Pedaling hard to keep up with Josh, I say, "Candice tells me she doesn't like mountain biking."

Candice told me a lot of things in our two-hour pre-termination interview. If this keeps up, I'll have to increase my rate to fifty dollars because of the time involved.

"It's true, she hates it," he says, riding his bike down a set of stairs while I cautiously inch down a ramp with my brakes on.

"But I guess she's willing to get on her bike anyway, just because you like it?" I ask, when we're side by side again.

Josh laughs. "Are you kidding? She won't come with me and she hates my going without her. So this is the first time I've been on my bike in a month. I was glad she asked me to take you for a spin."

Picking up speed as we approach a stream, he glides right through it. Water sprays up on either side of him in two gleaming arcs. He waits on the other side as I cross the bridge. Seeing him mud-streaked and happy, it's doubly hard to deliver the death blow. But deliver it I must. I'm a detached professional now.

"I've got something to tell you, Josh," I say. "From now on, you can spend as many hours on that bike as you want."

Josh's face falls and he slows to a crawl that nearly topples us both. "What do you mean? Has Candice met another guy?"

"Not at all." Fortunately, I've anticipated this line of questioning and launch into my prepared speech about how she wants him to be happy with someone who shares his interests.

Josh stops. "So you're saying she'd rather have no one than be with me?"

*Tasting Note: Test all arguments carefully before serving.

I summarize my opening argument: "When you really break it down, Daniela, Stephan's doing you a favor."

"Really." Daniela stares at me in the mirror as she hooks a ballet slipper over the barre. "I'm getting dumped four hours before a big recital and he's doing me a favor."

I cannot believe Stephan failed to mention the recital in our pre-termination interview. Since it's too late to go back, I forge ahead.

"Doesn't that prove he's the wrong guy for you?" I grab onto the barre myself and stretch out my lower back. It's tightened up since the bike ride. "You deserve someone who understands how important ballet is to you. No guy should come between a girl and her tutu."

"I guess." Daniela repositions her feet and swoops down into a deep and painful-looking knee bend. She pops back up and grabs my arm. "Oh my god. You think ballet's too important in my life. Stephan always said I cared more about dancing than I cared about him. This is all my fault. I should blow off the recital tonight to prove what's more important."

*Tasting Note: Don't put too much emphasis on one specific flavor.

"Being committed to something is not the same as being obsessed," I tell Tamzin, blocking her as she leaps off the piano bench. "Any guy worth committing to would appreciate that."

"But he thinks I'm one-dimensional. He says I never spend enough time with him. That must be why he's dumping me."

"If Drew can't celebrate your talent, he doesn't deserve you. Don't let his selfishness distract you from your goal. You've been working toward Juilliard since you were ten."

"Three," Tamzin says, sitting back down. "And you're right, I can't blow that off. No guy is worth it."

"Good for you," I say, relieved. "Just focus on those keys. Don't give another thought to Drew's reasons."

Tamzin's face collapses. "There was more than one?"

*Tasting Note: Get out of the kitchen as soon as the dish is done.

Sawyer drags the squeegee across the car windshield and laughs. "Have you got a camera hidden somewhere? My girl would never dump me."

"Sawyer, I'm sorry to say that she doesn't love you anymore."

"That's crazy talk."

I trail after him as he moves to the next car and removes the gas cap. "It's not. She paid for my services."

"Yeah, right. More like, she paid you to punk me. Well, if you're going to joke around, at least make yourself useful." Sawyer takes the nozzle out of the holder and passes it to me.

"But I don't know how..."

"Just squeeze. The gas will stop when the tank is full."

I do as he says. "This isn't a joke, Sawyer. Your girl wants out."

He opens the car's hood to check the oil. "Oh yeah? Then tell me why."

I try to remember her reasons, but termination details are starting to run together in my head and with my hands full, I can't pull out my notebook. "She says you don't have the same taste in movies or music. And you never try to surprise her anymore." The smell of gasoline makes it hard to concentrate. "Plus you, uh, hate dancing."

"So? All guys hate dancing."

Time to bring out the big guns. "I'm afraid she's met someone who likes it."

Sawyer jams the dipstick back into the reservoir and slams the hood of the car shut. "Who?"

Good question. I search my fume-swamped brain for the answer. "John?"

Sawyer's eyes bulge. "Her brother?"

Oops. "I mean Bryce. They walk their dogs together."

"Kristin doesn't have a dog."

"Kristin?" Crap. "I thought Nicole was your girl."

*Tasting Note: Make sure you have the correct seasoning before adding it to the mix.

"These are the best ribs I've ever tasted, Clark," I say.

"The best in Austin," he says, laying another rack on the grill.

My new policy of reviewing client information immediately before each dump has made things go more smoothly. Instead of shooting the messenger, Clark is feeding her. In fact, I've almost nailed the part of my process where I help the dumpee see that the relationship is better off over.

Clark wipes his hands on his apron and sighs. "I've been with Kelsey so long I thought we'd go the distance."

"You've both changed since you met in sixth grade," I say, licking my fingers.

Clark adjusts the bandana that's tied around his head, pirate style. "You're right about that. Kelsey and I used to talk about getting married and taking over The BBQ Pit from my dad. But last year she decided to become a vegan and wants to move to California instead." He gestures across the smoke-filled kitchen with his tongs. "Can you believe she'd want to give this all up?"

"Grilling meat for the rest of her life wouldn't work for a vegan - even if it's the best grilled meat in Austin."

"I figured it was just a phase," he says. "I've been trying to talk her out of it."

"You can't change the facts, Clark. You can only change how you react to them."

He turns and it's like light bulb went off. "Oh I get it. You're saying I should turn this into a Veggie Pit?"

"No, that's not--"

"But you think I should give up my dreams for hers?"

"No!"

Clark hops onto the counter and rips off his apron. "Dad, I'm moving to California!"

*Tasting Note: When separating two ingredients, make sure they can't be accidentally remixed.

"Ouch!"

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Vondra throws her club down on the green and rushes over to me. "I swear I didn't mean to hit you."

"It's okay." I rub my shoulder where the golf ball has left a red welt. "It proves my point. No matter how much Perry loves golf, this isn't your sport."

Vondra picks up the club and jams it into her golf bag. "To think I've given up Saturdays at all the mall all summer for this. For him."

I begin spinning out the positive. "Now you can take back the mall."

"Then there were the Sunday afternoons I wanted to hang at the pool," she says, wheeling her bag off the green. "But I was stuck inside watching golf on TV."

"Take back the pool!" I pump my first into the air to boost her spirits.

"I have to wear these goofy clothes," she says, indicating her argyle polo shirt and Bermuda shorts.

"Take back the cut offs!"

I cheer for her, but I'm also cheering for me. After hitting a few snags, I'm getting pretty good at this. Plus, I'm shaving minutes off my time.

"Yeah," she says, with more conviction. "No more nerdy golf shoes."

"No more getting up at the crack of dawn on weekends," I say. "No more evenings at the driving range. No more golf pro's getting too close. No more e-mails with YouTube golf links."

"No more Perry," Vondra wails, and collapses on the green. "I'm alone."

*Tasting note: Don't over-agitate your batter.

"But I like all of those things," Abby says, when I list the activities Brad loves that she can now give up.

This was going so well. I laid out my argument, tactfully highlighting the cracks in their relationship, and helping Abby to see that she hasn't done anything wrong. I convinced her quite easily that she can't change Brad's mind and that the only thing she can control is her own destiny. But when I tried to get her excited about a new life for herself we hit a wall.

"Seriously, Abby," I whisper, as we hover near the back of the comedy club where she works as a waitress. "You like skeet shooting?"

"Yeah, and I'm pretty good at it," she says.

"And stock car racing?"

"Don't knock it until you've felt the buzz."

"Fine, but you can't expect me to believe you enjoy building amateur rockets."

"I won best launch at the last competition," Abby says. "Look, I hear you that the magic's gone with Brad. I think the reason we hung on so long is because we do enjoy the same things."

"Well, you can continue doing them but it might make you sad for awhile. Wouldn't it be better to try something new? Something all your own?"

"Well, there is one thing I've been thinking about." She gestures to the stage, where a string of performers have been filing through for an all-ages amateur night.

"You want to try stand-up?"

"I know, its nuts," she says. "I'd never have the guts."

"Of course you have. You don't need Brad to try new things."

"Well, not tonight. I've just been dumped."

The wannabe comic on stage overhears this. "So you've been dumped, little girl? Just thank your lucky stars you're young and single. Wait till you're old and married and there's no escape. Last week, my wife said, 'Rob, I am never having sex with you again.'"

Abby shouts back, "Have you tried showering?"

"What do you know about sex?" he counters.

"I know it can be dangerous," Abby says. "Look what happened when your parents got together."

The audience cracks up and she continues. "But my experience is limited. My ex-boyfriend's idea of romance was watching football with the lights off. And after a year together, he was finally comfortable enough to say those three words every girl is dying to hear, 'I've got gas'."

The comic beckons and Abby joins him onstage. Soon she's trading relationship jokes with Rob as easily as I might whip up a batch of cookies.

"Thank you for dumping me," she says, when she's done and gives me a big hug. "If you hadn't come tonight, this never would have happened."

*Tasting Note: Spend enough time in the test kitchen and eventually you'll plate up the perfect dish.