Devour Me, Baby(19)

As each episode was filmed, I silently cheered for anyone but Liz to win. When it came time to eliminate a contestant, I kept my fingers crossed hoping they’d say her name. Six episodes down, and my wishes hadn’t come true yet. But today was a new day—or it almost was since we’d headed to the studio before the sun had even risen in the sky because they were doing a breakfast themed challenge this morning.

When we’d arrived, Owen had gotten me settled on the couch in his dressing room. It was comfy enough that I fell asleep for a couple of hours. When I woke back up again, I stretched and felt better rested than I had in a long time. The nap was exactly what I’d needed, not that I was going to tell Owen that since he’d had to talk me into lying down instead of joining him on set. If I let him know how often he was right about stuff like that, he’d always be bossing me around. Well, more than he already did.

I paused in front of the mirror and fixed my makeup before I headed out in search of Owen. Since the red light above the doors to the set weren’t lit up, I opened them and walked inside. A quick scan of the space confirmed he was exactly where I expected him to be, in the thick of things. He was at a work station with the eight remaining contestants surrounding him while he set a perfectly baked quiche on the counter.

“The secret to a great quiche is the ingredients you choose to fill it with,” he explained. “You can use just about anything you like; vegetables, cheeses, and meats.” He gestured towards a bowl of tomatoes set off to the side. “If you’re going to use something like tomatoes in your quiche, I’d recommend that you seed and drain them first. My personal preference is to peel them as well.”

I smiled as I moved closer, noting how most of the contestants were paying close attention to every word out of his mouth, nodding every so often. My smile was wiped from my face when I noticed that Liz was standing right next to him, so close that her arm brushed against his.

“You also want to make sure to have a good balance, with flavors that complement each other.” He sliced into the quiche he’d made and lifted a piece onto a plate. “This particular combination is my fiancée’s favorite. Asparagus and bacon, with parmesan cheese. I’ve added some green onion and nutmeg for an extra little kick. If I’d wanted something a little milder, I could have gone with leeks instead of the green onions. Swiss cheese would have worked well in place of the parmesan, too.”

Liz’s eyes lifted, and I knew she saw me when she stepped even closer to Owen and smiled up at him. I rolled my eyes, refusing to play her stupid game when I woke up from my nap feeling better than I had since we’d arrived in California. I wasn’t going to let her ruin it for me. Instead, I continued forward and took a deep breath, hoping to catch the scent of that quiche because it was one of my favorite breakfasts.

Catch it I did, but I quickly wished I hadn’t when my stomach promptly turned. I bit my bottom lip as saliva started to pool in my mouth. “Please, no,” I whispered softly. I hadn’t vomited again since the day we’d flown in, but I’d been queasy more often than I liked to admit. I figured it was due to me being exhausted and didn’t mention the issue to Owen. If I had, he wouldn’t have let me lift a finger the whole time we’d been here and probably would have forced me to see a doctor. Not that I had a problem with medical professionals; I just preferred to use ones I knew. I also didn’t like going to them for every little thing, and if I didn’t keep some of what ails me to myself, that’s exactly what Owen would have me doing.

Liz’s smile bloomed at my obvious distress, but it was wiped from her face when Owen spotted me, took stock of the look on my face, and rushed towards me. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I don’t feel so good,” I admitted softly. The quiche smell wafted my way again, and I slapped a hand over my mouth.

Owen swept me off my feet and carried me back to his dressing room. He headed straight for the bathroom, and it was a good thing because as soon as we got there I dropped to my knees and dry heaved. “Poor baby,” he murmured, rubbing my back with one hand while he held my hair up with the other.

One advantage to having not eaten anything yet today was that it didn’t take long for the nausea to pass. Then mortification crept in while I washed my face with the towel Owen handed me before brushing my teeth.

“I can’t believe I almost made a fool of myself in front of that woman,” I grumbled around my toothbrush. “Can you imagine how superior she would have felt if I’d puked in front of everyone?”