Page 134 of I Knead You Tonight

We stand and clap as Drew’s class files onto the stage.

She blushes as we whistle and hoot, making much more noise than anyone else in the building.

I wave Riker’s hand toward her, and Drew’s smile widens.

“I know you’re all probably starving,” the instructor says as we take our seats again.

“Famished,” Sully mutters.

“So we’ll try to make the awards ceremony quick.”

He flies through about five awards, and with each one, I see the hope in Drew’s eyes dim.

She’s been working so hard these past few months. She doesn’t need an award to prove this is where she belongs, but I know she wants one.

I want one for her too.

“For our next award, we have the Ultimate Sacrifice Award. This award is given to the student who not only exemplifies excellence in the kitchen, always looking out for not just themselves but the other chefs and upholding the integrity of the kitchen, but who also pushes themselves outside of kitchen hours.”

The instructor looks down the line of students.

“Drew Eunice Woods, can you please step forward?”

“Eunice?” Wren shouts. “No forking way! I would have never guessed that!”

My twin falls into a fit of laughter and Drew shoots daggers at her, trying her hardest not to laugh and be embarrassed all at once.

“Damn,” Foster says. “I had ten bucks on Amanda. I thought for sure she was screwing with us.”

“I had twenty on something really generic like Anne or Lynn,” Sully broods, pulling his wallet out.

“Pay up,” my dad says, giddy as hell. “Beth guessed it right all along.”

“You guysbeton what her middle name is? You too, Beth?”

“You hustled us?” Wren’s mouth drops open. “Damn, Dad, your girl has some big balls.”

Beth shrugs. “I knew it from her application. Easy way to make some cash.”

The instructor clears his throat and we all realize the entire room is staring at us.

“I just want to make it clear I know none of these people,” my dad tells the crowd. “I’m with them.”

He points to a random table, the occupants looking amongst one another, trying to figure out who invited him.

We all bust out laughing.

When we’ve finally settled down, Drew looks like she could murder us but also like she wants to hug us.

“Right then,” the instructor continues, trying not to appear amused by our antics. “Drew, your fellow classmates nominated you for this award. Your dedication and strength in the kitchen are admirable, but more than that, your perseverance when you’re not here is something we can all aspire to. We know you have a little one at home and your boyfriend recently underwent surgery, and clearly you have a fairly exhausting group of friends to deal with.”

“Tell me about it,” Drew says.

“But no matter the hardships, you haven’t missed a single class and still go out of your way to help your fellow chefs. We just wanted to let you know we see you and appreciate you. We think you’ll run a very tight kitchen one day, and we’re honored to have you.”

We break into applause when she’s handed the award, and I’ve never been more proud of her than I am in this moment.

“That concludes the awards for the evening. Chefs, you have a five-minute break before you’re to report to the kitchen.”

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