Some Like It Spicy by Robbie Terman

jail.”
    Ashton let out a laugh that bordered on a sob. “You watched the tape.”
    “Yup,” Ty confirmed. “I have a copy in my safety-deposit box with instructions that it be sent to the police in the event of my death by mysterious knife wound.”
    Now she really was laughing. “I’m so sorry about your shoes.”
    He shrugged. “Prada is overrated.”
    Prada? Oh, God, now she really would need that prize money if she ever wanted to pay him back.
    “How would you feel about a nice pair of Dockers? I hear you can’t tell the two apart.”
    “Don’t worry about it.” Ty slipped off the ruined pair. “Who knows, I may start a fashion trend.”
    “There you are.” Sally burst into the Wreck Room, clipboard in hand. “Everyone is waiting for you two. What ha…?” She looked down at the shoes. “Is that puke?” She didn’t let anyone respond before continuing. “We need to get you another pair. I’ll get wardrobe down here.”
    “Don’t bother,” Ty said. “Everyone is anxious to get going. No one even sees my feet. I’ll film in my socks.”
    Sally frowned. “We’ll have to see how it affects your height. It’ll look bad if you’re taller than Claude in one shot and shorter than him in the next.”
    Ty rolled his eyes. “I seriously hope no one is watching closely enough to notice.”
    Sally rushed out of the room, mumbling about annoying celebrities.
    Ty turned back to her. “Are you going to throw up again? Or are you okay?”
    She opened her mouth to tell him she was fine, but different words fell from her lips. “I don’t know.”
    He pulled her to him so quickly, she stumbled. Then he dipped his head near her ear. “You have nothing to worry about,” he whispered before, just as abruptly, letting her go and walking away.
    A grin rose to her lips.

Chapter Six
    Ashton floated into the kitchen, her nerves diminished in a puff of reassurance. Statistically, the chef who won the first challenge went on to win the title. She couldn’t wait to see her father’s face when she became a celebrity chef.
    “Dude, what happened to your shoes?” Duffy snickered to Ty.
    Ashton froze.
    Ty paused before answering. “They gave me blisters.”
    “Blisters?” Duffy muttered, his forehead creased.
    Thank you , Ashton mouthed to Ty. He nodded slightly in return.
    “People!” Sally clapped her hands against her clipboard. “We are behind schedule. Chefs, line up on the markers.”
    Ashton moved over the black tape set between a row of chairs and a table. The contestants who were safe got to move to the chairs, while the bottom chefs had to stand behind the table to see who would be eliminated.
    “You look confident,” Jolene whispered to her as they waited for filming to start. “I’ve got more butterflies in my stomach than a garden in July. I wish I knew your secret.”
    “No secret,” Ashton lied. “I just believe in my dish.”
    “Quiet,” Sally growled before she called action.
    Ashton straightened her back, her arms behind her in a military pose. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see different poses among the chefs, most of them choosing the defensive—arms crossed over the chest—stance.
    “Chefs,” Ty said. “We had some wonderful meals tonight and some disappointments. I know this was your first challenge and nerves may have played a role, but unfortunately, one of you will be eliminated.”
    Ashton expected Sally to call out, “Cut,” but she didn’t. She guessed even Sally couldn’t leave the chefs to agonize while they reshot the same scene over and over.
    “First,” Ty continued, “the good news. Our top three chefs are…”
    Despite herself, Ashton’s chest tightened into a knot so thick a sailor couldn’t undo it.
    “Jolene, Duffy, and Ashton.”
    “ That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Duffy exclaimed as Jolene hugged Ashton. He moved between the women and put an arm around each of their shoulders.
    “Ashton,” Ty started. “Your lobster mac and