Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 124836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 624(@200wpm)___ 499(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 624(@200wpm)___ 499(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Banks even threw a casual arm around Chef Foo’s shoulders and they shared a high five.
The crowd cheered louder and I could feel the camaraderie between them. It was a competition, sure, but with no hard feelings between either of them.
Well. . .they’re definitely friends now. I will have to get used to Banks being at Lotus Blossom much more than I thought.
Moni chuckled at something Jo said and then put her attention on me. “How’s my very high baby?”
“I’m not that high.”
“Lei, you are out of your mind high.”
“No. I’m not.”
“You’ve been sitting there, watching people oddly—eyes popped open—with this silly expression on your face.”
“No. I’ve appeared very calm and relaxed like a proper Mountain Master.”
She laughed a little bit louder than I thought she should.
Maybe, I do look crazy.
I pointed at her. “I’m going to discipline you later.”
“Say what?”
“You heard me.”
“Mmmm.” She leaned my way and kissed me. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
The warmth of her mouth lingered far longer than the contact. It was these moments, so fleeting yet so full of life, that made me realize just how deeply I was in love with her.
I raised my eyebrows. “Do you think being pussy whipped ever wears off?”
“Lei, I’m not doing this with you—”
“It’s a very serious question—”
“You’re not pussy whipped—”
"But does it wear off after a few years?”
“I have no idea.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
“You’ve never done this to another man?”
She laughed. “I’m about to ignore you.”
I scowled at her.
Despite the teasing and the playful threats of my disciplining her, what lay between us was a profoundly growing partnership. And while I could wield power over many things in the East, Moni had all the control over me.
Does she really not know how powerful she is?
“Oh, baby.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Dima’s about to say the winner. I’m so glad I met him tonight.”
I frowned. “He’s not going to be your advisor.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not your decision to make. It’s mine.”
I gritted my teeth.
Dima—with his sharp intellect— positioned as Moni's advisor?
No.
The possibility sent a slow-moving chill down my spine.
If Dima had my Mountain Mistress’s ear, then he could subtly shape decisions in the East by swaying Moni's views—views that eventually would be intertwined with my own desires.
Dima was more strategic and at times wiser than my father. He had a way of seeing things, of understanding the undercurrents of power and the shifting sands of loyalty, which was invaluable but also, in some ways, threatening.
I could imagine Dima, with his calm demeanor, advising Moni on the complexities of the syndicate's politics. He might lean towards more conservative strategies, or push for alignments that I found less favorable, using his proximity to Moni to influence her—and through her—influence me.
I tensed.
“Come on, Lei.” Moni gestured in the other direction. “Let’s see who is going to win.”
Reluctantly, I followed her gaze back to the table.
Dima kept the microphone a few inches from his mouth.
His eyes were unreadable.
“First off,” Dima kept his voice smooth and casual, “I just want to say, I had a great time judging today. And honestly, I’m going to put in an official request to hire whoever wins—or loses—to be Barbara Whiskers’ personal chef.”
The crowd burst into laughter and I glanced over at Barbara Whiskers. The cat, who had been battling Dima’s pen, was now knocked out on the table, curled up in a ball and completely indifferent to the outcome of this competition.
Dima shook his head and chuckled. “In all seriousness, I’ve had some of the best food of my life today. Chef Foo, Banks—both of you knocked it out of the park.”
Several people clapped.
“Every dish was incredible and I think I speak for everyone here when I say you’ve both set a new standard for what a Grill Off should be.”
Another applause rang out from the crowd and I found myself grinning as I watched the two chefs on stage.
They both looked a little nervous now, that anticipation bubbled up.
Chef Foo straightened his jacket.
Banks now had his arm off Chef Foo’s shoulder and was shifting from one foot to the other. For once, his swagger was dialed down a bit, though he still wore a playful grin.
I leaned back in my chair, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction.
This whole cookout, this competition, had been a ridiculous idea, but somehow, it had turned into one of the best days I’d had in a long time.
It wasn’t just about the food or the competition—it was the feeling of everyone coming together, having fun, letting loose.
I made a mental note to remember that even in the chaos of my responsibilities as Mountain Master, moments like this mattered too.
Dima paused and then, with a playful glint in his eye, he looked right at me. “Before I announce the winner, I’d like to make an official request with our Mountain Master.”