the way, I told Cooper Judson they could swing by the house.”

For fuck’s sake. “Why the hell is Coop?—”

But that’s all I get out before Ji-Hoon throws open the door. “Come in, come in.” He wheels back to let Cooper pass, and that’s when I see her—Lana.

She glances at me and I expect her to blush, but no. She just pastes on a smile and sips from a mug that says,That’s a horrible idea. What time?“I hope we’re not interrupting.”

“It’s fine.” I shove the last bite of sandwich in my mouth and stand to clear my plate. “What’s up?”

Gabe’s behind Cooper, camera rolling as Coop chats with my brother. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Tell me what?” God, I hate secrets.

But Ji-Hoon looks thrilled about this one. Lana, not so much. Uneasiness fills her blue eyes as she looks at me. “I’m sorry,” she says like she means it. “We can do this another t?—”

“No, come on.” My brother grins and wheels back to face me. “I wanted you to be the one to tell him.”

Irritation sharpens my voice. “What the fuck are you all talking about?”

Lana’s unruffled, maybe because she’s used to having assholes come unglued at her. “The Best of Oregon chowder contest.” She grins and bounces on her heels. “You won!”

I blink and then frown. “I entered?”

“You did.” My brother’s grin fills in some pretty big gaps. “With your coconut curry chowder.”

I won’t even ask how that happened. Lana’s watching me with an “aren’t brothers a pain in the ass” look that makes me feel mildly better about this whole thing.

“You’re the champion in the ‘Creative Flair’ category,” she explains. “In addition to a plaque to put up at Serenade, they’ve asked if you’ll help judge next year’s competition.”

“Which starts immediately.” Cooper claps his hands together. “They’re giving you plenty of time to taste your way around the state.”

I look at Ji-Hoon. Travel with a guy in a wheelchair gets challenging in the best of circumstances. “No.” That came out harsh. “No, thank you.”

Cooper looks crestfallen. Lana looks…unsurprised?

“We anticipated you might have questions.” She clears her throat like nothing fazes her, and I hate how much I admire that. “The committee acknowledges that celebrity chefs?—”

“Which you are,” Ji-Hoon adds obnoxiously.

Lana keeps going. “You have schedules to keep, restaurants to run,” she says. “They understand that. Which is why they give you ten months to spread out the judging.”

Ten months to travel around the state, tasting chowder? “Doesn’t matter. A head chef can’t just leave his restaurant.” Surely they know this.

“Exactly.” Lana smiles like she knew I’d object. “Which is why Sean Bracelyn offered to sub for you.”

“From Ponderosa Resort,” adds Cooper, like I don’t know who Sean Fucking Bracelyn is. Only the most famous chef in the Pacific Northwest.

“Sean’s got his own restaurant to run.” Even as I say it, I know Lana’s got an answer.

“He’s on paternity leave with baby number two.” Lana tries not to look triumphant. “Scheduled himself out for a whole year, but he’s getting restless six months in. Says he’d love a chance to keep his skills sharp.”

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