Another gleeful cheer swept the studio. DJ went through all the chef-celebrity pairs but Ashna and Rico remained the only ones who got it right. This seemed to fuel the audience’s anticipation for whatever they had seen in that video. The competition had barely begun, and Ashna and he were already the undisputed favorites by miles.

As an athlete, Rico knew the value of having an edge. Ashna looked like she had just stolen candy from a toddler. Her guilt, her terror, feeling it all in his gut was doing nothing to ease his restlessness. This was not why he was here.

“You have half an hour.”

As soon as the words left DJ’s mouth, Ashna’s skin turned ashen again. She looked seconds from hyperventilating.

He stepped close to her. “What on earth is going on, Ashna?”

She turned to him, hands shaking, eyes wide and blank.

He slipped an apron over his head. “Can you tie this for me, please?”

As though he’d thrown her a life vest, she stepped behind him and started tying, his body shielding her from the cameras.

“I can’t do this.” Her breath fell in nervous puffs against his spine.

“Do what?” he said without turning around.

“Cooking . . . c-c-cooking in front of the cameras . . . I— I—” Her hands were having a hard time making knots.

Before she could say more, DJ spoke again. “Oh, there’s something I forgot to mention.”

The competitors groaned. Rico could feel Ashna’s grip tighten on his apron strings.

“The chefs don’t cook today. Just the celebrities. Chefs, you get to give instructions, but hands off or your team will be instantly disqualified.”

Commotion broke out across the workstations. Some teams had already started prepping and they stopped with loud exclamations of “Come on!” and “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Tatiana, the dog whisperer, flung the handmixer she was holding across her station, knocking over a set of glass mixing bowls. Glass shattered all over the floor.

Crew rushed toward Tatiana’s station amid gasps. Jonah called a break, telling everyone not to move until the mess was cleaned.

Behind Rico Ashna’s trembling exhale warmed his skin. Her head fell forward, resting between his shoulder blades. He could feel her shaking. The fact that his body was shielding hers from the cameras, from the eyes in the room, turned all the confusion inside him to relief.

It took her a few moments—he counted them off with his breaths—to finish tying his apron and step away. The commotion from Tatiana still took up everyone’s attention.

He turned to her. “Ashna?”

A vacuum cleaner started up.

Jaw clenched, she wiped a hand across her face and pressed it into her mouth. Then the most incredulous laugh escaped her. She thought this was funny?