Zane didn't even look at her. “Because apparently management believes you need supervision.”
Melena frowned. “I don't need supervision.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She scoffed. “You can't be serious. That wasn't my fault.”
Zane raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
Nia covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Melena glared at her. “Don't encourage him.”
“Sorry,” Nia said, although she was still smiling.
The woman handed each team a basket and pointed toward the cooking stations set up beneath a row of wooden shelters. “Your station numbers are written on the front. Take your ingredients and equipment over there. You'll find aprons, gloves, knives, chopping boards, and everything else you need. Once you're ready, we'll start the timer.”
Melena grabbed the basket before anyon
