Worth the Risk

seconds for the words to register. She gazed around and realized she’d fallen asleep on the sofa. “What time is it?” she asked.
    “Almost seven,” Amber replied.
    Lexi walked toward the kitchen. “Did you eat?”
    “No.” Amber waved a sheet of paper in front of her. “I have my grades,” she said, joy bubbling in her voice.
    “Already?” Lexi knew the school year was drawing to a close, but didn’t expect a report card for a week or so.
    “They came out today. I got mine in homeroom,” Amber informed her with a smile.
    Good news, Lexi thought. Amber wouldn’t be this happy if she was failing a class. Her sister handed her the computer printout that served as a report card. Lexi scanned it, then reread it slowly.
    “Not bad, huh?”
    “Excellent. Really great, Amber. You pulled up your grades.”
    “Except for math. I’m going to get a head start on algebra by studying at home this summer.”
    Problem was—Amber didn’t have Lexi’s self-discipline. She had good intentions but no follow-through. She had to attend summer school.
    As if guessing her thoughts, Amber said, “I worked really hard this term to bring up my grades. I worked even harder after I found out about the contest. I’ll study at night after I work with Charmayne.”
    Lexi didn’t want an argument right now. After all, the report was good. Now was not the time to harp on Amber’s shortcomings. Or to suggest she might not win the contest.
    “There is bad news. I saved it for last.”
    Uh-oh, Lexi thought. “What’s wrong?”
    “Rick Fullerton is going to be one of the judges in the final round.”
    “That’s not so bad. I think he’ll be fair.”
    “Ha!” Amber grunted. “He isn’t buying as much from us, is he?”
    “No,” Lexi agreed. Rick had been giving her the cold shoulder since their meeting at Black Jack’s, but at least he was still buying some of her baby vegetables.
    “If I don’t win, will I have to go to summer school?”
    Lexi wanted to say losing might be a blessing in disguise, but she didn’t. No sense in burdening Amber with another worry. They could deal with this when the contest was over. “We’ll see. I’m not making any promises.”

    The next morning was Saturday, the busiest day for City Seeds. Chefs or their helpers appeared before she opened the gates. They were anxious to select produce for weekend specials. As usual Rick Fullerton was at the head of the line. He personally selected produce. Brad had been coming, too, but he wasn’t here yet.
    “Hi. Looking for anything special?” she asked Rick with her warmest smile.
    “Just looking,” he replied. After poking around for about half an hour, Rick left with two boxes of her best baby vegetables.
    There was still no sign of Brad, and she was a little concerned—not about him buying produce elsewhere. She was unnerved by how much she wanted to see him.
    The group had thinned as most chefs raced back to their kitchens. Her cell phone vibrated, and she pulled it out of her pocket. The caller-ID screen read, Black Jack. Brad was calling!
    “Hello.”
    “Hey,” he said in his husky voice. “How’s it going?”
    She mustered a level yet friendly tone. “Fine. Most of my regulars have already been here. I’m down to half a box of Asian red wave lettuce. You can have it if you want it.” She’d warned him that the heat was ending the season, so he wouldn’t be able to prepare his highly successful salad much longer.
    “I’ll take it. Got any of that baby squash left?”
    “Yes. Probably enough for the available lettuce.”
    “I’ll send someone by to pick up the produce.”
    “Okay,” she replied in a voice that seemed to come from some distance away. All she could think was that she wouldn’t get to see him for another week. How had she allowed this man to mean so much to her?
    “I’m giving the new sous-chef special training this morning. I should be through by three or so. Could I come by and take you with me to sample some gelato that I’m thinking of using?”
    A sigh of happiness nearly broke from her lips. “Sounds like fun.”

    “What do you think?” Brad asked as they sampled strawberry gelato at Gelato Paradiso. The Italian shop had been open for more than a year, but Lexi had never tried it.
    “Great.” She licked the ice cream in the waffle cone. “Sensational, actually.”
    “I’m thinking of cutting a deal with the owner to exclusively supply Black Jack’s with several flavors of