Pony Up (Caldwell Brothers Book 4)

by Colleen Charles

  I squeeze her shoulder. “Teenage boys are assholes. I’m sure he’s not like that now.”

  “Oh, he mellowed, for sure,” she says, those gorgeous grey eyes lifting to meet mine. “But at the time, it really stung.”

  “Yeah. I bet.”

  We lapse into comfortable silence for a moment. It’s strange – even though my dad was always so busy with Lincoln and my other brothers, he still found a way to bond with me. And thinking about Pepper, cooking sad vegetable dishes for herself while the rest of her family eats meat somehow makes me sad. She’s always been an outcast. In spite of the family rivalry between me and my brothers, we love each other and would have each other’s backs no matter the situation.

  “I’m sorry you weren’t that close to your parents,” I say in a low voice and pat the seat beside me.

  Pepper looks up, and her grey eyes meet my own with a touching kind of warmth. There is a moment of hesitation before she slides closer and I wrap a comforting arm around her, pulling her close.

  “It’s okay,” she says in a voice that makes me want to hold her forever. “When I got older, I realized that the true family is the family you make for yourself. And I found that. Here.”

  She snuggles up to me and tucks her chin in the crook of my shoulder. Before long, I hear her even breathing and know she’s fallen asleep.

  As improbable as it is, in this moment, I’ve never wanted anything more than having Pepper include me in her found family circle.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Pepper

  Even though months have passed since I gave notice, without long days in the busy kitchen of Sakana to fill my time, I almost feel a little bit lost. I only have a few days until I’m scheduled to fly back for the final round of the Food Network competition, but it feels like an eternity. I’ve never had so much time to myself before – not since I was a little kid, sneaking off the farm and trying to avoid watching my dad and brother slaughter something.

  The worst part is, I’m itching for company. And not just any company. Carter Caldwell. It’s enough to make my head spin. How did I go from hating someone so passionately to…falling in love with them? Being around him makes me feel crazy good. Between the show and our budding relationship, we’ve spent tons of time together. We’ve settled into an easy and comfortable rhythm. In spite of the flow between us, my heart still thuds whenever I catch that first glimpse of him. I can barely tear my face away from his gorgeous eyes. The deeper I fall, the harder I find it to keep myself grounded during taping.

  Wandering around my apartment makes me feel crazy. I pace in circles like a prisoner in solitary before I groan in exasperation and grab my phone to dial Basil, Sakana’s proud and capable new head chef.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me. Can you come over?” I glance over to the kitchen. “You know, I still have no idea what they’re going to have me cook on the finale. Sometimes, I swear Barb hates my guts. Last week, she gave me a chocolate soufflé. I haven’t cooked a difficult dessert since culinary school.”

  “Pepper,” Basil says, cutting me off with a laugh. “You know I can’t, girlfriend. I’m running around in the kitchen like a chicken with my head cut off. Kristin may have turned out to be valuable, but she’s not exactly up to sous chef level yet. My shoes are too big to fill, if you know what I mean.”

  “Well, what about when you get off work?” I glance down at my Apple watch. “Isn’t that like, in a couple of hours?”

  Basil laughs again, but I get the sense that he’s annoyed with me. “Pepper, honey. I love you, but I can’t, not unless I want Dante to skin my flaming ass alive. You know what it’s like – you did this for years.”

  “I did.” I frown and bite my lip. Talking to Basil is making me nervous again. What if I don’t win the competition after all? I realize how much I want to emerge victorious. Even if the man I might love is my worthy opponent.

  “So, you’ll totally understand that I have to hang up now,” Basil says in a sing-song. “I promise, I’ll call you later, boo.”

  He hangs up before I can ask when ‘later’ is. Of course, I can’t call the person I really want to call. I feel like if I pick up the phone every time a butterfly of anxiety flies inside my core, he’ll think I’m incapable and needy. When all I want is for Carter to admire my strength and talent. Under cover of darkness, I feel like such a hack. The whole time, I never imagined Dante would want to sabotage me. But after connecting all the dots, it makes a ton of sense.

  With a sigh, I flop back into bed as the sun dips below the horizon. Maybe if I take a nap now, Basil will be done in the kitchen by the time I wake up.

  ***

  The next few days pass in a Vegas haze since Carter couldn’t leave Steakhouse much. Another catastrophe perpetrated by the bumbling but loveable Claude. In spite of his manic work style, I can see why Carter keeps him. You have to take the good with the bad, and high-quality chefs can be temperamental. Claude’s food speaks for itself. Anything he makes explodes across the tongue in the perfect combination of flavors.

  I spend my afternoons at the pool. In all the years I’ve been living in this condo, I’ve never taken advantage of at least half the amenities because I’ve always been working. It feels good to be lazy for about five minutes. Then I start feeling a little lost.

  When the time comes for me to go back to the airport and fly to Los Angeles, I can’t wait. I pack my suitcase at least three times, making sure I have everything necessary. My signature black jacket with pink embroidery for the show, a couple of cute dresses in case Carter and I wind up going out after…even a bathing suit, just on the off chance I have time to make it to the beach. I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved to leave Vegas.

  Passengers fill every seat, but there’s no sign of Carter. He said he might have to take a later flight. Something about Nixon yanking his chain again. Pouting and lonely, I flop down in my seat and page through the lame in-flight magazine until the plane shoots into the sky. I peer out the window and watch Vegas grow smaller and smaller. Better things ahead, I tell myself as I close my eyes and try to get comfortable in the miniscule coach seat.

  By the time I land, I’m dying to get the final show taped. Once it’s over, I’ll be able to take a breath and plan my next move. I couldn’t commit to anything with the show’s first season and resulting contract hanging over my head. I take a cab to the hotel, check in, shower, and grab a nap before heading to the studio. It’s a familiar sight by now, and I’m not nearly as unsettled by the crush of producers and production assistants swarming the set. If anything, the huge wave of people just makes me feel more confident than ever.

  “Pepper.” Barb calls my name and waves to me. “Over here.”

  I push through the throng of people and make my way over to her. She grins like a hyena, and I wonder what’s up her sleeve this time. With Barb, you just never know.

  “Come with me,” Barb says, taking my elbow and guiding me down a long hallway and into her office. Carter sits in a leather chair, sipping on a La Croix and looking half amused, half bored. I must have missed his arrival text when I had my phone off for my much deserved nap. When he sees me, he winks, and my body warms underneath his heated perusal.

  “So,” Barb says, sitting behind her desk and clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “We have a little…surprise for the two of you.” For a moment, she looks almost nervous. “The showrunners wanted me to tell you beforehand, but you’re just going to have to wait until we go on stage. Are you both ready?”

  Carter and I exchange a glance. I try to smile, projecting confidence even though I’m beginning to feel my anxiety ratchet up.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I’m ready.”

  Carter nods. “Me too.” He rubs his hands together and smirks at me. The air between us crackles with electricity. I want him to pull me into his lap and kiss me. That would be good for ratings, I think, smirking right back.

  “Good,” Barb says. She ge
ts to her feet, still grinning like a cat. “Come with me, please.” She leads us to the door of the set. “As you both know, this is the final round of the competition. We’ll be having a few people judge your cuisine on stage, and then we’ll make our decision about the winner. Before we proceed, I just want you both to know that I’ve had an incredible time working with both of you.”

  I know Barb’s words should fill me with confidence, but my heart races, causing a thin sheen of perspiration to break out on my forehead.

  “I’ve had a wonderful time,” I say, casting a sidelong glance at Carter.

  Carter grins. “Me too.”

  Barb claps her hands together. “Well, looks like we’re ready to go.” She glances up at the red light and smiles. “Come on, you two. Let’s see what you can do.”

  When Barb pushes open the door, I don’t hesitate before walking into the bright lights and making my way over to my usual station. As always, the range sparkles and a basket of ingredients sits on the counter, but this time, they’re wrapped in waxed paper.

  “Welcome to the final episode of Battle of the Land and Sea!” Barb says, smiling her trademark grin. The audience bursts into laughter and applause as Barb makes her way to the table at the far-right side of the stage.

  “Tonight, I’m pleased to announce that we have a little surprise for you,” Barb continues. “As you know, our contestants have their own, unique specialties. Pepper has made her living cooking wonderful pescatarian dishes for the people of Las Vegas, and Carter has made his name by serving huge steaks and all kinds of delicious meats.”

  My heart skids to a stop, and I look at Carter in alarm. What is Barb up to?

  “So, tonight, I thought it would be fun to turn this show on its head,” Barb continues. She turns to me, pointing a finger. “Pepper, tonight you’ll be preparing filet mignon. As we all know, it’s not the most flavorful cut of steak…but the texture can’t be beat when it’s prepared properly. And Carter, you’ll be preparing Pepper’s signature appetizer – her sesame-crusted ahi tuna tower.”

  I feel like my heart is going to burst out of my chest and scamper away. How the fuck am I supposed to cook steak? Just thinking about touching it makes me want to cry. Based on Carter’s expression, I can tell he’s feeling my pain.

  “So, with that being said, let’s get cooking!”

  The audience bursts into applause, and I realize that the moment of truth has arrived. This is my final chance to win – to make something of myself, without Dante in the picture. But in order to get that done, I need to swallow my pride. Gritting my teeth, I turn to the bowl filled with ingredients and gingerly reach in. There’s a giant steak on top, wrapped in waxed paper. It’s red and bloody, and the sight flips my stomach, but I know I can’t let this stop me. I have to persevere, I have to win.

  I have to believe in myself.

  I close my eyes and try to think of what Carter would do. Based on my limited training with red meat, I know I have to wait for the pan to be just perfect before I add the beef. I turn on the range and melt a little butter in the base of a cast iron skillet, tossing a light coat of salt and pepper into the pan. When the butter has melted, and the rich aroma has filled the air, I gingerly pick up the raw steak and toss it into the pan. I have to admit that the sound of sizzling is almost rewarding…I never pan sear fish, so I’m not used to this.

  “Remember, I like mine medium rare,” Barb calls out, and the audience claps and cheers.

  Yeah, well, you better damn well like anything I put in front of you. I slide a metal spatula under the steak and flip it over. The outside begins to crust over, and even I have to admit that the aroma makes my mouth water.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Carter move around with a kind of rapid grace. He, too, looks vexed, but his hands work hard. I can’t take the time to stop and stare, though, so I turn my attention back to the steak. It’s sizzling hot now, and I carefully lift it up in the pan and look down. The juices stream red and bloody from the sides and I use the spatula to make sure all of the edges are carefully seared before lifting it onto a plate.

  I know it has to rest before I slice into it, and also that it will cook a little bit more once it’s off the heat.

  Strange. Now that I’ve done it, cooking steak doesn’t seem quite so horrible. The idea of eating it still sickens me, no matter how appetizing the smell, but I’m starting to wonder if perhaps serving it isn’t the worst idea. Who am I to tell others what they can and can’t eat.

  I ring the bell on my range and turn to Barb and the other judges with a smile. “I’m done early.”

  Barb nods. She glances up at the clock – there’s still a few minutes to go – and smiles.

  “Good.” A production assistant – not Angelo, I’m happy to see – picks up my steak and carries it over to the large table.

  Now, there’s nothing more I can do. I wipe my hands on my apron and lean against the counter. It’s all up to the gods of red meat and timing.

  When the timer dings, I look up at Carter’s range and my jaw drops. He’s sculpted the tuna in the shape of a bucking bronco – just like my signature appetizer. When he sees me, he winks, and my heart melts.

  He did that for me. I watch a production assistant carefully carry Carter’s tuna over to the judges.

  Barb motions for Carter and me to join her at the judge's table.

  “First of all, I want to thank you both for participating in this show,” she says with a wide smile. “And I’m so very excited to try both of these delicious dishes.”

  A loud fanfare sounds over the speakers, and the production assistant rushes in with linen napkins and flatware. Barb takes a long time draping the napkin over her lap and positioning her steak knife and fork in her hands. She looks up at me, her hands poised over the steak.

  “Pepper, I just want you to know, this looks incredible.” She leans in close, sniffing the steak. “You did a perfect sear.” She slices into the steak, and I see that the inside is pink and juicy. “And it looks perfectly medium rare, very good.”

  “Thanks,” I say, flushing and swallowing hard. “I hope you enjoy it.”

  Barb gives me another smile – just how many hours a day does this woman spend with her teeth exposed – and slices a small bite. She closes her eyes as she chews, nodding her head.

  “Excellent,” Barb says. “This is one of the best filet mignons I’ve ever had. The texture is perfection.”

  The production assistant hands Barb a glass of water, and she takes a long drink before putting the steak knife down and reaching for a butter knife. She selects a piece of ahi tuna from the top of Carter’s bronco tower and slices it in half on her plate, taking a small bite.

  “Carter, this is very good,” she says. “The only thing I’m concerned about is that when you seared the edges, the tuna cooked just a little too much in the middle.”

  I wince, but Carter seems as pleased as punch. He nods and smiles. “I’ve never cooked tuna before.”

  “Yes, and it’s incredibly good for a first attempt.” Barb stands up and shakes his hand.

  Oh, no. My heart sinks. Carter won, and now Barb’s going to turn to me and ask me to leave.

  But to my surprise, Barb turns to me with a wider-than-usual smile. “Congratulations, Pepper,” she says warmly. “You’ve won the Battle of the Land and Sea!”

  My breath stops in my chest, and I feel faint. “I did?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  The audience cheers right along with Barb, and adrenaline washes over me in a hot, powerful wave.

  I did it. I did it!

  “Oh my god,” I say, clutching my chest. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, thank you! Thank you so much!”

  Barb shakes my hand. “Don’t thank me. You did this all on your own. I’ve never had such a good piece of steak!”

  We all pose for a few shots behind our creations, then Barb leads me and Carter off stage.

  “I just want to thank you two so much,”
she says with a little laugh. “I never imagined the show would be this popular, but the ratings don’t lie – people love you two so much. You’re their favorite culinary duo according to our latest survey.”

  “Thank you.” I glance at Carter. He doesn’t look angry, but I wonder what’s going to happen when Barb leaves. I wonder if by winning this competition, I’ll actually lose something even more important.

  I’ll lose him.

  “No, Pepper, thank you,” Barb says. “We’ll be in touch about the next steps. And Carter, it was wonderful working with you. Your customers are a very lucky and well-fed bunch.”

  Carter smiles. “Thanks.”

  “Well, do you have any questions for me? You both fly out tomorrow, and I want you to enjoy a night on the town, courtesy of the Food Network.” She hands each of us an envelope.

  “No.” I can hardly believe it – it still doesn’t feel real.

  My own show. My own show where I can give a voice to all the people who choose not to eat meat.

  “I’m good,” Carter says, giving Barb a lazy smile. “Thanks again.”

  “Well, if that’s all, then have a wonderful flight home.” She smiles one last time, then turns on her heel and strides down the hall, tossing over her shoulder, “Pepper, I’ll be in touch with the particulars.”

  Now that I’m alone with Carter, thoughts of ripping his clothes off pop into my mind.

  “Well, that was fun.”

  Carter steps closer and frowns. “Why the hell aren’t you more excited? You just won. That steak looked amazing. I’m not sure I could’ve done it better myself.”

  “I just…” I trail off, biting my lip. “I mean, I’m sorry we couldn’t both win.”

  “I have a restaurant back home, and a supportive brother,” he says, leaning close and raising an eyebrow. “You need this more than me, Pepper. Besides, there’s always next year. And most importantly, I have…the girl.”

  My insides warm at his words, but worry chills them soon enough. “But I don’t want you to resent me. I don’t want you to have any kind of bad feelings for me at all, because I–”