The school bus left the pavement after forty minutes and began shaking everything the seats had not already bruised.
Dust pushed through gaps around the windows.
The air-conditioning consisted of whatever entered with it.
Petrozza held his straw hat against his chest and watched rows of farmland replace the last strip mall.
“I’ve reconsidered,” he said.
“The unfortunate horse would be more comfortable.” Louross wiped his forehead with one sleeve.
“We haven’t even started.” “I prefer to complain before I become too tired to do it well.” Across the aisle, Ben stared at Craig.
Craig stared through the window.
Neither had spoken since the studio.
Matt had made up for both of them.
“Thirteen years,” he said again.
“Thirteen years in a kitchen.” “You said that five minutes ago,” Dominic replied.
“It’s still thirteen years.” “It’ll still be thirteen when we get there.” Bobby turned in the seat ahead of them.
“Save your breath.
We’re going to need it.” Matt looked at the back of Bobby’s head.
“You don’t get to give orders because you scored eight pieces nobody judged.” “I’m not giving an order.” “Sounded like one.” “Then stop listening.” The bus struck a rut hard enough to lift Petrozza’s hat from his hands.
Aurelio caught it against his knee before it reached the aisle and returned it.
“Thank you,” Petrozza said.
“I’ve become attached to the only part of this outfit that provides shade.” The bus turned through an open gate.
Long rows of pepper plants stretched over the field.
Green fruit hung beneath the leaves, interrupted by flashes of red and yellow.
Empty wooden crates waited beside the first rows.
The bus stopped.
Aurelio rose with the others but did not enter the aisle.
Craig had dropped one glove beside his seat and was searching beneath it.
Once Craig straightened and moved toward the door, Aurelio followed.
◆ Scott climbed onto the roof of the parked bus while the men gathered in the dirt below.
“Welcome to the farm!” he shouted.
Nobody answered.
“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” “THANK YOU, CHEF!” the men called back.
“There are one hundred acres out there!
You lost because you couldn’t respect one chicken, so now you’re going to respect every pepper you touch!
Twist at the stem, don’t rip the plants apart, and fill those crates!
MOVE!” The blue team scattered into the rows.
Bobby and Ben took the first.
Dominic pulled Louross toward the next before Louross could argue about the assignment.
Matt entered the third row.
Craig followed him.
Aurelio and Petrozza took the fourth.
The first pepper came free in Aurelio’s hand with a short turn of the wrist.
He placed it in the crate without throwing it.
The second resisted until he changed the angle.
Petrozza pulled one straight down.
A branch snapped.
“Twist,” Aurelio said.
“I did.” Petrozza tried again.
The pepper separated cleanly at the stem.
“I’m a farmer.” “You’ve picked two.” “An inexperienced farmer.” They moved down the row.
The heat gathered slowly.
It settled beneath collars, inside boots, and under the brims of the work hats.
Dust adhered wherever sweat reached.
Aurelio found a pace he could hold.
Twist.
Check.
Crate.
Move the crate.
Start again.
His body recovered from effort better than it should have.
It didn’t make him immune to the sun.
By the end of the first row, sweat had soaked the back of his shirt and his shoulders had begun to pull each time he reached through the plants.
He drank when the water came past.
Bobby worked faster.
Dominic had the cleanest hands.
Petrozza never became quick, but he stopped breaking stems.
Craig kept looking toward the cameras.
Ben noticed.
The first pepper struck Craig between the shoulder blades.
He turned.
“What the fuck?” Ben held up both empty hands.
“Six more of those and you’ve got a chicken.” Louross laughed before seeing Craig’s face.
“You think that’s funny?” Craig asked.
“A little.” Ben picked another pepper and tossed it underhand.
It struck Craig’s chest and fell into the dirt.
“Do it again,” Craig said.
“Cut a joint next time.” “BEN!” Bobby snapped.
Aurelio crossed only far enough to retrieve the fallen pepper.
Its skin had split where it struck the ground.
He placed it in the reject crate.
“If you’re going to throw one,” he said, “use one we can’t keep.” Ben looked at him.
“You’re defending Craig?” “I’m defending the pepper.” Petrozza bent over his crate, shoulders moving once with a laugh he tried to hide.
“NAVARRO!” Scott’s voice carried from the bus roof.
“STOP DISCUSSING THE PRODUCE AND PICK IT!” “YES, CHEF!” Aurelio returned to his row.
“And Ben!” Scott shouted.
“Throw another one and I’ll have you picking it up with your teeth!” “YES, CHEF!” Craig smirked.
“Craig, that wasn’t praise!
MOVE YOUR ARSE!” “YES, CHEF!” The rows swallowed them again.
◆ On Sunset Boulevard, the red team stepped out beneath the Saddle Ranch sign in clean clothes and makeup that had not yet surrendered to a kitchen.
Ramsay waited near the entrance.
“Ladies!
You butchered the men this morning, so I’m buying lunch!” Jen raised both hands.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” “Enjoy it,” Ramsay said.
“Because next service I want the same focus!
No games, no vendettas, and no bloody excuses!” Corey and Christina looked at one another.
“Yes, Chef,” Christina said.
“Good!
Now where’s the bull?” The mechanical bull occupied the center of the room beneath a ring of ropes and padded flooring.
A man in a cowboy hat was already riding when they entered.
He leaned too far, corrected, and held on while the machine turned beneath him.
Ramsay slowed.
“No.” The rider looked toward them.
Recognition reached both men at once.
“AARON!” Ramsay shouted.
Aaron Song came off the bull laughing.
Ramsay met him outside the padding and pulled him into a quick embrace.
“What are you doing here?” “I come here all the time!” Aaron said.
“Still crying?” “Nothing to cry about now.” Ramsay leaned back and looked at him as though the answer itself were suspicious.
“Who is this man, and what have you done with Aaron?” Aaron laughed harder.
Vanessa covered her mouth with one hand.
“He’s adorable.” Aaron wished the women luck before returning to his table.
Ramsay watched him go, still smiling.
“Right!
Who’s first?” The bull threw Jen in less time than she later claimed.
Rosann remained aboard long enough to wave once.
Vanessa screamed before the machine had completed its first turn.
Shayna gripped with both hands and refused to let go until the operator slowed it.
Corey and Christina rode back-to-back.
Neither asked the other how long she had lasted.
Both asked the operator.
◆ The men received water after the second set of rows.
Production placed them in the narrow shade of the bus one at a time for interviews.
Aurelio sat on an overturned crate with dirt along both forearms.
“Are you angry with Craig?” the producer asked.
“Yes.” “You don’t look angry.” “I’m tired.” “Ben looks angry.” “Ben wants everybody to know.” “Who deserves to go home?” Aurelio opened his water bottle.
“Ask me after service.” “Craig lost the challenge by himself.” “Then he already lost it.
Sending him home for that won’t finish tomorrow’s tickets.” “So the challenge shouldn’t matter?” “It should matter once.” He drank.
“Can you give us more?” “There are peppers outside.” The producer lowered her question card.
“You know, most contestants try to stay in this chair.” “They can have my turn.” Aurelio stood and returned to the field.
Craig took the seat after him.
“They blame me for everything,” Craig said before the producer asked a question.
“One challenge, and suddenly they act like they’ve never made a mistake.” The camera tightened.
“Who blames you most?” “Ben.
Matt.
Bobby when he wants to pretend he’s still the general.” “What about Navarro?” Craig glanced toward the field.
“He thinks he’s above it.” ◆ Lunch arrived on heavy plates at Saddle Ranch.
For several minutes, the women ate instead of speaking.
Winning tasted better after two failed services.
Ramsay moved to the far end of the table to speak with Rosann and Shayna.
At the other end, Jen leaned toward Christina.
“Ben first,” she said.
“Craig first,” Rosann answered from farther down.
“He just gave them a hundred acres of peppers.” “Craig isn’t the threat,” Corey said.
“Weak men still lose services,” Jen replied.
Christina cut into her lunch.
“Ben talks like he’s running them.
Bobby wants to run them.
Craig wants someone to blame.
We don’t have to decide who goes first if they do it for us.” Corey studied her.
“Now you want strategy.” “I want information.” “Same thing with better manners.” Vanessa looked toward Ramsay before lowering her voice.
“What about Navarro?” No one answered immediately.
“He watches everybody,” Corey said.
“But he doesn’t give anything back.” “Petrozza gets him talking,” Christina said.
“Then ask Petrozza.” “That obvious?” Jen asked.
Corey smiled.
“Men talk when they think the conversation was their idea.” Christina held her gaze.
“And what do you suggest?” Corey glanced toward the restaurant patio.
“Tonight?
We let them think they’re winning.” ◆ The last hour in the field took longer than the first two.
Matt stopped talking.
Ben stopped throwing.
Even Louross saved his breath between rows.
Aurelio’s lower back tightened whenever he lifted a full crate.
The tension eased after he straightened, but it returned with the next one.
Good conditioning let him keep moving.
It did not make the crate lighter.
Petrozza stared at the row ahead of them.
“Tell me that’s the last one.” “It’s the last one.” “Is that true?” “No.” “You need to commit to the lie.” Aurelio lifted his end of the crate.
“One more after this.” Petrozza took the other handle.
“Better.” They carried it toward the bus.
Scott climbed down from the roof and checked the final load.
He lifted peppers from three different crates, looking for torn stems and bruised skins.
“Not terrible,” he said.
Several men looked at him.
“That is not a compliment!
Load the bus!” They obeyed.
Aurelio climbed aboard after the last crate had been secured.
He paused beside the driver while the others settled, looked once toward the empty field, and continued down the aisle.
Petrozza had saved him a seat.
“I’ve decided farming is a noble profession,” Petrozza said.
“You changing careers?” “No.
I respect it too much.” The bus lurched toward the road.
Petrozza closed his eyes before they reached the gate.
◆ The women returned first.
By the time the blue bus reached Hell’s Kitchen, music was playing on the patio and Corey, Christina, Jen, and Vanessa were already in the hot tub.
A bucket of beer sat beside the water.
Plates of fries and sliders waited on the table.
The men entered through the dorm doors wearing dust from their collars to their boots.
“Ben,” Corey called.
“Come get in.” Ben stopped.
“No.” “There’s beer.” “I can see it.” “Then what are you afraid of?” Corey rested both arms along the edge of the tub.
She did not need to raise her voice.
The camera beside the patio door had already found the angle she wanted.
“You put two of your strongest cooks up because you wanted to play a game,” Ben said.
“I’m not stupid enough to get into one with you.” “You gave me a high five last night.” “Before I had time to think about it.” “That must take a while.” Jen laughed.
Ben’s expression hardened.
“Use somebody else.” He walked toward the showers.
Corey looked past him.
“Craig?” Craig stopped beside the patio door.
Matt made a sound behind him.
“Don’t,” Ben called without turning back.
Craig looked toward the hall where Ben had disappeared.
“He doesn’t tell me what to do.” “Good,” Corey said.
“Get in.” “Give me a minute.” Craig disappeared into the dorm.
He returned in black swim trunks with his dusty work clothes folded beneath one arm, left them over a chair, and climbed into the water.
Christina handed him a beer.
“Rough day?” “Wouldn’t have been if everybody stopped bitching.” “They blamed you?” Vanessa asked.
“All day.” Corey opened the bottle for him against the metal opener mounted beside the tub.
“Who was worst?” Craig drank before answering.
“Ben.
Matt too.
Bobby acts like he’s above it, but he’s pissed because he thinks he should still be captain.” “Who is captain?” Christina asked.
“Nobody.” “Somebody calls the kitchen.” “Bobby calls until somebody ignores him.
Navarro says three words and everybody thinks it’s wisdom.” Corey’s eyes shifted toward the dorm doorway.
Aurelio stood there with two glasses of water.
Petrozza waited behind him, one hand pressed against his lower back.
“Navarro,” Corey said.
“You coming in?” “No.” “Afraid you’ll tell us something?” “I’m afraid Petrozza will fall asleep in the water.” “A reasonable fear,” Petrozza said.
Aurelio handed him one of the glasses.
“You could stay without him.” “I could.” Corey waited.
“I’m not going to,” Aurelio said.
He and Petrozza continued inside.
Craig watched them leave.
“See?
He does that.” “Does what?” Jen asked.
“Makes you feel stupid without saying anything.” Christina took a drink to hide her reaction.
“What happens tomorrow?” Corey asked.
“We cook.” “On which stations?” “We don’t know yet.” “Who do you want beside you?” Craig looked at the beer in his hand.
“Petrozza doesn’t panic.
Dominic knows fish.
Louross moves.
Navarro catches everything.” “And Ben?” “Ben runs his mouth.” The patio door opened again.
Ben had returned before showering.
“Nice,” he said.
“You lose the challenge, then give the women a team briefing.” “I didn’t tell them anything.” “You just listed half the team.” “They already know our names.” “Get out of the tub.” Craig stood in the water.
“You’re not my boss.” “No.
If I were, you wouldn’t be on appetizers tomorrow.” The patio went quiet.
“Who said I’m on appetizers?” Craig asked.
“Bobby wants you studying it.” “Then Bobby can tell me.” “He did.
On the bus.
You were too busy feeling sorry for yourself.” Craig climbed out, water running from his shorts onto the patio.
“Say it again.” Ben stepped closer.
Aurelio returned through the door without Petrozza.
“Stop.” Neither man looked at him.
“He ratted us out,” Ben said.
“They heard you blame him in the dorm, on the bus, and in the field.” “That’s not the point.” “Then make the point without fighting beside a hot tub.” Craig snatched a towel from the chair.
“Tell him to stay out of my face.” “I wasn’t in your face,” Ben said.
“I was in the doorway.” “BEN!” Bobby’s voice came from inside.
“Leave it!” Ben looked toward the hall.
“Tomorrow we stop losing,” he said.
“That means no flirting, no secrets, and no dead weight.” He went inside.
Craig wrapped the towel around his shoulders.
“He wants me gone.” “Then make him wrong,” Aurelio said.
“You think I can?” The question came out quieter than Craig intended.
“I think you have appetizers to study.” Craig held Aurelio’s gaze for a moment, then picked up his work clothes and followed the others.
◆ Production kept the women on the patio for interviews after the men went inside.
Corey sat in the confessional with dry clothes and wet hair.
“Ben thought he was too smart to fall for it,” she said.
“Fine.
Craig wanted somebody to tell him the loss wasn’t his fault.
We didn’t even have to lie.
We gave him a beer and let him complain.” The producer asked whether working with Christina changed anything between them.
“No.
She’s still competition.” Christina entered the same room twenty minutes later.
“Corey is manipulative,” she said.
“Today, I used that.
It doesn’t mean I trust her.
It means I’m not going to let her be the only person on this team who understands the game.” In the dorm, Craig opened the menu binder to appetizers.
Ben lay on his bed facing the wall.
Matt told Bobby, in detail, why he would have handled the confrontation differently.
Dominic showered pepper-field dust from his hair.
Louross discovered dirt inside one shoe and blamed the bus.
Petrozza sat at the common-room table with both feet in a basin of cold water.
Aurelio set the appetizer list in front of Craig.
“Risotto,” he said.
“Rice, stock, wine, Parmesan, butter.” “That’s a grocery list.” “You asked what was in it.” “I asked for the dish.” Craig stared at the page.
“You always do this?” “Until the answer survives when someone yells at you.” From the red bedroom, Jen’s voice carried through the open door.
“They’re studying.” Corey answered her.
“Let them.” Christina looked toward the wall separating the rooms and listened to Craig miss the garnish a second time.
“We don’t have to split them,” Jen said.
On the other side, Ben told Craig to speak louder.
Craig told Ben to go to hell.
Bobby told both of them to shut up.
Christina closed her menu binder.
“No,” she said.
“They’re doing that themselves.”