“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

as if

then, I suddenly

“That’s why you’re trying

That a woman, of all

you

a moment, and for the briefest of

shoulders. It’s so quick

slowly turns around, and there’s that signature smirk

the hollowness behind it

says, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. “As if I’d

someone like…”

ask, placing my hands on my

in his eyes. “Not just a woman. A

my fingers go cold from the

me?” I grit

he states, taking a step toward me. His

aggressive, and I find myself taking a

“A woman attempting to muscle

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

Comments ()

0/255