Abby

It’s been raining cats and dogs all morning, but I’m too excited to care. All I can

think about is the anticipation buzzing in my chest as I make my way up the

walkway to the upscale studio where the interviews for the cook-off are being

held.

“Hello,” I say from under my umbrella to a security guard leaning against a post,

looking bored. “Is this the right entrance for the interviews?”

“Yup,” he says, nodding, and gestures to a set of double doors behind him.

“Head in there, take a left, and follow the hallway to the end.”

“Thank you.”

Enter title…

As I step through the doors, my heart rises into my throat. It’s all I can do to

swallow it and force my feet to carry me forward.

I’ve never been on television before. This is going to be both exciting and

and probably more terrifying than the former.

feel prepared. I’ve spent

ready to go. All that’s left now

with, and then

The cook-off.

already almost here. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ll

I’ll be competing in front of

prepared for that as I am for this

really, really

same time, aside from the interview and

forming in my stomach—this time,

leaving after tomorrow, only returning in a

and then leaving again.

in a weird way, I took his presence for granted. I feel a

All this time, he’s been

I have so much to show

time? I hope it’s been more than that

knowing.

reality. Crisp lighting, a

the air as I

marble floor—everything about it screams

and directed

a beauty salon, complete with

three other

him, an older-looking man who doesn’t

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