“I didn’t know you were staying here,” she said as the elevator door opened and he held it for her.
“I live on the Big Island, not Oahu, so the school provides lodging.” He stepped in after her, letting his gaze travel over her. “I think someone wants to win this competition.”
She grinned. “I do. It’s more than just the money—and the fun—though. It’s about Max and how much he’s believed in me.”
Oh, maybe that was too much information. She stared straight ahead and tried to keep her face from heating.
Then the elevator doors opened to the lobby and there stood Max.
So much for trying to keep cool. He’d also brought his A game to tonight’s reception. He wore a black suit, tailored to accentuate his wide shoulders and trim waist, and a pink dress shirt, a matching plumeria blossom tucked into the lapel buttonhole. He’d shaved, and the smell of his cologne tugged her out of the elevator. But the expression in his eyes stalled her just a few feet away.
He appeared almost . . . angry?
She wanted to flee the lobby for her room, forget this stupid interview and the fact that she had longed, just a little—or more than a little—for Max to be wowed. Longed to take his breath away.
Grace licked her lips, found her voice. “Too much? I can change—”
“We’ll be late. You look . . . you look . . .” He shook his head. “Let’s just go.”
He held out his arm, but his words cut through her, cold and sharp. She ignored them, bit her lip, and let him lead the way to his car, parked by the entrance. She climbed in, tucking the scarf around her shoulders, tying it in front. Blinking to keep the bite from her eyes.
He got in beside her. “You look real nice.” His tone sounded like he might be congratulating the other team on their victory.
But she did look nice—better than nice—and for a moment she hated him for stealing that from her.
He pulled away from the curb and said nothing during the drive to the reception. She glanced at him once and noticed his hand, whitened on the stick shift. Maybe he was as tense as she was about tonight. She dared a look at his face and found his jaw tight.
He noticed her gaze on him and met it. Offered the smallest smile.
Grace turned away, completely confused.
Music drifted from the glassed-in reception hall tucked into the arching, lush mountains and overlooking the Pacific Ocean. A valet took the car, and Grace conceded to taking Max’s too-muscular arm as he led them up the stairs and into the party.
Inside the hall, the open doors spilled out to the beach, where tiki lights illuminated a path to the ocean. A band played on the lanai, luring people to the outdoor seating.
Tucked surreptitiously around the room, cameramen captured every nuance of the evening—from the flickering candlelight to the excited hum of guests holding champagne glasses, all dressed in high summer fashion. Most of the men wore linen suits, the women in cocktail dresses. She saw Keoni greet a tall, sun-kissed blonde woman in a sarong, her hair loose and cascading down her back.
“That’s Tonie, one of the judges this year. She has a food blog and a show on a local cable network,” Max said.
As if sensing Max’s words, the woman looked over at them, smiling when her gaze fell on Max. Hungry. Interested.
A tiny knot tightened in Grace’s stomach. Good grief, she wasn’t jealous, was she?
“Uh, Max, I thought this was just a local competition. It’s not going to be on any cable shows, right?”
“I don’t know. I think they’ll broadcast it locally, but no, I don’t think anyone outside Hawaii will see it.”
She couldn’t place the feeling inside her—relief? Or maybe disappointment?
Well, they probably wouldn’t even be chosen.
“Let’s eat,” Max said, guiding her toward the food, his hand warm on the small of her back.
A lavish buffet of appetizers spread out as if hinting at the competition awaiting them. Grace left Max and perused the delicacies, reading the cards. Chicken yakitori, spanakopita, assorted dim sum, shrimp tempura, oysters Rockefeller, salmon roulade, ahi poke, sashimi, and grilled garlic shrimp skewers.
Behind her, Max had picked up a plate, started to fill it. Grace, however, had lost her appetite, strangling a bit on the taste of her own imminent failure. The knots in her stomach multiplied.
“I need some air,” she said and headed away from the table, out toward one of the smaller lanais. She stepped into the balmy heat and drank in the cool ocean breeze.
“Are you okay?”
The man, dressed in a black suit, black shirt open at the neck, was nursing a glass of red wine on the next lanai. His words left the tinge of an English accent in the air.