Matteo clasps his hands together, as if he’s about to pray. “Then I suggest a bit of friendly competition to settle this obvious dispute you two are having.” He gestures to the clear blue ocean in the background. “This is a coveted spot, certainly. Why don’t you let your customers decide? Whichever one of you scores the highest at the festival is the winner of this spot. How does that sound?”

Neither of us speaks. All we exchange is an uncertain glance between us before turning back to Matteo.

It’s actually a solid idea. A hell of a stressful prospect though. I thought I hit the jackpot when I stumbled upon this open area months ago. I swallow back the urge to state my case, balling my fists at my side instead. I came across it first fair and square, and now I have to fight for it. I don’t have a choice though. One steady, even breath and the muscles in my neck loosen from their tension knot. I’m not willing to leave this spot. I’ll earn it all over again if I have to. It’s absolutely not what I want to do, but our livelihood rides on this.

The crevice between Callum’s eyebrow deepens. He almost looks amused. “So this is what it’s come to?”

Something soft rests at the edges of his tone. It sounds a lot like hesitation.

“You clearly have no intention of backing off,” I say.

“Not a chance in hell.” All trace of doubt has left his voice, leaving behind that hard tone I’ve come to know so well.

“Okay, then,” I say.

Matteo closes his eyes and smiles. “Splendid. And the prize is even bigger this year, since last year’s winner was disqualified after it was discovered that they were secretly working with a chain restaurant to get free ingredients. Can you believe that? Such blatant cheating.” Matteo tsks. “Festival officials are being even stricter about contest rules this year. The winner has to win on their own merits, which means no help from anyone. I hear that if there’s even the slightest hint of eateries fraternizing with each other, you could be disqualified. That certainly won’t be the case with you two.”

Matteo chuckles, clearly pleased at his joke. I turn away to roll my eyes.

“They’re taking the money forfeited by the disgraced winner last year and adding it to this year’s prize,” Matteo says. “That means twenty thousand dollars for the winner. That’s really quite something, isn’t it?”

Callum and I shoot identical WTF expressions at Matteo. On the inside, I’m pumped. Twenty thousand dollars is a game-changing amount of money. We could fix up our food truck, invest in some new supplies, and put whatever’s left over into Mom’s savings.

Callum pivots to me and sticks out his hand. “Shall we make it official?”