Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Gabe woke up Saturday morning with a throbbing headache and a lot of regrets, not just for the amount he'd had to drink the night before, but because he hadn't made good on his promise to see Madison after the competition was over. He hadn't even texted her because his phone had died halfway through the night, and by the time he got back to Ocean Shores, her lights were out. Hopefully, he could make things right with her today. He wanted to talk to her more than he wanted to do anything else.

After showering and dressing, he left the apartment and went to see her. He knocked, hoping she was home. It was ten o'clock in the morning, so he didn't think she'd be at the restaurant yet, but with her parents and her boss coming to the restaurant tonight, she could be doing any number of things.

Fortunately, a moment later, she opened the door. She was in shorts and a T-shirt, her hair in a messy ponytail. She had no makeup on and had never looked more beautiful. There was a purity about her, an authenticity that was more than a little attractive.

"Hi," he said, a million other thoughts running through his mind, but that was all that came out. "Can I come in?"

She gave him a somewhat wary smile. "Sure. How was your night?"

"It was long," he said as he stepped into her apartment. "I was going to text you, but my phone died."

She gave a nod. "It doesn't matter."

"It does. I'm sorry. I wanted to see you last night. I wanted to celebrate with you, but when I got back, your lights were out."

"I hung out by the pool for a while, but I was so tired, I had to go to bed early. Did you see the champagne and balloons they got for us?"

"I did. It was very thoughtful." He drew in a breath, hating the cool politeness between them. "Could you just tell me I'm an asshole for bailing on you after the competition, for not texting you last night, and for not keeping my promise to see you later? Tell me you're pissed at me. But don't tell me it was unforgiveable."

"You told me not to put words in your mouth. Don't do the same to me," she said sharply.

"You're right. I just feel like we're standing in a block of ice, and I want to crack it. I want to get back to where we were."

"I'm not as angry as you seem to think I am," she said. "I was disappointed we didn't get to celebrate, but you had an opportunity to meet with people who could help your career. I couldn't blame you for that. I would have done the same."

"Then why does it feel like you're distant?"

She let out a breath. "I'm not trying to be distant, just realistic. It's probably better we didn't spend the night together, because tomorrow we're going to be trying to beat each other. You want to win, and you need to win, and I feel the same way. One of us will be disappointed. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to hurt me. But it's inevitable."

"We can't make it personal, Madison. We're not trying to beat each other. We're just trying to do our best and whatever happens, happens."

"I know we'll both try to keep it professional, but I'm not sure we'll succeed. Anyway, tell me what happened with your meeting last night. It must have gone well."

"It started out with drinks with Georgia and her partner, Brian Cobbs. But then two other executives from the Culinary Network invited us to dinner, and we went to Rosea. That took forever."

"Are you going to do a guest spot on Georgia's show?"

"Maybe. But it turns out the other executives also really liked my story, and they think I could do my own show."

Her brows shot up in surprise. "That's amazing. Your own show on the Culinary Network? That's great, Gabe."

"It's exciting, but it would involve moving to LA, and I'm not sure I want to do that."

"But you'd be on television, and you'd be cooking your food, and people would know you."

"I'd be cooking my food for television. No one would be eating it except people in the audience, or maybe some guests. I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his head beginning to ache again. "Being on TV hasn't been my dream. I want to cook for people in my own restaurant, not on a television set."

"Think of it as a step toward that. If you get notoriety from a show, you're going to find an investor really quick."

He nodded. "So, you think it's a good idea?"

She hesitated. "I do. I know it would be difficult for you to leave your family."

"I love my life here."

"You might love your life even better in LA. It's a fantastic opportunity. I'm sure you'll be paid well, too."

"There are a lot of details to be worked out. They gave me the general pitch, but there will need to be more meetings before anything happens." He paused. "You're partly responsible for their interest. You told me to tell my story on the plate."

"It was still your story and your food," she said, dismissing his comment.

"But I was stuck. As soon as Francine talked about plating, all I could see in my mind was a blank white plate with no ideas on it."

"It was the first time I saw fear in your eyes," she said with a nod. "But you conquered it. You won."

"I think you won, Madison, and I came in second."

"I'm not sure it mattered what order they called our names in. Your dish looked great, and everyone said it tasted incredible. You deserve to be in the finals."

"As do you. Without a speck of help from me. You created a sophisticated and harmonious plate filled with the richness of the sea and the bounty of the land."

"I should have said it that way," she said with a smile. "I don't even remember how I explained it, but it wasn't that pretty."

"Your plate of food spoke for itself."

"It was nice to put out something I really liked. If I lost with that dish, I was okay with it."

"That's the right way to think."

She shook her head. "My father would say that's the worst way to think, that you can never have doubts in your head. You have to go into whatever you're doing with absolute belief you're the best."

"Well, after seeing your father's text yesterday, I don't think much of his wisdom."

"He's a very successful man."

"Maybe in his field, but that's not your field, and you're not him. If you had lost yesterday, it wouldn't make you any less of a chef today."

"No, but it would have made dinner tonight a lot more uncomfortable. I'm dreading their arrival. And Larry wants to meet beforehand to talk about the restaurant and some bad review he read. I don't know if it's the one from Felicity that I saw or another."

"He's not going to shut things down with you moving on to the finals. You're on a roll. You're getting good press. You should be confident going into dinner service tonight."

"I want to be, but I have to admit that since I opened the restaurant, I've learned a truth I thought I knew but really didn't."

"What truth is that?"

"That having my own restaurant would give me freedom, but that doesn't happen when you have an investor. Larry has a big say in what's on the menu, the pricing, and the décor. Since it's his money on the line, I can't overrule him."

"You can if you believe what you're doing will make his investment stronger. He's not the chef; you are. You need to remember that."

"You're right. Anyway, I need to take a shower and get on with the day. Sorry I can't spend more time with you."

"I understand. I missed my chance last night."

"You did. I had some very exciting things planned for you."

He was happy to see the teasing light back in her eyes. "Damn. Now I really feel bad about bailing on you."

"You should."

"Can I get a raincheck?"

"We'll see. After tomorrow, we may be going in very different directions."

She was right, but he didn't like her answer. And he liked the idea of never being with her again even less.