Shayne frowned and poked the still-blank paper in Reena’s hand. “You’re not writing!”

She rolled her eyes, but wrote FoodTV Home Cooking Showdown on the sheet.

“How do you apply?” Marley asked.

“You do an audition video to get in. They pick, like, eight contestants or something out of the auditions. Then the contestants make two more videos by themselves from home. And I think they get to go to the FoodTV studios? I kinda zoned out then because I was imagining Anderson wearing one of those headset things on set …I want to play director and innocent ingenue with him …”

“Shayne,” Marley said, laughing.

“Right. So, it’s public voting, not expert judges. Because really, it’s about the personality and what the food looks like, not the taste, or anything.”

“This sounds like a reality show, Shayne.” Reena had no interest in that. None.

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!”

“I don’t—”

Shayne grinned. “Here’s the inside scoop that only someone who is intimately acquainted with someone on the production team would know—they are really hoping for a bit of diversity in the contestants. They want to showcase all the different food cultures in Canada. They are not going to pick any run-of-the-mill Mike and Michelle McBasic. I think you’d be a shoo-in.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Because I’m brown?”

Shayne nodded. “Yeah, and because you’re the best cook I know. And you’re cute as shit, too. Marley can fluff up your hair a bit and put you in something sexy. And believe me, you want the grand prize.”

The more he said, the more Reena was sure that she didn’t want to do this, but Shayne’s expression was so annoyingly smug, she wanted to wipe it off his face. “Okay, fine. I’ll bite. What’s the grand prize?”

He smiled broadly. “Get your pen ready …the Home Cooking Showdown is in conjunction with the Asler Institute of Culinary Arts. The winner gets a ten thousand-dollar scholarship.”

Damn.

Reena stilled. That changed everything. The artisan bread course was at the Asler Institute. With that scholarship, she could finally enroll. Hell, she could take the whole baking and pastry arts program.

She bit her lip. Soooo tempting.

“You have to do it, Reena,” Marley said. “Seriously. We’ll help. Shayne can film it, and I’ll help with your hair and clothes. You don’t need help with the cooking part. We’ll make sure you get this. No one deserves—”

“Cool your jets, Marl,” Shayne interrupted with one hand up. “There is one glitch. There is something Reena doesn’t have that she would need as a contestant.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Reena asked.

Shayne smiled his knowing, mischievous grin, which Reena knew not to trust. She wasn’t going to like whatever he had to say, and he relished it.

“What you need, my dear friend, is a husband.”

CHAPTER FOUR

For the love of god, why did everyone want Reena to have a husband? This was getting absurd. She stared blankly at Shayne.

“A husband?” Marley asked. “What kind of puritanical drivel are they producing?”