“I know my way around a kitchen better than you ever will,” I retort, although the

words feel hollow even as I spit them out.

“Abby, Abby, Abby,” he tuts, pushing off from the counter to take another step

closer. “You can barely navigate your way out of a paper bag. This competition?

It’s not for the weak. It’s not for the passionless. And it’s definitely not for

someone who can’t tell nutmeg from cardamom.”

His words are like a slap to the face, a reminder of the humiliation on stage. Of

Logan’s disappointment. Of Vanessa’s confused expression. Of the tiramisu that

now represents my biggest failure, all on live television.

Enter title…

Logan turns to leave, his posture as casual as ever as he saunters over toward

door, as if

suddenly have an

scared,” I blurt out. “That’s why you’re trying

outshine you. That a woman,

competition. And you can’t stand

for a moment, and for the briefest of

his shoulders. It’s so quick that I almost miss it,

and there’s that signature

the hollowness

coffee cup to his lips. “As if I’d ever be

someone like…”

what?” I ask, placing my hands on

flash in his

of my fingers go cold from the sudden shock of

me?” I grit out

he states, taking a step toward

aggressive, and I find myself taking a

woman attempting to muscle her

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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