"Are you ready to rumble?" Chef Jake Sawyer asked the question in a booming sports-announcer voice. The Chicken Soup Showdown would begin in a few hours, and Amy was ready. Or at least she kept telling herself she was ready in a fake it until you make it kind of way as she walked around the civic arena and tried to enjoy the Eat Local Expo. Chef Jake pointed the faux microphone, a wooden spoon, toward her. "Who's going to take down the egomaniac, Chef Britton?"

Amy smiled at the pro wrestling-style commentary. Chef Jake had delivered the questions with a smile and a wink, but there was a sharp edge to his description of their rival. The afternoon could get very interesting. What she had thought would be a friendly charity competition might not be so friendly after all. She had no idea what an amped-up wrestler sounded like, so she just answered in a normal tone of voice. "I have no idea who will win. I think we're all pretty evenly matched teams."

"Very diplomatic. I think you are a nicer person than I am." He swept his arm over the array of food samples on the table between them. "Would you like to try something?"

"I would love to." She studied the display for Nibbles & Noshes restaurant, Jake's foodie business baby. On the white linen tablecloth, small cups of walleye ceviche were lined up beside glistening cubes of braised beef short rib on tiny plates. She selected the fish, flecked with bits of purple onion and green jalapeños. The ceviche was perfectly tangy and spicy. She held up the empty cup in a toast. "Mmm…I could make a meal of this. I'm sure you've been busy keeping up with the demand for samples. Are you ready for the showdown, especially the talking-to-the-crowd part?"

He nodded and flashed another toothpaste commercial- worthy smile. His dark hair was twisted into a small knot on the back of his head. He had a full, closely trimmed beard and sapphire blue eyes that glittered in the harsh arena lighting. In short, he was so hot he could melt a stick of butter by looking at it, despite having dark moons under his eyes. Prepping for the Eat Local Expo must've been exhausting. He rolled his eyes and said, "I'm going to pretend it's just another dinner shift. I figure if I focus on one person, like I'm talking just to them, I won't get stage fright and freeze up. Are you ready to cook a meal in the spotlights?"

She had been trying to forget about the fact that they were going to be cooking in the theater at one end of the civic arena. It had 500 seats. Considering the event had sold out weeks earlier, whenever she thought about it, the nervous butterflies in her stomach turned into giant bats. So she and her best friend, Carla, were wandering around the expo, munching on food samples while Amy tried to distract herself from worrying. Hopefully her stomach would stop grumbling and settle down soon so she could concentrate on making soup and a salad for the competition. "I'm ready, but the audience-participation thing is freaking me out too. We're really supposed to try to get the audience wound up like they're at a game show? I'm not used to being a cheerleader while I cook. Rah, rah…I'm putting chopped celery in the pot."

He nodded as he chuckled and handed her a short rib sample. "I've cooked in worse situations. As long as Britton doesn't win, I don't care what happens. His partner from the herb farm seems really nice, but he's going down."

"Do you think so?"

"Hell yes. Believe me, there will be nothing better than watching Britton get taken out by one of the underlings he tortured."