Page 32 of Culinary Chaos

Hope hated that. But Angelica hadn’t lied when she said that she didn’t bring out the warm and fuzzy feelings very often. Hope waited a good five minutes, listening to Angelica clearly interviewing someone along with two other people. The idea of doing a group interview like that set Hope’s nerves on fire. She wasn’t good at those types of things. Never had been and probably never would be. She could charm people, yes. But when it came to talking about her skills and solving problems, she was less adept at navigating those answers.

She pulled the cloche off her plate and stared at it. It didn’t look right. It didn’t smell right either. Hope used her fork and pushed the food around and then prodded one of the baked tomatoes with her fingers. It was whole, but as soon as she touched it, the thing disintegrated in front of her. That definitely shouldn’t have happened.

Well, it was now or never, wasn’t it?

She took her fork and knife, slicing into another tomato. Then she attempted to scoop it onto her fork before putting it in her mouth. The cringe was unavoidable. The texture was the oddest damn thing she’d ever experienced—somehow grainy and mushy all at the same time. She swallowed immediately if only to get the food out of her mouth and away from her.

Angelica couldn’t eat this.

Hope cut into the chicken, already noticing how dry the meat was. She had no doubt that it’d also be equally unseasoned and disgusting. But she tried it anyway. She stared at Angelica’s stillcovered plate, debating trying everything on that as well. She had no doubt as to what the major part of their conversation was going to be in the next couple of weeks.

The fucking kitchen.

Angelica slowly closed the computer lid, catching Hope’s attention with a long and direct stare. Hope’s stomach twisted. Angelica’s eyes were so dark in this light, the room giving off old Victorian vibes more than a clean brand-new hotel. Then again, that fit with the area of New Orleans that they were in.

“I brought you dinner, but I’m not sure you’re going to want to eat it.”

“That bad?” Angelica asked.

Hope hummed but didn’t say anything else.

“Oh that is bad.” Angelica’s lips twitched slightly, and she stood up, sliding into the chair next to Hope. “Or is it just that you’re used to fancy food.”

“Fancy food?” Hope raised her eyebrows in Angelica’s direction.

Angelica shrugged slightly, pulling the lid off her plate and staring at it. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of gray, but she did pick up her fork. She moved some of the food around. “I think I’ll let you test it out for me.”

Hope chuckled, stabbing her fork into one of the potatoes. “It’s really hard to mess these up.”

“If you say so,” Angelica murmured, setting the fork next to the plate. “I don’t eat potatoes very often.”

“What? Why not?” Hope chewed slowly. The potato was raw in the middle, and the rosemary they’d sprinkled on it hadn’t cooked at all, so it was like eating a pine needle. In fact, it dug into the roof of her mouth, causing her to flinch in surprise.

“They don’t make me feel very good.” Angelica crossed her arms and finally looked around the room. “So the food is less than desirable.”

“We can go somewhere else to eat,” Hope said, pushing the plate toward the center of the table. “I have the keys to your room and mine.”

“Thanks.” Angelica breathed out slowly, almost relaxing if Hope dared to pick a name for what that look was. Though she wasn’t entirely sure. Angelica’s phone buzzed, and she reached for it, checking the message.

“Do you ever stop working?” Hope asked.

Angelica chuckled once. “No.”

“Why on earth not?” Hope snagged the phone and put it onto the table, giving Angelica a direct stare.

Angelica looked like she was about to object, but she stopped herself. The surprise was in her eyes, and that didn’t vanish. Instead, she seemed intrigued by the challenge that Hope had just issued, even if she hadn’t intended it as one.

“Do you actually stop working?” Angelica asked. “When you go out to eat, can you just eat or are you always judging the food that’s on your plate?”

“Hmm, touché.” Hope grinned broadly. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees as she raised her gaze to issue another challenge to Angelica. She wasn’t going to back down on this one. “But maybe that’s why I order the pizza from the chain store. I know exactly what I’m getting and what to expect when it arrives.”

“Why didn’t you do that tonight?” Angelica whispered, canting her head to the side with a definite barely-there smile on her lips.

“This was easier. Or at least I thought it would be.” Hope tossed a dirty look toward the plates still full of food. “Come on.”

“What?” Angelica’s feet planted on the floor, that surprise back in her eyes.

“We need to eat.” Hope stood up and walked toward the door. “Unless you have another interview scheduled…?”