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“All fifteen seasons.” I stab my fork into a cherry tomato and slide it between my teeth.
He swallows what’s in his mouth. “This is really good.” My lips curve into a satisfied smile. “One of the producers who used to work on my dad’s show, called me today asking if I’d be interested in this upcoming season.”
I gasp with wide eyes. “You’re going to be one of the contestants on Culinary Masters?”
“They want me on the show but not as a contestant.” Hunter pours himself a glass of Pinot Grigio from the cellar.
I lean forward in my chair. “As what then?”
A hint of a smile quirks his lips. “As a judge.”
My jaw drops. “No freaking way.”
“Way.” His grin grows. “Chef Tims isn’t coming back for next season, and they’re scrambling to find a replacement. They’ve expressed interest in me and two other chefs.”
“Holy shit. Hunter, this is huge.” I feel an adrenaline rush at his news. I can barely contain how happy I am for him. I knew it was only a matter of time before he got his big break. And here we are.
“It is.” He feeds Liam more food before eating himself.
I’m almost too excited to eat, but I do anyway because I’m starving, having not eaten since breakfast. “When do they start shooting?” I twist my fork into the angel-hair pasta and slurp the noodles into my mouth.
“First of the year in January.”
I cover my mouth as I chew my food. “Where?”
His excitement fades. “San Diego. They shoot for eight weeks.”
I swallow my food. “Two months?” I look over at Liam, who’s playing with his food. He’ll change so much in two months.
Hunter leans forward in his chair. “If they offer me the job—”
I interrupt. “When they offer you the job.”
His eyes bore into mine. “If they offer it to me, we make this decision together.”
I shake my head. “It’s not my decision to make.”
He slides his hands across the table, palms up, as if beckoning me to take his hands. I do. Without hesitation. “It’s a family decision. We’re a family.”
Warms spreads throughout my chest. We are a family. We’re a team. We’re partners. It’s what we set out to be from the very beginning. “You have my full support.”
“Would you and Liam consider coming with me?” His blue eyes connect with mine, and they hold me in place.
He wants us to go to San Diego with him? “I can’t.”
He nods slowly, his teeth tugging his lower lip. I can tell he’s disappointed, maybe even a little hurt. But I can’t just pick up everything and follow him to San Diego for two months. My work would never go for it.
“Maybe Liam and I can visit a weekend here and there. And there’s always FaceTime.” I slide my hand from his and put it in my lap. I try not to focus on his reaction—the slight wince or the glimpse of sadness in his eyes before it vanishes.
“Yeah,” he says after a beat. “I don’t think I’m qualified enough. Chef Tims is a legend. I could never replace him.”
“They think you can, and I know you can.”
“They’re only considering me because of who my father is. And the casting director said I have a face for TV.” He uses finger quotes. “There are far more talented chefs out there who deserve this more than me.”
“You can’t help what you look like or who you were born to. But trust, you’ve paid your dues and they know it. You’re the youngest chef to ever be awarded three Michelin stars, so put some damn respect on your name.”
“You’re great for my ego.”
