Page 7 of Sweet Rivals

“I think that would be bad ass!” she said. I laughed. “Better you than me. I don’t plan on working another stupid booth until it is my own.”

“Must be nice.”

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” she asked after I had already turned to walk away.

I stopped. Good dependable Jenna. Always ready to do favors.

“I’m trying to get a feature in the paper with some Food Fest pictures,” Cat continued. “Do you think you can help me line up a couple good shots?”

“Sure,” I said, lifting my hand to wave, but she already had her camera up to her eye, not waiting for an answer. Of course, I will say yes. I always do.

Cat had a tendency to talk mostly about herself when we were together. Maybe I was partly to blame. As a perpetual people pleaser, I had a tendency to spend conversations asking probing questions and offering support rather than running through whatever was on my mind. I always assumed no one cared about my problems.

When I got home, I was too antsy to sleep. I opened my computer, and my heart dropped despite myself. No response from PotatoBake888. I always worried if I blew up his messages, I would look clingy or desperate, but as a fellow anti-establishment guy, he might be the only one to understand my frustrations.

TheBakingChick: I just heard the Wallaces are coming to Food Fest.

Afterall, I had spent most of the night thinking about the stupid Wallaces showing up and how excited my mom was.

Three dots showed he was typing, and my stomach fluttered.

PotatoBake888: That’s a good thing, right?

TheBakingChick: Are you kidding???? Don’t tell me that you have been bamboozled by the glitz and glam of those pompous idiots. They are the reason people like you and I can’t get our foot in the door of the industry.

The three dots appeared then disappeared then reappeared again as I waited anxiously for his response. Had I grossly miscalculated this guy? He was pretty tight-lipped about his life, but still, I thought I had a pretty good sense of his values. Tears burned in my eyes, and my stomach turned at the realization that I had been fooling myself this whole time. I blinked hard trying to clear my eyes when a message popped up.

PotatoBake888: They are pretty hard to take.

I sighed with relief at his response, annoyed with myself for both jumping to conclusions and being so damn dramatic.

TheBakingChick: They are worse than hard to take. They don’t live in the same world as us. I don’t understand why my mom is so enamored of them. If they are coming here to open a new restaurant, that will be the end of The Lobster Tail.

PotatoBake888: How so?

TheBakingChick: The Wallaces show up, open their overpriced, poorly planned, chain restaurants, put the locals out of business, then bail to let some know-nothing run it in their place. I hate everything they stand for, especially in my town.

PotatoBake888: Maybe you can run him out of town.

TheBakingChick: Aren’t there two of them?

PotatoBake888: I think there are three?

TheBakingChick: No, it’s a father and son.

PotatoBake888: I thought it was two sons.

TheBakingChick: Maybe, I don’t follow them at all.

PotatoBake888: Then maybe they aren’t as bad as you thought?

TheBakingChick: Whose side are you on anyway? I thought we were just talking about running them out of town.

PotatoBake888: I’m on your side. Always.

They were just words on a screen, but they left me warm and flushed as I read them over and over again.

“This man could be a serial killer, Jenna,” I said out loud to myself. “No feelings allowed.”