Page 2 of For Butter or Worse
“What?”Of course, he’d noticed.“No.” She self-consciously touched her hairline again.
The makeup person gave him a once-over, then smiled. “You’re set.”
Nina rolled her eyes. One of his many flaws was that he was physically flawless. The kind of man who only got right swipes and never had to pay for a drink in his life. And if anyone claimed they weren’t attracted to him, well...they’d be lying. Like people who said they hated cake.Liars.Even Nina would never deny that he was handsome, in a certain light, if you squinted hard enough. Luckily, his habit of “playfully” undercutting her canceled out any urges she might have toward him.
“It’s a good thing they can get your hair big enough to hide the witch hat.” Leo absentmindedly rolled up the cuff of his shirt, like he hadn’t even noticed she was there.
Nina ignored how seeing a hint of his skin made her mouth twitch, just slightly.Stop drooling.
“Don’t you want to use a little powder to take the shine off his cloven hooves?” Nina asked the makeup person, but she couldn’t help but notice that Leo’s lips twinged at her comment.
“We’re back in sixty!” Tiffany called out loudly to the crew, then turned to Nina. “Should I be worried?”
“If he can play nice, I will, too.” Nina eyed Leo, who either didn’t hear her or, more likely, chose to tune her out.
She understood why Tiffany was twitching, just like everyone else on set. For the first time in the history of the show’s three seasons, they were tapinglive. A ploy to boost the ratings, which had been steadily declining thanks to all the new reality shows cropping up...or so the network executives had explained. They needed to attract viewers to remain on the air, and stay relevant, even if it meant entering dangerous territory by taping live.
Which meant there were no editors to cut around the indignant stink eye Leo made every time Nina gave a food critique. The director couldn’t call “Cut!” so the audience wouldn’t hear the fake retching sounds Nina made when Leo attempted a lame dad joke. While nuanced editing created the illusion that Leo and Nina were occasionally cheeky toward each other, rather than mortal enemies, this time they wouldn’t have that luxury. They had to pretend to be absolutely delightful together—two sublime cake toppers for their audience at home. The stakes were high, and it was Tiffany’s job to keep them both in line.
“Don’t worry. I’m channeling Betty White.” Nina squeezed Tiffany’s shoulder.
In classic Tiffany fashion, she returned the gesture with a blank look.
“We both know I’m not the problem. Only one of us has an official nickname,” Leo said offhandedly, like he hadn’t just turned the stove up to high.
And now Nina was truly about to boil over, but instead she bit the inside of her cheek to keep what little cool she had.
Even after years of having “Nasty Nina” trend on Twitter, be used in tabloid articles and left in comments on her IG posts, the fact that she hadthatas a nickname genuinely hurt her feelings. She was Nasty Nina, and the wordnastywas definitely not a compliment. Especially not when trolls on Twitter lobbed it at her any time she so much as forgot to smile as the end credits rolled.
“I guess I should thank you for coining the nickname?” He was the reason she had one, after all.
“It was a joke. How was I supposed to know people would run with it?” He shrugged off her annoyance, like he couldn’t understand why she’d even be bothered.
That moment, captured in the holiday special during the show’s second season, was one she’d never forget. She could replay the clip on YouTube—it had over three million views and counting—whenever she wanted. His comment had caused their relationship as coworkers to turn from placid to a raging hellfire.
A contestant had baked a cake into the shape of Santa’s naughty-or-nice list. Unfortunately, the iced cursive letters weren’t easy to read. So when Leo bent down, he’d said, “Nasty or nice? We all know I’m on the nice list, but Nina...”
In response, she’d made a face. More specifically, her nostrils flared, her eyebrows raised nearly up to her scalp and her mouth had twisted open into a horrified grimace as if trying to swallow Leo whole.
The Nasty Nina meme soon followed. His offhand “joke” resulted in #NastyNina trending on Twitter for a whole weekend. And the nickname had stuck, further adding to her current reputation problem.
Well, “problem” was more of a euphemism for “nightmare.” When the show first started, patrons had flocked to her restaurants in San Francisco, Napa and Los Angeles. But after multiple seasons in which she’d been the harsh judge, the crowds had waned. As it turned out, people didn’t want to give money to a chef who made everyone cry. Nina was never proud when one of her comments hit a nerve, but she didn’t want to sugarcoat her reactions, either. She knew women were expected to be nurturing and sweet, but that just wasn’t her style. While she liked to think of herself as a mentor, ultimately, she preferred to give honest critiques that would help the contestants improve their craft. Was being candid really so wrong?
The novelty of her being a celebrity had worn off, too, and as of last month she’d quietly closed her Napa location. Her San Francisco spot had closed the year prior. All she had left was her Los Angeles restaurant—the first one she’d opened. At this point, using the show’s platform to turn her reputation around was critical.
And going down as the female Gordon Ramsay had never been part of the plan. She was ambitious, worked hard and saw this as a massive opportunity. She’d signed on to the show with the hope that she could become a household name and brand herself so she’d be in every living room in America. Eventually, she’d get her own show and open more restaurants. Maybe even bring her food to the east coast. A chef could dream!
But how could she accomplish any of that with Leo by her side? The truth was, he wanted her to be seen as the mean judge. From day one, he’d taken advantage of the fact that she was blunt, so he’d cranked up his own charm. When asked about how he “managed” working with Nasty Nina in interviews, he never came to her defense. And while she couldn’t completely prove it, she was fairly certain he’d even talked a producer into giving her the smaller dressing room. How else to explain that she got ready in a broom closet while he had enough space to fit a sectional sofa?
“We’re back in thirty!” Tiffany shouted to the set. Then added to Nina and Leo, “Remember, don’t step on each other’s lines. That last rehearsal was a disaster.”
“I’m happy to deliver Nina’s lines, since she seems incapable of reading off a monitor.” Leo glanced beyond her and directly at Tiffany, just as easily as discarding a wilted garnish.
Whatever—she wasn’t going to let his petty antics distract her from fixing how the viewers perceived her. Well, maybe she was... “The real problem is that you think your voice is the only one worth hearing.” Nina enunciated every word, and he finally looked at her. She glared back.
“My voice is preferable to the screeching banshee noise that comes out whenever you open your mouth.” He smiled widely, his teeth as white and sparkling as a clean countertop.
“I use a pitch only dogs can hear, so no surprise that includes you.” Nina squeezed her arms tightly across her chest to keep from lunging for his throat.
