Some Like It Spicy by Robbie Terman Page B

Her ever-present frown now included an eye squint. “Instead of greasy cod, you have scallops. And instead of a low-class French fry, I used a versatile, yet underused, sweet potato.”
    “Low class,” Duffy muttered beside Ashton. “She’s never tasted my fries.”
    “Unfortunately,” Ty said, “one of you is going home tonight. The judges have made their decision.”
    Ashton’s breath caught, which was ridiculous. She was safe, so what did it matter who went home? But she couldn’t help but wish someone nice like Elena or Anthony got a second chance and Morgan was sent packing.
    Ty paced dramatically in front of the table, a small metal cover in his hand. Suddenly, he stepped forward and stopped. Raising his hand, he placed the cover over Elena’s candle, extinguishing the flame.
    “Elena,” he said. “You can’t take the heat. Get out of the kitchen.”
    Elena burst into gut-wrenching tears as the cameras cut.
    Ashton moved to comfort her, but to her surprise, Ty beat her to it. She watched as he put his arms around Elena and whispered to the sobbing woman. After a few minutes, Elena’s tears dried, and Ty stepped back. “Good luck,” he said to her.
    “Come on.” Sally grabbed Elena’s arm. “We need to get shots of you leaving the building.”
    As she yanked Elena across the set, Sally yelled over her shoulder. “No one leave. We have individual interviews next.”
    There was a collective moan throughout the kitchen.
    As the others gathered around Jolene to congratulate her, Ashton noticed Ty heading toward his office.
    Her feet carried her in his direction, even as her head screamed to stay away.
    …
    Ty flopped in his chair, dropped his head back, and closed his eyes. He’d hoped to wrap up early today, but Sally had already dashed that dream when she told him they’d be filming promo shots after the interviews. He had to call Scott and let him know he wouldn’t be making bowling tonight.
    Just as he closed his eyes for a catnap, his office door swung open. He lifted an eyelid to see Ashton standing in the doorway. Considering the glare combined with a hands-on-hips stance, she wasn’t happy. At least she wasn’t carrying a knife.
    “You told me I won,” she accused. “Was that just to humiliate me? To get a good shot for the camera?”
    He rose to his feet and walked to her. “I never said you won. I said you had nothing to worry about. And you didn’t. You made it to the next round.”
    Her shoulders dropped, as if the bravado that had brought her to his office had deflated. “The way you said it, I thought…”
    “I’m sorry you misunderstood. I thought I was helping. I shouldn’t have even said anything, but you looked like you were going to throw up again. I didn’t want to end up without socks, either.”
    Her cheeks flamed. “I didn’t throw up because of nerves. And I said I was sorry about your shoes. I’ll buy you another pair.”
    “I don’t care about the shoes. You need to learn how to handle criticism. You’re a chef. Having your food critiqued is part of it.”
    “I know.” She sagged against the wall of his office. “My father taught me all about being judged.”
    “Then why are you so upset?”
    “Was Jolene’s dish really better than mine?”
    “You won’t let this go, will you?” he growled.
    “I need to know why I lost.”
    Ty threw up his hands. “Jolene’s dish was better, and I can’t pick you as the winner just because I like you!”
    His chest pounded brutally at the unexpected words that had flown out of his mouth.
    Ashton’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened as if to speak, and then shut again. She licked her lips. “Ty…”
    “Ashton.” Her name came out as a whisper. He stepped closer, his libido overriding his brain. He knew this was wrong, knew he couldn’t be involved with her. Nothing could happen. It could screw up both their careers and probably send him to court. But he couldn’t stop his hands from reaching for