Page 26 of The Best Trick

“You are.”

I turned to Odin, wanting to get every detail he gleaned from my sisters table, but right then, my phone buzzed. It was my fellow judges, warning me that I had ten minutes to return to the table.

“Were you out doing the fifty-yard dash or something?” Mary Ann asked me when I arrived, breathless.

“Might as well have been,” I said, smoothing my hair back.

I centered myself and sat down just as the five cheddars were brought out on a platter.

The crowd around our table fell silent as judging officially began. We sniffed and inspected the different cheeses. We smooshed them, evaluating texture. I didn't see the guy who had threatened me anywhere, but there was a pale, buttery-yellow cheddar, one that was paler than the rest, and I found, once we got to the tasting part, that it did have delightful brioche bread, nutmeg, and black chocolate notes. It wasn't as good as the cheese that we ended up awarding a blue ribbon to, but it did win third—mostly because Cal had rated it with near-perfect marks. Had he taken money, or did he just love that cheese? I suspected the former; it was very extreme to have such high marks.

I hated the idea that a cheese competition could be corrupt. Not just because my sisters had cheeses competing out in the world, but because I wanted to know that these competitions were pure and true. Maybe it's ironic, coming from somebody involved in a life of crime. Or maybe being involved in a life of crime makes you appreciate when people follow rules.

At any rate, the cheddar we picked was really amazing and absolutely deserved to win. Mary Ann would be presenting the blue ribbon at the final event.

But what I was really interested in was what happened over at the small-farm sheep gouda table. How were my How had Sunny Sisters’ cheese fared? Would they be awarded best in class?

As soon as I could, I thanked my fellow judges, promising to keep in touch, then worked my way through the crowd to Zeus.

“Where are...”

“We’re saving a place for you, goddess. Come on,” he said, leading me down the length of the football field, past all of the goat cheese tables, and around to the bleachers, making a wide berth around my sisters’ table and the whole sheep judging area, which was definitely more unruly than the goat judging area.

Thor and Odin waved from a spot at the corner of the bleachers. Thor had binoculars. We went up and sat with them.

“Well?” I said to Odin. “Tell all!”

“Your sisters seem great,” he said. “Happy. They tell little stories about the sheep to people. I heard Vanessa tease Kaitlin about a boyfriend.”

“No!’ I made him repeat everything he’d overheard. He’d asked questions about the farm. He’d taken some discreet photos, too. I pressed him for every last detail.

“Someday you’ll ask them these things for yourself,” Zeus said.

I sighed. It was a nice dream. But was it just that?

The award portion started up. The cheeses were announced and awarded one by one with the makers coming up to the table to stand behind their respective rounds of cheese. I kept an iron grip on the binoculars when my sisters’ category came up.

“The blue ribbon for small-farm sheep gouda goes to…” An envelope was brought to the podium—it was just like the Oscars!—“Sunny Sisters sheep gouda!”

I screamed, and my guys hooted and whooped. My grin nearly cracked my face in half as I watched my little sisters file up to stand behind the winners’ table as their round of cheese was set in front of them with a giant blue ribbon affixed to it. I stood and hugged Zeus, and then I hugged Odin and Thor. “They won! They did it!”

We were massively thrilled. It was almost like our win.

I watched them as long as I could. People congratulated them. Their table got mobbed. My sisters wouldn’t stop smiling.

My heart couldn’t have been fuller by the time we drove out of there.

We headed up the coast and celebrated at a little out-of-the-way restaurant that had dim lighting—ideal because I was getting tired of wearing my chipmunk cheek implants, and I definitely didn’t love eating with them in—and then we headed back.

* * *

Our proprietress,Sue, was in front of our Airbnb trimming hedges when we pulled up.

“I do not like this one bit,” Odin mumbled.

“I'm just glad I didn’t pull off my eyebrows yet,” I said, shoving my cheeks back in.

“So nosy,” Thor grumbled. “You know she wants to see what art we bought. She's totally trying to get a scoop on our hot lead.”

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