Ace looked up in time to see the woman’s face go from pleasantly surprised to angry.
His brows knit. Why on earth would a perfect stranger be mad—
Then it hit him. She wasn’t a perfect stranger. He might not have recognized her right away, but after really looking at her face for a few seconds, he began to see those familiar espresso-colored eyes, her juicy plum lips and her pert little nose.
“Oh my God. Ronnie? Is that you?”
Her features were just about the only things that hadn’t changed. Somehow his friend had gone from cuddly cutie to buxom bombshell. Her round face was more narrow and her waist more slim, but, thankfully, she still had those voluptuous curves where it counted.
She’d always been attractive, but facts were facts. Now she was hot. He had to force himself to look away before his ogling became cartoonish.
Her lips twitched, but not into the smile he was hoping for. “Oh, so now you recognize me.”
He sighed sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I was distracted. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, and I wasn’t expecting to run into you just now. But, you look fantastic and … I’m rambling, aren’t I,” he said, when her expression remained impassive.
She simply nodded.
Her rumpled clothing and slightly mussed topknot suggested that she’d had a rough flight. But Ace still couldn’t stop staring at her. The new Ronnie was a slice of perfection.
Dressed in hip-hugging caramel slacks, a scooped cherry-red tank and a butter-soft leather blazer the color of roasted peanuts, she looked good enough to top a hot fudge sundae. Her form-fitting clothes showed off her feminine curves.
She cleared her throat, and Ace pulled himself together. “I guess we were on the same flight. I should have realized when I made my connection at Dulles, but I didn’t see you on the plane.”
Ronnie rolled her eyes. “That’s because I was in coach.”
He frowned, confused. “Didn’t the show fly you—”
“Yes, but it’s a long story.” She picked up the handle onher rolling luggage and searched for the exit. “I guess I’ll see you at the hotel.”
Surprised by her dismal mood, Ace stared after her. Was she so upset just because he hadn’t recognized her right away? No, it had to be something else. Even though they’d been out of touch for a while, they’d been too close for something so petty to come between them.
Grabbing his luggage off the carousel, Ace headed toward the exit. To his relief, there was a driver outside holding a sign with his name on it. The man led him to a black sedan waiting at the curb and opened the door for him.
He slid across the seat and found a pleasant surprise. Ronnie was already in the car. “And we meet again.”
She nodded without her usual enthusiasm, and Ace knew he had to get to the bottom of this once and for all.
“It’s a short drive to the hotel. So you’d better talk fast.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Your long story. What happened on the plane? I can tell it’s put you in a bad mood. And Vegas is a party town. I can’t let you show up with the wrong attitude.”
With a heavy sigh, Ronnie said, “I’ve always been a nervous flyer, but I was actually looking forward to this trip. But when I boarded the plane and tried to claim my seat in first class, some guy was already sitting there. We called the flight attendant to sort it out. Apparently the flight was overbooked, and we were both given the same seat assignment.”
Ace shook his head. “So why didn’t the guy move?”
“Because of the age-old rule that applies in these situations.”
“What’s that?”
“Finders, keepers.” From there she described an uncomfortable ride in coach, wedged between a snoring businessman and a mother cradling a cranky newborn. “It might not have been so bad if the guy next to me hadn’t passed gas in his sleep during the entire fight.”
Ace reached for the complimentary bottle of champagne in the minibar in front of them. “Sounds like we need to put this trip back on the right track, starting with a glass of bubbly.”
He popped the cork, filled two flutes halfway and clinked glasses with her. “Here’s to a fantastic journey. And to winning.”
Ronnie clinked his glass, flashing her eyes at him mischievously. “It’s so kind of you to drink to my victory.”
Ace grinned, happy to see the sassy girl he knew returning. “Oh? You think you can beat me?”
“I know I can. I’ve changed a lot more than my dress size since I saw you last.”
Not sure if he should broach the subject, Ace couldn’t resist asking, “So what did make you decide to … get so fit? You always used to say that if you lost weight people would think your food wasn’t any good.”
“That’s another long story. One we don’t have time for now. Suffice it to say it was time. Besides, I’ve finally gotten to the point where my food speaks for itself.”
Ace saluted her with his glass. “I heard you opened a restaurant in Georgetown.”
“Crave. You should come by next time you’re in D.C. I might even give you a professional discount.”
“You don’t need to give me a discount,” he said, teasing. “I’ll just pay for my meal out of the prize money when I win.”
She cut her eyes to him. “Honey, I don’t know if you’re aware … but, there is no prize for second place.”
Ace threw his head back and laughed. He’d forgotten just how fiercely competitive they’d been in culinary school. Hearing her talk smack the way she used to was arousing his drive to win, among other things.
Winning hadn’t been his strongest motivation when he’d agreed to do the competition. He’d been more interested in trying out the new techniques he’d picked up on his European travels. But after five minutes in Ronnie’s presence, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to win just for the bragging rights.
“You’re so confident now,” he taunted, “but you may have gotten in over your head. It’s not just me you have to beat. You have the culinary queen, Etta Foster, to compete with. Not to mention Ann Le Marche and Stewart Compton. Are a fledgling restaurant and a couple of Food Fight wins enough to back up all your big talk?”
Ronnie drained her champagne glass. “Don’t you worry about me, Ace. My biggest advantage is that I’m the underdog. Underestimating me will be your downfall.”
Ace knew first hand not to underestimate Veronica Howard. She’d always been tenacious and eager to learn. He had no doubt that she would be good competition. But his reputation spoke for itself.
“I just want to make sure you haven’t forgotten just how things went down in culinary
