His words give me pause. Our eyes lock, and for a moment, I'm lost in his brown gaze. But then, I realize that he's right; Logan just wants to throw me off my game. This isn't the cook-off. There are no fellow contestants switching my spices, no real reason to let one judge's comments make me doubt everything.

But that doesn't mean that I can't go outside the box for the entree. Suddenly, I have an idea, and a grin spreads across my face.

“I've got it,” I whisper.

“So, Abby, what's on the menu for the entree?” Vanessa asks, her voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity that helps unwind the nerves that have settled in my stomach.

I glance up, a smile touching my lips. It's not what I planned for tonight, but I just know it'll work. "Stuffed chicken breast with a side of rosemary potatoes and sauteed green beans.”

Logan makes a face. “We asked you for something outside of the box, Abby,” he says, his voice almost a hiss. “And you choose chicken, potatoes, and green beans?”

I nod, ignoring his jabs. “I did.”

Xavier speaks up before Logan can retort and leans in, peering at the herbs I'm laying out on the counter. “Interesting choice. I assume you'll find a way to wow us, to make this dish a real standout, correct?”

I nod, my hands already deftly prepping the chicken breast. “I will. You'll see.”

Logan's expression is unreadable, his eyes following my knife, but says nothing.

Vanessa grins. “Well I, for one, love this dish. I'm excited to see how you make it your own, Abby. A twist on a classic.”

The chicken is now seasoned and ready for the pan, sizzling as it hits the heat. “The surprise is a hint of lion's mane.”

The judges exchange looks, each as baffled as the rest. “Lion's mane? The mushroom?” Vanessa asks.

I nod. “Yes. I believe it adds a unique texture and an earthy flavor to an otherwise light dish. Combined with the tang of the lemon juice in the sauce, think of it like...”

“A symphony of flavors,” Xavier says, sounding pleased. I nod, and lift my eyes to meet the judges. Vanessa and Xavier are both on the edges of their seats, while Logan is leaning back, his arms folded across his chest, watching me with the utmost scrutiny.

But I won't let it get to me. I can't let it get to me. I'm too determined to make him eat his words. As the chicken cooks, I turn to the potatoes, their skins crisping to a golden hue. The beans follow, their vibrant green a contrast to the rich browns on the rest of the plate.

“Your timing is impeccable,” Xavier comments, his eyes never leaving the pans in front of me.

“I've been told I'm quick with a pan and quick with a retort,” I tease as I flip the chicken breasts in the pan, their earthy aromas rising into the air in a puff of steam. There's a ripple of laughter from Vanessa and Xavier, and even Logan's lips twitch upward.

The plates are already warm from where I've placed them beneath the warming rack, waiting for the chicken and potatoes. I make sure to plate with precision, the chicken sliced to reveal its hidden heart of lion's mane and herbs, the potatoes and green beans scooped heartily beside it for a glistening, colorful companionship.

As a finishing touch, I drizzle spoonfuls of warm oil and rosemary over the places. Then, I set the plates down with a flourish.

“Voila.”

Vanessa's eyebrows lift as she scans the table, then settles her gaze on me. “Abby, where's your plate?”

A pause hangs in the air, and I feel suddenly confused. “I wasn't aware I should be joining you.” She chuckles. “Abby, this is your home—not the cook-off. Won't you and Ken at least join us for the entree?”

Karl and I exchange glances, both of us taken aback by the sudden invitation.

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