Page 19 of Culinary Chaos
“Are these on your new menu?”
“Maybe.” Hope set the plate down. “We’ll see what Antonio comes up with.” She was looking over her shoulder at him again. “I always want to give people a proper chance before I destroy all their hopes and dreams.”
That sent a shiver through Angelica. “Right.”
They couldn’t be more opposite in how they approached things, could they?
Hope flirted.
Angelica bulldozed.
Hope collaborated.
Angelica ordered.
It was only a matter of time before they would know who came out on the winning side.
Chapter
Seven
“Thanks for coming down,” Hope said to Angelica as she slipped in through the door, a camera immediately following her.
No one had warned Hope about the heat. Not just the heat from the kitchen, which was already brutal when everything was in full swing, but the heat from all the camera equipment and all the extra people shoved into the tiny backward kitchen that she felt she could barely move in.
Sweat pooled at the small of her back, and she was fairly certain that if she left this room, she would reek to high heaven. Maybe that was the wrinkle in Angelica’s nose. Hope and Antonio had been working their asses off, a little competition that she’d designed to show him he sucked at cooking and that she was actually right.
Two could play at games, but only one could win.
And Hope needed to make sure that Antonio understood his limits. And quickly, because she only had two more days with him in this kitchen, and if he didn’t figure out that he couldn’t cook worth shit in the next hour, she was going to have to fire him.
Angelica raised her eyebrows at Hope, expecting some sort of explanation.
“Antonio and I did a little test, and we need you to be the judge.” Hope snagged the two plates and set them on the counter in front of Angelica. “So… you get to reap the benefits of our little competition.”
“Benefits?” Angelica asked, flicking her gaze straight to Hope’s. That look wasn’t only surprise—it was filled with something else.
Hope found herself leaning in slightly, lowering her voice, and wishing on all things holy that there wasn’t a damn camera watching their every move. “Yes, lunch for you and a win for me.”
“Well, you’re certainly confident, aren’t you?” Angelica’s lips twitched slightly, but they didn’t move into a smile. “It’s your job to take care of the kitchens, Mrs. Lawrence. I trust you know how to run them.”
“Oh, I do.” Hope slid back slightly. “I just thought that you could be the judge.”
Angelica let out a little breath, her lips slightly parted, and again she was looking down at the plate like she’d just smelled something disgusting. “Run your own damn kitchen.”
Angelica spun on her toes and stalked out.
Hope gripped the edge of the counter, leaning on it heavily. She was lost in the wake of whatever that was. She’d never been so put in her place before, so shoved into a corner with no room to move or make her own way. And yet Angelica had done it in two seconds flat without Hope even seeing it was coming. She was so much better at reading people than that—she knew she was.
“Well then…” Hope straightened her shoulders and stretched out her neck. She needed a new plan of action as quickly as possible, because this was one of five filming days and she’d justwasted a good chunk of time. “We’ll let the servers pick which one is best.”
Missing only a beat or two, Hope set up the backup plan to her little competition. And like the true chef she was, she won. Antonio threw down his towel and stormed out the back door, a quick kick in the proverbial balls for him that Hope wasn’t going to play into. He needed to understand that his skills weren’t up to par.
Hope set up the kitchen to start cooking her new recipes, a short and condensed menu that would be easy for them to learn before they started to add things to it. She’d already planned for that in the long run.
The unsettled anger continued to gurgle inside her, growing stronger and stronger each minute that passed as she ruminated on Angelica’s reaction. They were a team, weren’t they? They were supposed to work together to fix this hotel, not separately. They were co–stars, not just two employees who never talked or did anything together.
The director called cut and the crew started to break apart, and Hope was done. She undid the top three buttons on her chef’s coat, finally letting the cool air touch her skin, but it wasn’t enough. How dare Angelica talk to her like that, as if she was less than. It was so different from the way they had started this hotel fix. They had worked toward figuring out the answers together.
