Chapter 0289


    Abby


    Logan’s smirk unsettles me. It feels as though he somehow has the upper hand in a game I didn’t even


    know we were ying.


    “I don’t understand, Logan. What are you talking about?” My voice is steady, but inside, I feel anything


    but.


    Logan leans against the door frame, casual as ever. “Ken didn’t tell you?” He raises an eyebrow, a


    smile ying on his lips that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I thought after our chat on the day of the


    cook-off, he would fill you in.”


    “Fill me in on what, exactly?” I press, my heart pounding. Karl had mentioned a ‘misconception’ that


    day, that he had tried to change Logan’s mind but couldn’t, but that was as much as I knew.


    And yet, the way Logan is looking at me, like he’s got a secret that he isn’t telling, is downright


    infuriating.


    He shrugs, the smirk still there. “It’s not my ce. But, Abby, you should probably have a conversation


    with your ‘sous chef.’ I’m not one to repeat myself.”


    And with that, he turns on his heel and walks back to the dining room to join the chatting group with his


    ss of wine, leaving me alone with nothing but a steaming coffee pot and a mind racing with


    questions.


    What did Karl say to him? What could have really been said between them? Is there something that


    Karl isn’t telling me?


    I reach for the coffee pot, my hands trembling slightly. The dark liquid pours into the cups, but I’m not


    really paying attention. My mind is stuck on Logan’s words, on the implications of what he said. There’s


    more to this story. There has to be.


    Suddenly, thanks to my distraction, the coffee cup overflows and dark coffee spills out onto the granite


    countertop.


    “Damn it,” I mutter under my breath, quickly grabbing a cloth to mop up the mess. I can’t afford to be


    clumsy right now, not when there’s so much at stake.


    Karl and the judges continue to chat away in the other room. I can hear the sound of Karl’sugh, his


    lilted voice as he tells some story or another. But I feel so far away, even as I mop up the spilt coffee.


    What did they say to each other, really? And if it was important, then why would Karl keep it from me…


    especially after we promised that there would be no more secrets following the incident with Adam?


    Once the mess is cleaned up, I ce the cups and a little pitcher of creamer on a tray, my movements


    robotic as I try to piece together the puzzle. It just doesn’t make sense. Karl wouldn’t keep something


    important from me, right?


    No, not when my career is on the line. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.


    But Logan’s insinuations, the way he said I should get the truth from Karl… it hints at something more,


    something that’s not quite right. A niggling doubt starts to worm its way into my thoughts, and I hate it. I


    hate the uncertainty, the suspicion that’s now clouding my judgment.


    “Everything okay, Abby?” Vanessa asks, her eyes kind but inquisitive as I approach.


    I force a smile, setting the tray down. “Yes, everything’s fine. Just a little spill in the kitchen.” It’s not a


    “Ah, the joys of being a chef,” Xavier jokes, epting his cup with a grateful nod.