He believed her. He and Catie, they didn’t backstab. That wasn’t their kind of fighting. They got in each other’s faces, and the best wins were always with humor. “Okay, but promise not to laugh too.”

“Ha! Never going to happen.”

“Evil wench,” he muttered but took out his phone and opened up what he wanted her to see. “Here.”

She leaned in close to him, her ponytailed hair brushing against his shoulder as she looked at the small screen. “Is this someone you follow?” she asked. “They take amazing pictures of their food. That fresh-fruit tart looks out of this world.”

When Danny said nothing, she looked at him and her eyes widened. “It’s you?” she whispered. “Secret recipes page?”

He nodded. “Don’t follow me.” Her account was too big, and she had fans dedicated enough to stalk who she followed. “What do you think though?”

Having grabbed his phone, she began scrolling through his posts. There weren’t that many as he’d only set up the account in the past six months, under the name of TheAnonymousWannabeChef. It was too long, but it seemed to have hit a chord with people and he’d somehow managed to collect a thousand followers.

That was peanuts in comparison to his main account, but these people liked his recipes, tried to make them, and reported back on their successes and failures. They weren’t following him for his rugby skills or because they thought he looked hot in rugby shorts—hell, they’d never seen a single picture of him. They were there for his skills in the kitchen.

It felt good.

As did the admiration in Catie’s eyes when she turned to him. “This is amazing, Danny. They’re so dedicated to you.”

Flushing, he said, “I get a real kick out of it when they post pics of things they’ve made using my recipes.”

“I’d scream,” Catie said with a grin. “What a rush!” After giving back his phone, she took out her own.

“Hey, I said don’t—”

She waved away his interjection. “I have a supersecret account, duh. I use it to follow friends who prefer not to have the media hound them for quotes about me, and you know, fun stuff I enjoy but don’t want the magazines writing articles about. Had it for years.”

“I didn’t know that.” Oddly hurt by the fact she hadn’t told him about the long-term private account, he glanced at the shelf of baking supplies to hide his reaction.

Then she said, “I don’t post anything on it. It’s only for follows—and I follow you out in the open where everyone can see me smoke you in our nemesis wars.”

Right then, his account yet open on his phone, he saw that he’d just been followed by StringOfNumbersPlusOne. He snorted. “Seriously?”

“What? It’s easy to remember.”