I went out of the room and removed Miguel’s number from my phone. I even took him out of my contact list. That was that.

Dinner was served shortly after. Chef Art had a huge dining room table. All the food truck personnel and sponsors fit around it. The room was big enough that the cameramen had plenty of space to walk around and take videos of us during the meal.

Chef Art welcomed all of us to his home. “I guarantee the meal I’m about to feed you will be a thousand times better than the meals we had on the road.”

Everyone laughed. Chef Art’s bodyguards closed the doors to the dining room while the party went on in the rest of the mansion.

“Still, I’ve had a great time. I can’t wait to see how my Biscuit Bowl team does in the morning.” He nodded to Patrick Ferris who stood up at his chair.

“Hello, foodies!” He sounded exactly as he had during the race, but with no microphone. “I know you’re ready for the finale tomorrow. We’re down to only two of you. Teams, please stand when I call your names.”

Ollie, Uncle Saul, Delia, and I got to our feet as he announced the Biscuit Bowl. Bobbie and Allison stood up when he said Shut Up and Eat. The cameras zoomed around the table to get close-ups. We all waved and smiled, even Bobbie.

“We’ve got a tough day planned for these two teams tomorrow. Of course we’ll begin at six A.M. in the heart of Mobile. I doubt if even the Spanish moss will be out that early.”

He guffawed, and the rest of us laughed with him. Fleet-footed waiters began bringing in the first course of the meal, cream of celery soup.

“But you all are used to that, aren’t you?” No one responded, and he moved on. “You’ll be making your signature foods again tomorrow. This time, though, we’re gonna tie you down a little. Bobbie and Zoe will stay with their respective trucks while the rest of you swap teams. The Biscuit Bowl team will be working as the team for Shut Up and Eat. The team for Shut Up and Eat will be making those great biscuit bowls. How’s that for excitement?”

Ollie didn’t like that idea at all. “I didn’t sign on for that. I’m not helping another team win the money.”

“That’s not fair since we have three people in our team and Bobbie only has her daughter.” Uncle Saul nodded to Bobbie’s daughter. “No offense, young lady.”

One of the producers, the quiet one who always seemed to have the last word, whispered something to Patrick.

“I guess we’re going to allow one Biscuit Bowl team member to stay with Zoe Chase because of the difference in team size,” Patrick announced. “Zoe, pick your favorite team member.”

That was a no-win situation for me. All the cameras focused on my face. I had to look like I had shell shock. How could I pick one person? No matter who I picked, the others would be hurt.

I knew they were waiting for my reaction. “This really isn’t fair. I can’t pick one person on my team who’s my favorite. I love them all, and I think this is a stupid way to end this race.”

Patrick grinned. “Remember, we told you we’d have some tricks up our sleeves. Make your choice, Zoe, or forfeit to Shut Up and Eat.”

Uncle Saul whispered to me, “Don’t worry about me. We’ll work out the savory filling between us. Choose Ollie or Delia.”

Ollie again stated his position on how wrong this was. “What if we sabotage the other team so our team wins?”

“We’ve thought about that, Biscuit Bowl team member. If either team loses because of poor work performance, the fifty thousand dollars will be awarded to the other team, the one that didn’t cheat.”

Delia smiled at me and put her hand on mine. “Choose Ollie. I don’t think he can handle it if you don’t. I’ll be fine. I know I’m your personal favorite.”

I felt like my hands were tied. I knew from the look on Bobbie’s face that she wasn’t happy with the terms of the race tomorrow, either. Her daughter was equally stricken. She was just a kid. She probably had no idea what to do or say.

“All right.” I got to my feet as the waiters were clearing the soup bowls. I hung onto mine. Cream of celery was my favorite and I wasn’t finished. They weren’t taking it away until I was done. “I’ll choose Ollie. Not because he’s my favorite, but because I don’t want him to hurt you, Patrick.”

Everyone around the table snickered at that remark. They couldn’t disagree after comparing the two men.

Bobbie got to her feet, too. “That’s fine. I agree with Zoe that this is a really bad idea, but we’ll work through it. Let’s race.”

Everyone applauded. Patrick looked relieved. The sponsors sat back in their chairs, glad that their plan was moving ahead. Probably happy that the whole thing was almost over, too.

“And the second impossible, grueling aspect of tomorrow’s big finale.” Patrick slowed down and savored the suspense he hoped he was creating as the salad course was brought in. “Each of the teams will be given the food they’ll use to create their signature products tomorrow morning at the start of the Mobile challenge. So throw away all those ideas on what you planned to make.”

Bobbie groaned and put a hand to her forehead.

“That’s right,” Patrick continued. “Our sponsors, Gemini Foods, Caldwell Meats, and North Star Food Products, have devised suitable menus for both our food trucks. You’ll make the foods in your trucks as you have since Charlotte—I’ll bet that seems like a long time ago to all of you.”

Uncle Saul patted my hand. “It’s not gonna matter. You can still win this thing, Zoe.”

There was a bevy of prizes for the loser of the contest tomorrow. Of course, we both had our eye on the big prize. No one wanted to be the loser.

Bobbie sat several places up from me at the long table. I wondered what she had in mind to do with the money if she won. We hadn’t really talked despite spending a lot of time together the past few days.

I knew it wasn’t a good idea to start questioning if she deserved to win more than me, I realized as I finished my soup—delicious—and had to hold onto my arugula and peach salad so the waiters wouldn’t take that plate away.

Chef Art’s food was wonderful. His service left something to be desired.

The rest of the meal went without disruption. The main course was pasta with white dill sauce, vegetables, and fish. A small salmon pâté followed. Dessert was a surprise cherries jubilee. The flaming dish was brought into the always excited oohs and aahs of the appreciative diners.

Nothing says excitement like food that’s on fire. I’d have to remember that for my own restaurant.

Like the old-time Southern tradition, some of the men retired to their cigars and brandy in the library. The big difference was that the women retired to the garden behind the mansion for cocktails.

I found myself in the lighted garden seated beside Bobbie Shields. The sound of the water cascading into the beautiful, clear pool was a perfect foil for the perfumed blossoms that filled the night around us.

“You know my little girl won’t mess you up tomorrow, right?” Bobbie was frank and to the point, like always. “She’s not that way.”

“Of course. Delia and my uncle won’t do that to you, either.”

She grinned up at me after a long pull from her whiskey sour. “I didn’t know that tall fella was your uncle.”

“Yes. He used to be in the restaurant business. I’m sure he’ll do a good job for you.”

She nodded and lit up a cigarette. “What about that other fella with the tattoo? Will my baby be safe with him? I suppose you’ll send the two of them out to sell your biscuits.”

“She’ll be fine.”

“What happened to your outrider? I didn’t see him tonight.” She grinned at me. “He’s a good-looking fella. I wish he was coming with me tomorrow. He’s my type.”

“That’s Miguel.” I bit my lip to keep from saying something I might regret later. “He had to go back to work. He’s a lawyer here in Mobile.”