But they were still doing it. It was terrifying, but they were saying the words. And they were almost done.
“No matter what happens, whether I win or lose, don’t find me after the show. I don’t want to talk to you again until you decide. And I want you to take your time, take this as seriously as I am. So.”
London faltered for just a moment, feeling suddenly dizzy. But they pushed on.
“I’ll see you back in Nashville, Dad. Or I won’t.”
And then they turned and walked away, back to the claustrophobic staging area they were now desperate to get to.
London threw themself in a chair and covered their face with their hands. Which were shaking terribly.
Lizzie did not ask if they were okay. Lizzie did not even look up.
“All right, kids.” Janet popped her head into the small temporary room. “Ten minutes until the judges go on stage. You’ll be called up shortly after that. Prepare yourselves.”
London smoothed their palms on their pants.
They closed their eyes and thought about Brussels sprouts. They thought about barbecue. They thought about sitting on a hard bench in a small quiet courtyard with Dahlia Woodson, drinking from bottles of wine. They knew they had just done the scariest thing they would ever do. Scarier than losing to Lizzie. Scarier than cooking a meal in front of three judges that they’d already cooked for so many times before.
And they were calm.
London and Lizzie were called to the edge of the set.
Maritza looked over from behind her camera and winked. The PAs gave a nod.
The studio lights always seemed bright, but when London walked to their station for their last cook on the set of Chef’s Special, they were more blinding than ever before. When London glanced behind them at the audience, all they saw was darkness punctuated by bright stars.
But even though they couldn’t see her, London knew Dahlia was there. Along with their sisters and a mother who loved them fiercely. And that was all that mattered.
“Welcome, one and all, to the Final Face-Off of season eight.”
Sai Patel held his arms wide with a smile of triumph, inviting the audience to raucous applause.
Tanner Tavish stood next to him, his face set in a conceited, serious stare.
Audra Carnegie looked a treat.
It was time.
Dahlia gripped Barbara’s hand.
She had been thrown when she walked onto set this morning. It looked so different.
When she’d seen Barbara, it was the perfect distraction from the nerves pummeling her stomach.
“Babs,” she had said, “I have so much to tell you.”
Dahlia sat sandwiched between her and Cath now, and it was the funniest, most perfect sandwich. It gave Dahlia the strength she needed to get through this.
She could tell from the moment she saw London at their station that they felt good. That they weren’t too nervous. Their face only had that steady, focused look instead.
Well, fine, Parker, she had thought. Guess I’ll just have to swallow down enough nerves for the both of us then.
It was taking everything in her to not tap her feet against the floor, to not crush Barbara’s fragile grandma bones, to not grab Cath’s hand too, to not bite straight through her bottom lip.
They were only on the fucking appetizers.
The judging was excruciating. Had those three fools ever taken longer to contemplate two baby bird bites of food?
And then, when they finally stopped being ding-dongs and made a pronouncement, the judges liked Lizzie’s appetizer more.
Dahlia’s head flopped into her hands.
Holy hell.
She wasn’t going to make it.
Barbara rubbed her back and made soothing noises.
“It’s cool, Dahls,” Cath said. “London will kill the main course. And you know there’s no way Lizzie will beat them on dessert.”
“Cath,” Dahlia said, looking at her. “Lizzie wants to open a fucking bakery.”
“Yeah,” Cath said calmly. “And there are a ton of mediocre bakeries. London’s better.”
Dahlia sat back up. Nodded. “You’re right.”
“I always am, Dahls,” Cath said.
Dahlia’s nerves started to settle slightly during the main course, mainly just because it took a long time, and her nervous system probably would have imploded if she hadn’t calmed down a smidge.
Plus, the more she watched London cooking, the more turned on she got. So there was also that. She hoped it wasn’t too obvious, the fact that all of the blood in her body was rushing toward specific places. It felt like it had been ten years since she’d last seen them. Damn, it was hot in here with these lights. She was certain they had installed extra lights today.