Chapter Seven – A Recipe for Trouble
The kitchen smelled like roasted garlic and simmering tomatoes, a comforting blanket of warmth that clung to Amira as she tied her apron tighter. She told herself she was here for one thing only: to cook. To focus. To win.
But the universe—or maybe fate—seemed determined to make sure Daniel was always in her orbit.
He was already at the counter when she arrived, sleeves rolled up, hair a little tousled like he'd run a hand through it a dozen times. His confidence filled the space as naturally as oxygen. And when his eyes lifted to meet hers, the corner of his mouth tugged into that infuriatingly lazy grin.
"You're late," he said.
Amira scoffed. "I'm five minutes early."
"Exactly. Late to me."
She rolled her eyes, ignoring the way her pulse betrayed her calm facade. "Not everything is about you, Daniel."
"Funny," he said, leaning closer across the counter, "because you keep proving otherwise."
Before she could snap back, Chef Marco clapped his hands, the sound sharp enough to cut through the charged air.
"Listen up, all of you," he boomed. "Today is about improvisation. Life in the kitchen doesn't always give you time to prepare. So, you'll be making a dish with mystery ingredients. No recipes. No safety net."
A collective murmur of surprise rippled through the class. Marco gestured toward a covered cart. "Each pair will pick a basket. What you get is what you cook with. No substitutions."
Daniel's grin widened. "Now this… this is my kind of game."
Amira crossed her arms, her stomach tightening with equal parts nerves and anticipation. "Of course it is. You thrive on chaos."
"And you thrive on control," he countered. "Which means we're going to balance each other out perfectly."
Amira didn't want to admit he might be right.
Their basket contained salmon, mangoes, fresh chili peppers, and… licorice.
She blinked at the odd combination. "You've got to be kidding me."
Daniel chuckled. "Oh, this is going to be fun."
"Fun? This is a disaster waiting to happen."
"Sweetheart, disaster is just another word for opportunity."
Amira narrowed her eyes. "Call me sweetheart one more time and I swear—"
"—you'll fall for me?" he finished, smirking.
She bit back the retort on her tongue, heat crawling up her neck.
They started prepping, knives moving in rhythm as the tension between them thickened like the sauce simmering on the stove. At first, they bickered—over seasoning, over knife skills, over plating. But somewhere between chopping mangoes and searing salmon, their movements fell into sync.
Daniel reached for the salt at the exact moment Amira did. Their fingers brushed. Neither of them pulled back right away.
"Careful," he said quietly, his eyes locking on hers. "If you keep touching me like that, people will talk."
Her breath caught, but she forced a scoff. "You wish."
The words felt hollow even to her own ears.
When their dish finally came together—a spicy-sweet glazed salmon over a mango-chili salsa—it looked better than either of them expected. The aroma was mouthwatering, the colors vibrant.
Marco tasted in silence, his face unreadable. After a long pause, he finally nodded. "Bold. Risky. But you pulled it off."
Relief washed over Amira, but before she could savor it, Marco's eyes sharpened. "But bold choices bring bold consequences. Let's see if you can keep this up. Tomorrow, there will be individual challenges. No partners. No safety net."
The room buzzed with tension. Amira's heart hammered. She'd gotten used to sparring with Daniel, pushing against him like a wave against the shore. The thought of standing alone both thrilled and terrified her.
As the class filed out, Daniel lingered by her side. His voice was low, teasing, but laced with something softer this time.
"Guess we'll see what you can really do when you don't have me to save you."
Amira turned to face him, refusing to flinch under his gaze. "Who says I ever needed saving?"
But even as she walked away, she couldn't shake the truth she didn't dare admit out loud.
She wasn't sure if she feared the challenge ahead—
Or the possibility that without Daniel beside her, she might miss the very chaos she claimed to hate.