Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
She laughs. “Don’t imagine I have untold depths. I’ve just been in therapy forever. I don’t want to think about how much money I’ve spent trying to get my shit worked out. But it took me until now to be ready to change things.”
“Maybe,” says Katja softly.
“You didn’t fly halfway around the world for a maybe. And I am trying.”
“I know you are.” Katja gives her a gentle smile. Then she says, “Ava told me she loved me a couple of weeks ago and then freaked right the fuck out and ran back here to the safety of her hometown and ex-boyfriend.”
“Oh,” I say with much wisdom. “Ouch.”
“She doesn’t need to know all that,” says Ava. “Riley, answer me. Are you going to try again with Denise or what? Because Connor and her might butt heads, but I’m telling you, that family is tight. Do you really want to sit across from her at the weekly dinner with things the way they are now?”
“It’s weekly?”
“Yes.”
“Shit.” I groan. The things a fake girlfriend has to do. “Okay. Yes. What do I do?”
She picks up the pot of chowder and shoves it at me. “I worked so fucking hard on this. You better be worth it.”
It takes me a second to understand. “You’re giving me your soup?”
“Yes. You spent all day yesterday with me making the stock. But the recipe was mostly your idea, and you did the bulk of it yourself. I just gave you a little advice now and then. Wink wink.”
“Are people really going to believe we were hanging out being friendly yesterday?”
“You two are going to make them believe it,” says Katja with a proud smile.
Ava’s face lights up. “We sure as hell are. Now keep up, Riley. We don’t have much time and you need to learn about the contents of this pot so you can answer the judges’ questions.”
Denise looks over the top of her reading glasses at me. Facing off against the Chowder Queen wasn’t on my list of things to do today. But here we are. Her gaze returns to the tablet in her hands. “You and Riley are entering together?”
Ava nods. “Yes.”
“Which would explain why the chowder is in your mother’s pot, I suppose?”
“Riley did most of the hard work herself. I just stuck my nose in now and then. But I think you’re going to be impressed. She shows a lot of promise.”
“We’ll be the judge of that, dear.” Denise sighs. “I can’t say I understand why you would team up with someone when you won all on your own just a few years ago. Your competitive spirit always seemed stronger than that.”
“What can I say,” says Ava, “it was time for a change. This was a great excuse to bond with Riley. Your son has always had great taste in women so it shouldn’t be such a surprise we’ve become friends.”
Nothing from Denise.
But Ava isn’t finished yet. “As for the contents of this pot, I like to think I inspired Riley.”
“She’s my chowder muse,” I confirm.
Denise is not convinced. Not even a little. She sniffs in my general direction before turning back to my partner in soup-making crime. “Very well, Ava.”
Yeah. The woman is not pleased. Not with me taking part in her cook-off. And definitely not with Ava siding with me in any way, shape or form. Her coral-pink lips have settled into a straight, unhappy line. Such severity. Given the plethora of things I’ve been lying about lately, this should be simple. But for some reason, my anxiety is at an all-time high. Never has soup mattered more.
The twelve other entrants have already been assessed and stand waiting to find out the winner—along with our audience consisting of just about everyone in town, apart from Connor. Though his absence might be for the best. I’m not sure if it would be better or worse if he were watching.
Whatever. I can do this. And I never thought I would say this, but I am not about to disappoint Ava.
Pots of chowder line the long table under the carnival tent. And the rich scents of corn, seafood, and cream fill the space. A vivid and varied soundtrack plays in the background. From the folk band covering Joni Mitchell, to the thrilled screams of people on the carnival rides, and one particularly upset small child screaming about dropping their ice cream. But Denise’s focus is absolute. She has me in her sights, and then some.
This is not going to be easy. If only I’d had more time to talk about the recipe with Ava and memorize the ingredients.
“Why don’t you tell us a little about your chowder before we have a taste,” suggests Noor. Thank goodness she’s one of the judges this year. When the head chef of a local restaurant caught a head cold, she was a last-minute addition to the panel and I couldn’t be happier.