“I get that. My apartment in Chicago isn’t anything special. It certainly doesn’t feel likehomehome.” Ava’s heart pinched. “Of course, I’m hoping to change that when I move.”
Conversation ceased as Zach cooked the mushroom mix on the stove, then they both worked together to fill tiny dough cups with the filling before topping them with cheese and popping the tarts into the oven.
“We should have time to wipe everything down while we wait.” Ava reached for the bucket of soapy water Zach had stashed under the side table.
“You know I always love a clean kitchen,” he said.
The timer on Zach’s phone chimed. He pulled the pan of mushroom appetizers out of the tiny oven at the back of their station.
“Audrey always finished this dish with just a dash of Himalayan salt. She said it was love.” Zach sprinkled a small amount of pink salt across the tops of the tarts. “I’ve tried making it without that final step, and it’s never the same.”
Ava tried a quick bite. They only had minutes before the round completed. “Zach, you might not be able to share your feelings with words, but you put your heart into everything you cook.”
“Plate up, sous chef.” Zach’s growl made a grin spread across her face.
Their appetizer was met with oohs and aahs from the judges.
“You’ll be moving on to the next round tomorrow morning,” Anne Green said. She clapped her hands lightly before heading to the next cooking station.
Ava squealed. Zach picked her up and spun her in a circle, laughing.
He set her down. His gaze drew her in, a hint of gold ringing Zach’s pupils.
She swallowed hard, then put her hand on his chest and pushed away from him. “I need to talk to you about something.”
Zach’s brow crinkled, but his eyes still danced. “Don’t you know how ominous it sounds when someone says ‘I need to talk to you’?”
She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face despite the pounding of her heart. “Sorry. But I do need to talk to you. Hopefully, somewhere more private?” She gestured at the crowds still swarming the tent.
“Gazebo?” He jutted his chin in the direction of the structure.
“Gazebo.”
They were quiet as they walked across the spongy grass. With every step the damp grass released the scent of spring—loamy, fresh, green. Ava’s hand brushed Zach’s, but she tucked it into her pocket. It was better if he heard her out before they held hands.
Thankfully, the crowd at Flavor Fest hadn’t drifted over to this area of the hotel grounds. The gazebo waited for them without other people around.
The air cooled by a few degrees as they entered the shade of the wooden structure. A few steps in, Ava turned to face Zach.
“I think we need to talk about the review in Ava Harper Chows Down.”
Zach’s eyes clouded. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
Ava rubbed her clammy hands on the front of her jeans. “I just wanted to explain?—”
“Ava, I’m having a hard enough time putting the whole thing behind me without you dredging it back up again. Can’t we just leave it?”
“I don’t think I can spend any more time with you until we hash it out. Plus, I think you’ll appreciate what I have to say.”
“Fine.”
Zach’s grunt left her unconvinced, but she forged on. “Do you want to sit down?” They sat, Zach’s back ramrod straight. Ava fought the urge to put her hand on his and massage the tension away.
She cleared her throat. “When I worked at theSeattle Courier, it was my first real column out of journalism school. A column with my own byline. I couldn’t believe I’d landed the position. It was a way to stay connected to the food scene without being in a kitchen myself.”
“So, you thought you’d score off me?” The hurt in his voice sent a spear through her. “Sorry. Still working on the forgiveness thing.”
“No. Just listen to me.” Ava put out her hand. “I went to your restaurant and ate close to the best meal of my life. I thought one of your waiters would have to roll me out, I ate so much that night.”
