Dahlia smiled back so fast and so hard that her cheeks hurt.
And then Julie smacked London on the back of the head. London turned to her, mouth moving quick, and Dahlia saw Jackie and Sara’s shoulders shaking with laughter.
Janet ran over and dragged London away, probably for a solo interview. Dahlia sat back in her chair, a hand on her chest, and attempted to slow her pulse. She tried to reassemble her face into a more normal expression and found she could not.
Beside her, Cath chuckled. Barbara cleared her throat.
Dahlia glanced between them.
“Shut up.”
Cath laughed harder. Barbara simply reached over and squeezed her hand.
After what seemed an eternity, the finalists and the judges returned. London and Lizzie were called to the Golden Circle.
Sai prattled on for a while about what a fantastic season it had been, what an amazing finale, how close it was, blah blah blah. Dahlia squeezed her knees together. She had let go of Barbara’s hand, finally, to grip the corners of her chair.
When Audra Carnegie said it, Dahlia didn’t feel surprise, just relief that this entire thing was over now. She could breathe. God, she really had to pee, but she’d been too nervous to move for the last three hours.
Julie jumped out of her seat and threw a clenched fist in the air, like she’d just made a three-pointer.
Their dad stood and clapped.
And then Lizzie turned and stomped off the set.
Barbara gasped. “That bitch,” she breathed.
Dahlia couldn’t even take this in, how unprecedented and awful it was, because all she could see was London. London, smiling, shaking the judges’ hands. London, covered in glitter falling from the ceiling. Oh dear. London hated glitter.
London, turning toward the audience as their family ran to them. London, looking over the heads of Julie, Jackie, Sara, even as they hugged them. London, looking for her.
Barbara nudged her. “You’re really not going to go down there?”
“Yeah, Dahls,” Cath said. “Give the people what they want.”
Dahlia laughed, just a little, through her tears. Oh. She hadn’t realized she was crying.
“No,” she said. “This should just be for them.” She sniffled, wiped her eyes. And then she gave Cath and Barbara a hug in turn.
“I have to go,” she said. “Thank you both for being you.”
And Dahlia hustled down the risers, away from the blinding lights.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Julie took the flute of champagne out of London’s hands.
“But that’s only my second one!” they protested. Surely, winningChef’s Specialwarranted more than one and a half flutes of champagne.
Rolling her eyes, Julie dragged London out of the crowded bar. She didn’t let go until they reached the parking lot.
London frowned. “Where are we going?” They gasped. “Julie, do you haveweed?” They hadn’t sneaked away from a family gathering to smoke together since college.
“No, London, I do not have weed. God, how much champagne did you actually have?”
“Not enough. It’s just the endorphins. From, you know, winningChef’s Special.”
“Dear lord.” Julie stopped in front of the Nissan. “You are going to be positively insufferable now, aren’t you?”
