Cooking for the CEO: A Sweet Rom Com (Too Busy for Love Book 2) by Leah Busboom

Author:Leah Busboom [Busboom, Leah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LBRB Consulting LLC
Published: 2022-12-06T16:00:00+00:00

Eighteen - Chili Cookoff 1

Ash

I’m dreading telling Teddy my news because she’s going to freak out. We’re meeting at the cookoff venue this fine Friday afternoon—an arena once used by a professional basketball team that was abandoned when they moved to a swankier stadium. Rather than have the giant eyesore sit empty, the city turned it into an events arena. They’ve held rodeos, monster truck jams, a rock concert, and now this cookoff here.

As soon as I walk in, I see that they’ve converted the interior to a more intimate space. Booths are set up on the main arena floor, with the higher levels of the stadium blocked off. Teddy’s talking to someone who appears to be associated with the cookoff. She hasn’t noticed me yet, so I study her quietly.

Although she’s wearing casual blue jeans and a button-down shirt, Teddy looks classy and well put together. She gestures with her hands as she talks, her ponytail swinging back and forth. My khakis and T-shirt suddenly make me feel underdressed.

“You’re hurt!” she shrieks when I stroll closer, my left arm in a sling. An unfortunate accident yesterday at the food truck resulted in a sprained wrist that I’m not supposed to use under any circumstances.

She rushes over to me, concern written on her pretty face. “Did you break your arm?” she says while gently fingering my sling. My heart soars at her noticeable concern, but she obviously hasn’t put two and two together yet. “Does it hurt?”

“Wrist sprain,” I say, nodding towards my sling. “It doesn’t hurt as much as it did yesterday.” The throbbing has subsided after self-medicating with a couple doses of Aleve.

“We should pull out of the competition!” she says, leading me over to the booth that we’ve been assigned, identical to all the others. It’s basically a cooktop and counter—fairly rudimentary, but sufficient.

“No way! I’m a one-armed chef on a mission.”

Her eyes look like they’re going to pop out of her head. She puts her hand up to her mouth and stares at me for several seconds. “Does this mean I’m doing all the cooking?” she whispers.

“Yes—”

She starts pacing around inside our booth, fanning her face and breathing like she’s run a hundred-meter sprint. “Ooh, this is not good.” Big sigh. “Ooh, this is not good.” Bigger sigh. “Ooh, this is not good.” I’m surprised she’s not hyperventilating.

“Calm down. I’ll be right here,” I say, placing my right hand on her shoulder, stopping her frantic pacing, and trying to settle her down. “Take some deep breaths,” I suggest, worried that she’s going to pass out.

“Ash, I don’t think I can do this,” she says, turning worried eyes towards me. “This is going to be a disaster. Why did I let Georgina talk me into this in the first place?”

She stops pacing but now looks like she’s on the verge of tears. She pinches her nose and counts to ten, still muttering about an impending disaster.

“Hey, where’s Theodora the fierce competitor I saw at the putt-putt course?” I ask, tipping her chin up so I can gaze into her eyes.

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