Abby

The moment Mr. Thompson utters the words, the whole world seems to stop. I'm still sitting at my desk in my cluttered little office, but I feel as though I've been launched into outer space; it's like that feeling in a dream when you suddenly fall from an impossible height, only to wake up just before you hit the ground.

"Are you... are you serious?” I manage, gripping the edge of my desk to steady myself.

His smile is as reassuring as ever. “Of course, I am, Abby. You think I would joke about something like this?”

It's hard to breathe. After everything, as though some sort of unseen force suddenly decided to make things right, they want me to cater the Alpha party. Me. Abby. The girl who lost the cook-off miserably on live television. The girl who was sabotaged by a male chef.

“Listen,” Mr. Thompson says, “Vanessa Greene asked to give you another chance. And after what happened... You deserve it.”

My mind feels blown again. Vanessa Greene? As in, my biggest idol, Vanessa Greene? All this time, I thought she looked down on me after the cook-off... And yet she was the one who advocated for me to have another chance?

“I... Mr. Thompson, I don’t know what to say,” I stammer, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Say you'll do it, Abby. Say you'll prepare a meal that'll knock their socks off,” he says, his eyes twinkling with encouragement.

“But what if... what if my food still isn't good enough?” The words tumble out before I can stop them, and my voice quivers slightly, betraying the storm of emotions roiling inside of me. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Mr. Thompson's expression softens, and he places a hand on my shoulder, grounding me in this moment. “Abby, I've always believed in you. Your food has that special something—you've got the talent. Don't let one setback make you doubt yourself.”

I take a deep breath. His faith in me is a comfort. “Okay,” I say with a nod. “I'll do it.”

Mr. Thompson grins. “That's what I wanted to hear. Now, listen—they want you to prepare the meals in front of them. In your kitchen.”

My eyes widen. “Here? In the restaurant?”

He nods. “Yes. I assume that won't be a problem for you...?"

My restaurant kitchen; the place I haven't set foot in for the past two weeks. Just the thought of going in there makes me sick, but if it means catering the Alpha party, if it means proving Daniel and all of the other men who doubted me wrong, then it looks like I have no choice.

“Okay,” I murmur. “My kitchen. I can do that.”

Mr. Thompson's grin widens. “That's the spirit! We'll set everything up for this coming Saturday. It'll be a private meal, just you and the judges. You show them what you're capable of, and that party is yours to cater.”

Saturday. It feels both like an eternity away and as if it's looming over me, ready to pounce at any moment.

“Thank you, Mr. Thompson. For believing in me, for giving me this chance,” I say, my voice thick with emotions I can't quite give a name to.

He stands. “You've earned it, Abby. And remember, it's Vanessa herself who insisted. After she learned about the sabotage, she wouldn't rest until you were given a fair shot. She's tough, but she respects talent and honesty,” he says, offering a nod of approval that makes something inside of me feel just a little bit lighter.

I can't believe it. I'm about to be given a chance to redeem myself, to prove that the disaster wasn't my fault, to show everyone what I'm really made of. The thought sends a mix of dread and determination coursing through me.

Mr. Thompson leaves then, and I'm alone with my whirling thoughts. My office somehow feels more stuffy now, and I stand abruptly, grabbing my bag. I have to head home. I need to think. I need to breathe.

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