So...sorry it took me so effing long with this. I'm in the middle of applying for grad. school, so I'm dealing with that and all the lovely stress that comes along with it. Anyway—I almost feel bad about where/how this chapter ends (you'll see). Apologies. This was supposed to be Chapters 4 AND 5, but because of my slowness, it's really more like Ch. 4 and the first portion of Ch. 5. At least it's a bit longer, though, so hopefully you'll forgive the lag-time.
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"Are you nervous?"
Anna's voice, quiet and still husky with sleep, surprised Jason.
It wasn't even seven in the morning yet and he'd been trying to be quiet so she could sleep in. Plus, he sort of wanted the time to think and mentally prepare for the day of competition he had ahead. Having her here eased his anxiety, but still, he couldn't help but obsess about the ten thousand ways he might screw up today.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on his shoes, and glanced over his shoulder at Anna. She was lying on her side, one arm tucked up underneath her head. The ponytail she'd put her hair in the night before had loosened up, so some of her brown hair fell across her cheeks and forehead.
But it was her eyes, like always, that grabbed him and made him want to tell her that, yes, he was nervous as hell. Damn, he hated talking about stuff like this. It was easier to just pretend like all of the pressure wasn't phasing him. Besides, talking about it would probably make him more nervous. So he just turned back around and tried to change the subject.
"Did I wake you up?" he asked. He knew she wasn't a light sleeper but he'd really been trying to be quiet. In his book, being conscious before the sun rose was practically a sin.
"No," Anna replied with a small yawn. "But the alarm on your Blackberry
did
. Way to hit snooze four times, Jay."
He grinned as he finished tying his shoes. Only Anna could make him feel like a jackass first thing in the morning. "Sorry," he said, standing up. "I hate getting up early."
"I know." Anna sat up, hugging her knees to her underneath the plush, almost obscenely bright-white comforter on the bed. "And yet you still decided to become a baker," she pointed out, tucking some loose hair behind her ear. "You'd think after all of those early mornings working with my dad, you'd have picked a different career."
He let out a small laugh. "Working for your dad was false advertising, though. He made everything seem so fun and exciting. He loved that bakery so much, he'd have left it open twenty-four seven if he could've."
"True," Anna said with a grin. "But, back to my original question..."
Oh, hell. He should've known she wasn't gonna drop that question about his nerves. He tried to avoid her brown eyes as they searched his face. He always got the feeling that she saw through half the bullshit he put out there and, with her next words, she proved him right again.
"You're nervous, aren't you?"
Realizing that lying was pointless, Jay walked around the edge of the bed, needing some motion, some action, to help with the jitters he was feeling.
"Yeah. A little," he told her. Really, he felt like his mind was going in a thousand directions at once. He wanted to tell her exactly how nervous he was, but damn, he hated feeling dependent on other people.
Grinding his teeth together, he walked across the room.
Then, because it was on the small table next to where he was now standing, he flipped open his 'tool kit.' It had all of his utensils and supplies inside. The actual food and ingredients, he'd had shipped overnight and were waiting for him at his station in the hotel conference room.
"You know," Anna said after a moment, "this isn't any different than when you're working in Sugar. Or at KIRA."
He shot her a skeptical look. "Yeah, except there's a panel of judges circulating the room. And I'm on a time limit. Not to mention that I'm up against a few dozen other bakers who'd just love it if I cut off a finger or—"
Anna's laughter stopped his rambling. Turning his gaze back to her, he caught her amused eyes and couldn't help but laugh a little. "Okay," he admitted, "maybe I'm more than a
little
nervous." Yeah, more like on the verge of freaking the hell out.
Climbing out of the bed, Anna padded over to him on the thick hotel carpet. She knew Jay well enough to see that, even if he didn't want to come out and say it, he was really anxious right now. He was randomly poking at items inside his tool kit even though she knew he'd meticulously packed the bag before they left Seattle.
"Jay, you're going to do great," she said once she was standing next to him.
When he looked at her, his mouth quirked up into a smile, but she recognized the uncertainty in his eyes when he asked, "How do you know? There're ninety-nine other
damn
good chefs down there." He grimaced. "My odds aren't so hot. You've gotta admit that."
Anna felt a tug in her heart at the look on his face. After all these years, it still amazed her that he could be unsure of himself. On the outside, he was a force of nature while, inside, she suspected he battled a self-doubt that made him his own worst enemy sometimes.
So, maybe it was that vulnerability combined with the fact that she was still half-asleep—and the self-preservation part of her mind hadn't woken up yet—that made her move closer to him.
She was constantly fighting the urge to touch him, inhale the scent of him, but today, just for now, she pushed all of that aside and linked her arms around his waist.
Tilting her head back, she gazed up into his hazel eyes, absently thinking about how much she loved the fact that they changed color at any given time. Right now, they were toffee-colored; clear and bright. She could see her own reflection.
"Think about it this way, Jay," she said. "All you're doing down there is baking. The same thing you've been doing for, what, the last
half
of your life?" She shrugged as much as she could while still hugging him. "Even if you don't place or don't advance to the next round, what've you lost, really?"
One of his dark eyebrows went up. "
Besides
my dignity and self-respect?"
She laughed, giving him a tight squeeze before releasing him—she could only take so much of that, after all. "With everything you've accomplished—your column, your show and Sugar—I don't think your dignity's at stake here," she said, brushing his fidgeting hands away from the tool kit before zipping it up and handing it to him. "And, anyway, you're too damn full of yourself for some competition to make a real dent."
Jay shook his head, strangely calmed by her semi-insult. "Wow, you really need to work on your pep talk skills, there. But," he leaned down and planted a quick, light kiss against the top of her head, "thank you."
It didn't make much sense to him, but just the simple, familiar sound of her voice and her dry, sarcastic humor was enough to help calm him down. Yeah, they were an odd pair, but they worked and he wasn't about to question it.
"Guess I better get down there," he said, holding the tool kit in one hand, his eyes scanning the room trying to find anything he might be forgetting.
Anna took the moment to admire him. He really was so handsome, even this early in the morning. He had on a light blue, button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up revealing his tan forearms. Khaki-colored slacks completed the simple, but devastating outfit. How the heck did he manage to make khaki look so damn good, Anna wondered. Then she noticed the ratty shoes on his feet.
Okay...
almost
good, she mentally amended.
She planted her hands on her hips. "Tell me you're not wearing those sneakers. And with a pair of slacks."
