by Ward, Alice
“I think you’re overreacting,” I murmured. “Shep is friendly with everyone.”
I knew that was at least partly true, but it did seem like he’d picked me as his favorite. I wanted to tell Elle what Aiden had told me — that Shep was a womanizer and possibly a drunk — but the resentment in her tone made me leery about trusting her.
I wasn’t about to get into an argument, and I certainly didn’t feel I needed to defend myself, so I climbed into my bed to let sleep steal me away.
*
The week was coming to a close and the competition getting even stiffer. I had taken my turn at sowing the fields, harvesting vegetables, and even cleaning out the pig pens, so today I knew it was my turn at the final task… harvesting a fresh chicken.
Elle didn’t cause me any more grief after that first night I spent with Aiden. Instead, she was chumming up to me and asking for all the gory details about our not-so-secret romance. The other competitors had taken notice of Aiden’s affections towards me, and Elle warned that they had also taken notice of Shep’s.
Aiden had kept my mind preoccupied, so if Shep had made any advances, they weren’t that noticeable. At least not to me.
After working on the farm and enjoying fresh farm to table cuisine, Aiden and I would sneak off from the group and take refuge in Lance’s trailer. I knew I was spending most of my time with Aiden, and I also knew that wasn’t the best move if I wanted to win this competition. I needed to stay focused, which was becoming more and more difficult the more attached I got to him.
My heart was pounding as I faced my next task, two cameras practically in my face. It made my soul ache, but I had to kill a chicken today and even though the other competitors were starting to snicker behind my back and throw resentful glares at me for what they thought was Shep showing favoritism, I refused to let it get in my way.
“You can do this, Claire.” Shep offered up comforting encouragement. “I’m right here with you.”
Shep held a chicken in his arms like a baby as he let his hand smooth over her feathers and calm her anxieties. She was beautiful, and it pained me to know that she was about to be slaughtered, and knowing I was the one who had to do the deed was more than I could handle. The only thing that helped calm my nerves was knowing that the slaughter process would be quick and humane, much more so than how factories did it every day.
I watched as he lowered her head first into a milk jug that was nailed to a post, her head coming through the bottom. She squawked and kicked at first, but once she was secured into the jug, she instantly calmed and just dangled in her forced position as Shep handed me a knife.
“One small cut to the artery,” he instructed, showing me with his finger where I was to make the cut. My hand shook as I gripped the small blade and tears welled up in my eyes. I had never killed anything in my life, not even a bug.
“I can’t do this,” I admitted, stepping back from the bird.
“You can, this is part of life,” Shep encouraged.
His hand reached for my lower back and slowly guided me toward the poor helpless chicken. From the corner of my eye, I saw Elle whisper something to the cutesy blonde, Janine, before they both offered up what appeared to be fake smiles of support.
I looked around the group, noticing some of the glares that were anything but supportive and felt my determination return. My hand rose and under my breath, I thanked the chicken for its sacrifice. Then I sliced and stood back, tears streaming down my cheeks. My entire body shook with both adrenaline and remorse as the knife fell to the ground.
Blood trickled down into a small puddle underneath, and I watched as the realization of what I’d done sank into my soul. I felt strong arms around me and then a hard chest against my cheek. I sobbed and shook, my body trembling and my heart aching as I clung to the body that comforted me and worked on pulling myself together.
“You did great,” Shep murmured as his hand caressed my back, the strong beat of his heart against my ear.
I pulled away quickly, nearly stumbling in my haste. I hadn’t even realized that it was Shep’s arms I had been drawn into. I turned to Aiden who was glaring at Shep, then looked around at the other faces. It was obvious the group was creating their conclusions about Shep’s motives for hugging me so endearingly, and mine for clinging to him the way I had.
Taking a deep breath, I re-focused my attention on the task at hand and followed the instructions for harvesting the slaughtered bird. I was determined to show the others I wasn’t as weak as I appeared. I refused to cry another tear, and I certainly wouldn’t lean on anyone again.
“They think you’re sleeping with Shep,” Elle whispered in my ear after I’d finished my task and was walking towards our room to pack.
“I’m not,” I hissed, but could understand why the others would think so. I looked at Elle and wondered how much of that rumor she had stirred up.
That they believed I would stoop to such a level infuriated me, but also created a fire to prove I was good enough to be here not only to them, but to myself.
As we packed, Gretchen rushed us, giving instructions to be out front in twenty minutes. It was scary knowing the week was over and another competition was about to send yet another contestant home. We were about to become eight, and I was determined I would be one of them.
“You’ve learned many skills while here on the farm. Many of you have mastered them all, some of you mastered some, and a few of you have mastered none,” Shep announced as we lined up for the weekly competition. “Today, you get a chance to show off the skills you mastered here, and for the ones who have struggled this week, now is your chance to survive. One of you will go home, and it may not be one of those who struggled, it just might be one who feels as if you’ve mastered this week.”
Shep spoke loudly and took his time eyeing each one of us as we stood in front of him. I worried that his eyes lingered on me for too long, especially while he gave the warning for the one who might be leaving the competition.
“Are you ready to find out what we have in store for you?” he asked.
We all yelled, “Yes!” with enthusiasm, but I knew that many if not all the contestants were just as scared as I was. And the cameras captured it all.
“You will be given one hour to create a fabulous beef dish.” Shep began to smile as he spoke. “And for your final task here on the farm, you will butcher your own cut.”
For a minute, I was lightheaded, thinking he meant we had to butcher a cow. When the stage crew wheeled in a large platform that housed several large cuts of beef, I nearly sank to the floor in relief. Then, a new sensation overcame me — mortification. As I stared at the pieces of butchered cow, I tried desperately to find the portion that contained the filet. I remembered watching an episode of Shep’s cooking show that gave instruction on how to cut out a filet. As I spotted several cuts that could be hiding the decadent tenderloin, my mind raced with what to do with it once cut.
“Let’s get started!” Shep called out and then motioned for everyone to head towards the platform. I ran quickly, grabbing a large cut that I believed had the tender strip I desired.
I carried it back to the station I was assigned. Beef Wellington was my grandfather’s favorite dish, and I’d helped my grandmother prepare it since I was a young girl. I knew it was risky, and if it was under or over cooked I could be the one going home, but I knew if it was perfect, it would certainly impress Shep and the other judges.
Elle raced past me with a basket full of fresh vegetables as Aiden seemed calm, cool, and collected at his station butchering the large cut he chose. I didn’t have time to focus on what they could be making, even though I was curious. My mind was sharp, my skills seemed unstoppable, and my ambition strong. I not only wanted to win, I needed to win. On my own merit.
Shep walked around the stations and looked over shoulders to get an idea of what was being prepared at each. When he stopped at mine, he offered an encouraging smile and a wink.
“That’s ambitious,” he sai
d softly as he eyed the herbed crepes that wrapped my perfectly butchered filets. “It better be perfect.”
I knew perfection was the only way I could stay in this competition with my head held high. My affections towards Aiden and the not-so-secretive fling we were having was bad enough to start rumors, but the affections that Shep had been showing me was leaving a very bad taste in the other contestants’ mouths, and mine.
The clock ticked down, and Shep added to the anxiety by announcing the last ten minutes. I pulled my filets from the oven and finished the glazed baby carrots and roasted potatoes while I prayed they would be perfectly cooked when sliced. As they rested, my heart raced, and when the last minute was announced, I sliced carefully through the crusted crepes and into the meat. It was like cutting butter… they were perfect!
Five.
My body shook, and my excitement grew as I plated everything carefully, finishing with a fresh garnish of parsley.
Four.
Three.
Two.
My hands lifted from the plates and remained in the air as I looked around at my competition. It was obvious some were disappointed, but Elle and Aiden both seemed confident in their dishes as Shep shouted, “Hands up. Step away from the plates.”
There was no time to breathe before the judging began. The judges were tough, especially Shep. It was clear that the first three dishes were disasters, so at least I knew I wouldn’t be going home.
Elle made a braised beef stew that looked like it could be on the cover of a magazine. Shep loved it, the other judges gushed over how tender her beef was and how well she managed to get a perfect flavor into the broth in such a short time. I was feeling nervous as Aiden’s beef tips were equally complimented, and almost nauseous as Janine was told her ribs were probably the best they had ever tasted.
When it came time to bring my dish to the judges, I felt defeated and knew that first place was out of my reach. “This looks perfect,” Shep said. “If you pulled this off, you might just have a chance at winning this competition.”
My heart raced as he took a bite, my eyes following his fork into his mouth. His eyes closed, and he let the meat tease his tongue as he tortured me with his silence. The other judges took their turns at my plate, each avoiding making any comment.
“This may be the best Beef Wellington I’ve ever eaten,” Shep finally broke his silence. The other judges quickly agreed, and relief made my knees weak.
I returned to my station and waited as the judges finished, then took a few moments to discuss whose they felt was the best, and of course, whose they felt was the worst. Those few minutes were excruciatingly painful, especially as the cameras panned over all of our faces, trying to capture any hint of emotion leaking from us.
“Two dishes were equally as good and are both given third place,” Shep announced. “Janine and Aiden.” I watched as they took their place up front and wore smiles that were mixed with appreciation and disappointment. “Our second favorite dish was prepared by Elle,” Shep continued. Elle took her spot at the front with the others and shared the same conflicted smile. “Our favorite dish of the night was a risky move, but it turned out perfect and was more than just slightly impressive…” He waited a few moments to give the appropriate tension time for the cameras. Then his eyes met mine. “First place belongs to Claire.”
Hearing my name sent chills down my spine. I let out a yelp and rushed to the front to stand by Elle, Aiden, and Janine. The feeling was incredible, as though I’d redeemed myself. The others couldn’t say I was sleeping my way through the competition now, not after that perfection.
I felt bad for those who were called down in the bottom three. As they critiqued each dish and offered up some helpful but blunt advice, I felt relieved to have avoided that shameful spotlight.
As Shep announced the loser — a man named Carl I’d barely spoken to — we all rushed to offer condolences before he was ushered onto one of the airport shuttles and returned home with his dreams crushed. I knew I couldn’t be the only one who was thinking what a relief it was to still be here as I watched him being escorted from the homestead.
CHAPTER NINE
e
It was a relief to get out of the airport shuttles and step on the ground once again. I was growing tired of flying, especially since Asher and Lauren spoiled me with that first class ticket.
Florida was beautiful, but hot. Palm trees lined the long dirt road we traveled to get to the farm and were scattered throughout the property.
A man in an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, cut-off jean shorts, and bright yellow Crocs greeted us as we got off the shuttles. “Welcome to paradise.”
I snorted. It was nice, but paradise it was not.
Small campers lined the paths that led to large citrus groves, and well-manicured vegetable gardens took up a good portion of the remaining land. A large white house with a wrap-around porch sat in the center of the property, the place where I assumed the Hawaiian shirt dude lived.
The crew was hot and ready to start, and cameras blasted in our faces as Shep started his script about the farm we were just transplanted to and gave a briefing to the viewers on what to expect this week.
“There’s a beach just right up the road,” Aiden whispered in my ear. “I bet you look great in a bikini.” I felt his hand reach for the small of my back and pulled away. I didn’t want to offend him, but I was ready to start this new adventure without any rumors, and his arm around me wasn’t the way to make that happen.
“I’m sorry, I don’t want people talking,” I apologized with a small smile. “Can we hold this until later?”
He inched away, nodding his understanding.
We were set up in our campers. Mine was on the opposite side of the citrus groves from Aiden’s, something I assumed Shep had coordinated. That was fine; I wanted a fresh start this week anyhow. Nothing was going to get me down.
The filming took several hours, and as we fought through our first challenges on the farm, I felt confident that I was stronger than ever. I couldn’t wait for the competition.
“Okay, get some rest and be ready to start working again early in the morning,” Gretchen announced with her overly perky tone.
“Let’s go,” Elle said, pulling my arm and leading me away from the group. I wasn’t sure where she was taking me, but it was obvious I had no choice. “There’s a bar on the beach just up the road.” She tugged harder on my arm and almost sprinted through the field that led to the beach.
Palm trees, colorful umbrellas, and a tiki bar welcomed us. It was a small town, but several hotels lined the white sandy beach with tourists all plastered in sunscreen and wearing bright colored clothing.
“Two mojitos,” Elle ordered from the blonde bartender. She was older, her skin leathery, and her fake breasts obvious. Probably a retired stripper, I thought to myself with a chuckle.
It didn’t take Elle long to spot a single man sitting at the bar. He was tall with a dark complexion, maybe Italian. His thick black hair was slicked back from his face. She leaned over and said something to him I couldn’t hear. Her stool scooted over towards him, and he bought us a drink, mine I was certain just to be polite as he stole my friend.
Friend? As I watched her charm him, I realized Elle was a lot of things, but my friend… I wasn’t sure about that.
After a couple more drinks, I sat there like a third wheel, being ignored by Elle who’d dragged me there in the first place. I was ready to go.
“I’m going to take a ride with Ronnie in his Corvette,” Elle said cheerfully.
Oh terrific, that sounds like a great idea… leave with a stranger you only just met in a town you know nothing about. Good luck, Elle!
Before I had a chance to argue with her or use any of my sarcastic and witty comments, she was up and leaving, her arm wrapped around Ronnie. I watched as his hand slid to her ass and rolled my eyes at the bartender who looked as irritated as I was. Maybe she had hopes of bedding the man. Looking around, I realize
d she had been his best option before we walked up to the place where it seemed old men came to drink.
“Another one, sweetie?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
“Looks like your friend isn’t coming back anytime soon then?” she asked. I shook my head again, smiled, and left her a ten on the bar.
As soon as I found the path again, I ran into Shep. It was getting dark, and I wasn’t real thrilled about finding my way back alone, so I was glad to see him standing there.
“I thought I would check for stragglers at the bar,” he said. “The owner of the farm told me that it was close by.”
I wondered if he really was looking for stragglers as he said, or if he was looking for me in particular. Or if he had been wanting a drink, or several, for himself.
“Can I walk you back?” he asked.
I smiled up at him. “Yes, please.”
“I wanted to let you know that your cooking skills have really impressed me this competition,” he said after we’d been walking for less than a minute. “I mean, for someone who just started, and who doesn’t even know what she wants yet… you’re damn good.”
“Thanks,” I said humbly and glanced up to see his deep blue eyes staring at me. He really was a handsome man; I could see how he could be a womanizer like Aiden had warned. He was smooth, charming; and oozed talent, so what woman wouldn’t drop her panties when he smiled?
He asked about my history, surprisingly not about Lauren and Asher and the scandal I had been privy to, but about my parents, where I grew up, if I had animals and where I had gone to school. It was nice talking with him, and I was a little disappointed when the path opened up to the field that led to the farm.
“So, did you come out here alone?” he asked. I shook my head and gave him a wry smile. “Elle?” he guessed.
“Yes, but she decided to take off with some man from the bar.”
Shep looked concerned as he glanced back towards the path. “Should I go look for her?”
“No, Elle can take care of herself,” I replied, convincing myself as much as him as I spoke.
