“Wait, so . . . so every major food blogger in Maui is going to be dining here tonight?” I stammer.
Ted nods, an easy smile on his face.
That means every major food blogger is going to see Callum and me together, which will unleash a wave of gossip about us. If they see us cooking side by side after only ever seeing us fight before, they’re going to jump to some pretty dramatic conclusions—and will certainly post about it online. It might lead to an uptick in business like before, but if the organizers of the Maui Food Festival catch wind of this—which they probably will if someone here publicizes it—they will likely assume we’re working together and disqualify us from the contest prize. No way in hell will I let that happen.
I hold up a hand to Ted. “One sec.”
I yank Callum’s arm, pulling him back into the hallway outside of the kitchen. The door swings shut, giving Callum and me a semblance of privacy.
I smack his arm, but it barely registers as a pat against his solid mass. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me we’d be cooking dinner for every foodie with an Instagram account in Maui?”
Callum holds his hands up. “I didn’t know. Finn didn’t mention it this morning when he told me about it. You were there, remember?”
We pause and take twin deep breaths. It’s only marginally soothing.
I wring my hands. “Remember how they recorded our arguments and posted them online? They’ll be chomping at the bit to upload a photo of us together tonight just so they can cook up some drama and get more hits to their blogs.”
“So?”
“Callum, seriously?”
My voice echoes through the hall, capturing the attention of a resort employee walking on the opposite side. Both Callum and I mutter sorry at the same time.
“If the organizers of the Maui Food Festival find out about us serving together, they could see that as fraternizing and disqualify us from the festival. I need a fair shot at that money, Callum. So does my mom. Don’t tell me you and Finn wouldn’t want a proper shot at it too.”
He blinks for a second before refocusing on me. “I understand. I want that too.”
“Then we can’t let this get out. We can’t let anyone see us together.”
He shakes his head, the muscles of his jaw pressing against the lightly stubbled skin. “Fine.”
Hot air fills the space between us. We’re both fire-breathing dragons again.
“Now how do we fix this? How do we make sure this doesn’t get out and that no one sees us?”
Leaning his head back, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. When he opens his eyes, there’s renewed focus in his stare.
“I’ll explain the situation to Ted.”
I shoot wide eyes at him.
Callum frowns. “I’m not going to tell him our personal stuff. God, Nikki. What kind of person do you think I am?”
I look away, fixating on a nearby plant before Callum says my name in that low growl I die for. I turn back to him.
He clears his throat. “I’ll tell Ted that things need to remain quiet because of the upcoming festival. I’ll tell him that we’re going to stay in that kitchen the entire night and that no one is allowed in other than staff.”
The invisible fist squeezing my chest loosens. “Perfect. Thank you.”
He grabs my hand, and that fist disappears completely. The warmth I felt when I woke up next to Callum in his bed resurfaces.
“It’s going to be fine, Nikki. Promise.”
I turn around and head back for the kitchen. “I hope so.”
* * *
• • •
I finish plating the final deconstructed lumpia on a small plate, then smile up at the server. “They’re ready.”
I eye the plates I’ve assembled. Each plate boasts a crispy fried wrapper at the bottom, then a generous tablespoon of flavorful ground pork sautéed with minced carrots, cabbage, and water chestnuts. It repeats for three layers, a sprig of cilantro topping each one.
I say thank you to the servers when they swipe the plates from the kitchen and file out to the dining room.
Callum flashes a thumbs-up from the stove. “Excellent job.”
A breath lodges in my throat. This is the first time I’ve had the chance to look at him longer than a few seconds since prepping and cooking began. The awkwardness of last night and this morning feels a million miles away. We make a surprisingly good cooking duo.