Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 176

Abby

The judges are sitting in front of me, spoons poised, and I can’t help but hold my breath. Every moment that they taste the soup without a word feels like an eternity. My palms are sweating, and it’s all I can do to not show them that I feel like I’m about to pass out.

Vanessa is the first to break the silence, and her voice is smooth and soft—an instant comfort.

“Abby, this is delightful,” she says, her spoon clinking against the bowl as she sets it down. “The balance of flavors is excellent, and the carrot really shines through. Your hint of thyme really makes the dish.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and a smile spreads across my lips. “Thank you, Vanessa. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Xavier follows, his voice deep and thoughtful. “I must agree. The sour cream and green onion were a nice touch as well. An unexpected flavor combination, but delightful nonetheless.”

Their words empower me, and I can feel the knot in my chest loosening.

But then I look towards Logan, the last to comment, and his brow is slightly furrowed. The room seems to grow colder as he places his spoon down with a long sigh.

“It’s… good,” he starts, and for a moment, hope flickers inside of me, only to be immediately put out like a candle by his next words. “But if I’m being honest, it’s too… safe. Expected, rather.” As he speaks, his eyes meet mine, and there’s that glint again.

I feel a small knot twist in my gut, and it’s all I can do to keep my composure. “I see,” I manage, swallowing. “Was it the flavors, or…?”

He shakes his head, pressing his lips into a thin line. “I can’t quite say. It tasted good, but it’s just… boring.”

Suddenly, Vanessa interjects before I can offer a retort. “Not every dish needs to reinvent the wheel, Logan,” she says. “And it was quite flavorful. The ginger—”

Logan’s lips twitch, and he interrupts her. “Flavorful, perhaps. And you’re correct; not every dish needs to reinvent the wheel. But when it comes to the most important event of the year, one would hope for more than…”

That’s when he pauses, and in a swift gesture, he pushes the bowl away from him on the table, his cold eyes meeting mine. “...‘cozy and comfortable.’”

My heart feels like it’s sinking. It feels as though Logan turned my words against me, turning something that was meaningful to me into a joke. I feel like every female chef ever, who has had her craft diminished into nothing more than frivolity.

Vanessa, sensing the tension, speaks up again. “Well, it was only the first course,” she says. “I’m sure Abby will continue to wow us throughout the evening.”

Xavier chimes in, his voice soothing. “I agree. And if we’re going to critique, let’s make it constructive. Abby, for the next course, we’d like you to make us something out of the box.”

Their words send a shock up my spine. Out of the box? But I already had a meal in mind. I begin scrambling internally for options, for something else I could make or perhaps a twist on what I’ve already got the ingredients for.

As the judges finish their notes, I retreat to the kitchen to consider my options. Karl follows, his hand brushing against mine as we walk away from the table.

“You’re doing great,” he murmurs once we’re out of earshot. “Logan is tough to please, but you’ve got Vanessa and Xavier on your side.”

I let out a shaky laugh. “Feels like I’m on thin ice, though. Logan’s critique was... piercing, to say the least.”

Karl shakes his head, his eyes locking with mine. “Don’t let him get to you. You heard the others. They loved it. You nailed the balance, the flavor, everything.”

“But Logan is right, isn’t he?” I can’t hide the worry that seeps into my voice. “I played it safe. Maybe too safe.”

“Abby, he’s just trying to get under your skin,” Karl murmurs. “Are you gonna let him?”

His words give me pause. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I’m lost in his brown gaze. But then, I realize that he’s right; Logan just wants to throw me off my game. This isn’t the cook-off. There are no fellow contestants switching my spices, no real reason to let one judge’s comments make me doubt everything.

But that doesn’t mean that I can’t go outside the box for the entree. Suddenly, I have an idea, and a grin spreads across my face.

“I’ve got it,” I whisper.

…

“So, Abby, what’s on the menu for the entree?” Vanessa asks, her voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity that helps unwind the nerves that have settled in my stomach.

I glance up, a smile touching my lips. It’s not what I planned for tonight, but I just know it’ll work.

“Stuffed chicken breast with a side of rosemary potatoes and sauteed green beans.”

Logan makes a face. “We asked you for something outside of the box, Abby,” he says, his voice almost a hiss. “And you choose chicken, potatoes, and green beans?”

I nod, ignoring his jabs. “I did.”

Xavier speaks up before Logan can retort and leans in, peering at the herbs I’m laying out on the counter. “Interesting choice. I assume you’ll find a way to wow us, to make this dish a real standout, correct?”

I nod, my hands already deftly prepping the chicken breast. “I will. You’ll see.”

Logan’s expression is unreadable, his eyes following my knife, but says nothing.

Vanessa grins. “Well I, for one, love this dish. I’m excited to see how you make it your own, Abby. A twist on a classic.”

The chicken is now seasoned and ready for the pan, sizzling as it hits the heat. “The surprise is a hint of lion’s mane.”

The judges exchange looks, each as baffled as the rest. “Lion’s mane? The mushroom?” Vanessa asks.

I nod. “Yes. I believe it adds a unique texture and an earthy flavor to an otherwise light dish. Combined with the tang of the lemon juice in the sauce, think of it like…”

“A symphony of flavors,” Xavier says, sounding pleased. I nod, and lift my eyes to meet the judges. Vanessa and Xavier are both on the edges of their seats, while Logan is leaning back, his arms folded across his chest, watching me with the utmost scrutiny.

But I won’t let it get to me. I can’t let it get to me. I’m too determined to make him eat his words.

As the chicken cooks, I turn to the potatoes, their skins crisping to a golden hue. The beans follow, their vibrant green a contrast to the rich browns on the rest of the plate.

“Your timing is impeccable,” Xavier comments, his eyes never leaving the pans in front of me.

“I’ve been told I’m quick with a pan and quick with a retort,” I tease as I flip the chicken breasts in the pan, their earthy aromas rising into the air in a puff of steam. There’s a ripple of laughter from Vanessa and Xavier, and even Logan’s lips twitch upward.

The plates are already warm from where I’ve placed them beneath the warming rack, waiting for the chicken and potatoes. I make sure to plate with precision, the chicken sliced to reveal its hidden heart of lion’s mane and herbs, the potatoes and green beans scooped heartily beside it for a glistening, colorful companionship.

As a finishing touch, I drizzle spoonfuls of warm oil and rosemary over the places. Then, I set the plates down with a flourish.

“Voila.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows lift as she scans the table, then settles her gaze on me. “Abby, where’s your plate?”

A pause hangs in the air, and I feel suddenly confused. “I wasn’t aware I should be joining you.”

She chuckles. “Abby, this is your home—not the cook-off. Won’t you and Ken at least join us for the entree?”

Karl and I exchange glances, both of us taken aback by the sudden invitation.