right?”
There’s another silence. Then Kenny calls “cut,” and the crew moves to establish another set-up.
Nadia’s staring at me, lips curled, and nose wrinkled like she smelled a rotten egg. “Great comeback, Stephen…”
With a dismissive wave of her hand, she leaves the kitchen.
Chase pops over and hands me a water bottle.
“Hey,” he whispers, “you OK?”
“I guess I’m a little off.”
“Just a little, huh?”
He glances momentarily at Cynthia, then back at me, a questioning look in his eyes. “Easy there, Country Mouse,” I tell him. He shrugs and moves away.
Cynthia continues to cook, prepping the next meal for Nadia and me to try. As I watch her work, I realize this little boundary we’ve set up is so artificial. So stupid. What’s the difference between waiting for the show to wrap to be honest about what’s happening between us, and just diving in right now?
I put down the bottle of water to open my mouth and tell her exactly that. But then, I think, don’t interrupt her while she’s cooking. And then, don’t chicken out. Just do it.
But a PA is calling out that they need me for lighting. Foiled again.
Just as I’m turning to go, Cynthia looks up. When I catch her eye though, she throws her attention back to her cooking. Silently berating myself, I head out into the dining room and take my place at the table alongside Nadia.
A few minutes later, the cameras are rolling, and Cynthia presents Nadia and I with her latest dish. I’m still having a hard time focusing because I’m busy mentally formulating the exact words I can use to convince Cynthia we need to pursue this thing between us.
My brain has finally hit on something that blends a smidge of charm with a dash of maturity and a pinch of wit when I suddenly hear Nadia make a sound of disgust.
I glance over in time to see her spit out the bite of food she’s just taken. Cynthia’s eyes go wide.
Shit. What’s going on?
I quickly dig my fork into what I think is a Moroccan-inspired dish. Oh, man, I really have not been paying attention today! But, before I can take a bite, Nadia lays into Cynthia.
“Well, like I warned you, it tastes burnt,” she begins.
I take a bite. No, it doesn’t –
“And I guess now is the time to tell you that you never added the spice.”
Now Cynthia looks completely lost. “Yes, I did.”
“Um, no, ya didn’t, doll. I was there. I watched you. You saw, right, Stephen?”
Nadia looks at me. So does Cynthia. Both hoping I’ll corroborate their story, except I can’t, for the life of me, remember anything Cynthia added to the dish. I was so focused on her, I wasn’t paying attention to the cooking.
I hurriedly take a bite. “Um… tastes good to me…” I say half-heartedly. I mean, it does. It tastes great. But there’s no way I can be one hundred percent sure Cynthia didn’t miss a step.
“I’m – I’m positive everything is in there,” Cynthia insists. “Let me try –”
She reaches out with a fork, but Nadia pulls the plate out of reach. “Because we’re going to trust you to admit your food tastes like poop.”
She gives a phony laugh. “I watched you the whole time, hun. I didn’t want to say anything because I was hoping you’d realize your mistake. But, alas…”
Nadia dips her fork into the food, letting it fall sadly off and back on the plate. She gives one of her bullshit pouts and says straight into camera, “Guess it’s missing the sort of details that lead to rats storming the palace!”
Cynthia’s eyes burrow into mine, begging me to step in. I have to say something. Anything. It’s now or never –
“Cut!” Kenny calls out.
Lights go off. Cameras go down. Cynthia is left standing there like a kid at recess unpicked for the kickball team.
Once again, before I can say anything to Cynthia, Nadia has sidled her chair right next to mine. She leans into me. “Things are getting worse ‘round here, don’t ya think?”
Over Nadia’s head, I see Cynthia burn with a raging fire. She turns on her heel and vanishes into the kitchen.
I try to put some space between Nadia and me as I say, “Why were you gaslighting her?”
“Who says I was? Is it my fault she messed the dish up?”
“She didn’t though.”
Nadia shrugs.
“This program is about saving restaurants, Nadia.”
“Only if they’re worth saving, hun. Get your head in the game, huh?”
Nadia digs a finger into the food in front