For the Love of Cake (16 page)

So when they passed the gay bar she’d gone to, she offered a safe topic of conversation. “I was not impressed with that place at all.” She pointed at the sign.

“You went
there
?” Shannon looked at her, obviously surprised.

“Yep. Something wrong with it?”

Shannon bit her lip. “Not really. It’s just not my scene. I’m a little too old for the place. But you wouldn’t have that problem.”

“Yeah, you mentioned how young I am.” She didn’t care that she sounded like a spoiled brat.

“Maya, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.” She waved a hand between them. “I don’t want—” She sighed in frustration. She’d thought after the time they’d spent together, Shannon would see her differently than everyone else did. But perhaps she’d manufactured that connection between them. Was it just pride that kept her from being honest with Shannon? Maybe she wanted Shannon to inherently see through her usual act. Was that too much to ask?

After another stretch of tense silence, Shannon said, “So what didn’t you like about it?”

Maya shrugged. “I guess it’s not my thing either.”

“Not big enough for you?”

“Why do you say that?”

“I imagine you’re used to bigger places, more lights, louder music, and a better show.”

“I’ve been in my share of those establishments.” She had to admit the truth, but that didn’t mean she was one-dimensional. “But actually, I’m more of a beer-and-pool-tables kind of girl these days.”

“Hey, there’s my bakery,” Shannon said as they passed Drake’s Desserts.

“I know.”

“That was in my bio, huh?”

“Actually, yes.” She glanced at the driver, but he didn’t appear to be listening to them. She lowered her voice anyway. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but I’ve been there.”

“Drake’s? Really?”

Maya nodded.

“When?”

“A few days ago. I passed by and couldn’t help myself.”

Shannon nodded. “It’s next to impossible for me to pass a bakery and not go inside. Could you get in trouble for that?”

Maya shrugged. “It wasn’t specifically addressed. But I’m sure it’s not encouraged. I even met your boss.”

“Jori?”

“Yes. I felt bad, but I couldn’t tell her how you were doing.”

“She knew you couldn’t. I’m surprised she asked. She’s a by-the-book kind of person.”

“That must be why you two get along,” Maya said. “It was more of an off-hand inquiry really.”

“We are alike in a lot of ways, yes.”

“She’s gorgeous.” Another way you’re alike, Maya thought as Shannon’s gaze clashed with hers across the small backseat.

“She is. She’s also very much taken.” Again, cautious assessment filled Shannon’s expression, and Maya had the feeling once more that she wouldn’t come out favorably.

“I noticed the ring.”

“Her partner, Sawyer Drake, runs the restaurant next door with her family.”

“Hence the name.”

“Exactly. They’re both pretty amazing.”

“Out of curiosity, why the emphasis on telling me your boss is taken?” The strain in Maya’s voice was like a garrote on her throat, strangling the question that she almost didn’t want answered. She didn’t want to hear that Shannon thought she was just a player with no integrity.

“I don’t know. You made a point of saying how gorgeous she is.”

“So it follows that I want to sleep with her. Because you read in some magazine that I’m such a slut.”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that.”

“But you were thinking it. The tabloids say I’m a player so it must be true.”

“Isn’t it?” Shannon’s words carried a hard edge that cut through her indignation.

Maya didn’t really have a right to be angry about a reputation she’d earned. Sure, the press exaggerated their stories, but they were based, at least in part, in truth.

The car pulled to a stop in front of their hotel, not a moment too soon for Maya. She jumped out and, forgoing chivalry this time, left Shannon to get her own door. She strode through the hotel doors and across the lobby. But Shannon caught up with her at the elevators. Maya stared up at the display, watching the numbers until the car reached the lobby. When the doors slid open, she stepped inside and Shannon followed.

“Thank you for the tutoring session. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else,” Shannon said quietly from her side of the elevator. “I’m sorry things got—um, tense. That’s not how I wanted it to go.”

Maya sighed, feeling like an ass. She’d been enjoying their time together. Then she’d overreacted to Shannon’s comment about having kids, and the evening had disintegrated from there.

“I’m sorry, too. I’m obviously sensitive about how much of my business is out there for the world to see. I just have to remind myself that it comes with the territory.”

“I didn’t intend to invade your privacy. But clearly I’m a fan, and maybe I read too many magazines. Even now, it’s surreal to me that we’re having this conversation.”

“Why?”

“I’ve admired you—um, your work for a long time. But before this month, I never dreamed I’d get the opportunity to meet you, not to mention spend as much time personally with you as I have.”

“But you have. I’ve been alone with you more than I have anyone other than my assistant in months.” And more than she’d wanted to be with anyone in even longer. She stopped short of asking Shannon to look deeper than the magazine articles, because the idea of having to ask made her feel weak.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Maya moved forward and stuck out her hand to hold the door just as Shannon stepped into the center of the small space. Maya grasped Shannon’s waist with her free hand to steady them both. Since they were nearly the same height, their eyes met naturally, though Shannon flicked hers to Maya’s lips and back twice. Maya swayed toward her, intent on erasing the remaining inches between them.

“This is me,” Shannon whispered as she pressed her hand to the center of Maya’s chest, halting any forward movement.

“I’m on fourteen. You could come up.” Maya issued the invitation before she had time to consider its prudence. But her brain seemed to have given up control of the situation, taking with it all of the reasons she’d been irritated with Shannon a short time ago.

“That’s not a good idea.”

Maya glanced down at Shannon’s hand, still flattened against the center of her chest. “You know, this is the second time you’ve said those words to me, while touching me in exactly that manner. And if it’s meant to be a deterrent, it doesn’t work.”

“No?”

“No.” She leaned closer, now only a breath from kissing Shannon. “It only makes me think of all of the other ways I want you to touch me.”

“Oh, God.”

The words escaped on a moan so low and hungry she was certain Shannon hadn’t meant to say them aloud.

Maya released the door, letting it close, wrapped her arm around Shannon’s waist, and pulled her in. When their lips met, Shannon’s response was instant and as hot as the need that flared within Maya. Shannon traced her lower lip with her tongue and she met it with hers, dizzy with the taste and feel of her. Needing an anchor, she pushed Shannon against the wall of the elevator and braced her hands against the paneling on either side of her hips to absorb the impact. She pressed the full length of her body against Shannon’s, trapping Shannon’s hand between them, still flat against her chest. Shannon pushed against her, and disappointment flooded Maya as she thought Shannon would break the embrace. Instead, Shannon freed her hand, wrapped her fingers around the back of Maya’s neck, and pulled her in for more. Maya moaned into her mouth as they stroked and gasped and held tight to each other.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open on Maya’s floor. Shannon jerked her mouth free.

“This is you.” Shannon’s panting breath teased Maya’s sensitive lips.

“You could still come in.” She wanted her to, so badly.

“This is you.” Shannon repeated, walking her backward out of the elevator. She pulled free and stepped back inside, leaving Maya on the outside alone as the doors slid shut between them.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

Maya stretched out on the sofa in her dressing room and rubbed her head. That spot over her left eye had been throbbing all morning, so during the first break in filming she’d fled the set. The competitors had been sent on a field trip of sorts, to a local restaurant specializing in an upscale twist on Southern cuisine. After they returned, the afternoon’s challenge featured putting their own stamp on a classic Southern dessert.

For now, Maya planned to soak in every moment of silence she could, in hopes that the medication she’d taken fifteen minutes ago would kick in soon. She would never visit the South in the spring again. She’d grown up in the Northeast and, until now, experienced minimal issues with allergies, but the Tennessee pollen count had her praying for relief from the pressure pounding in her head.

After their kiss the night before, Maya had gone to bed to the most pleasant and frustrating dreams. She’d awakened with a feeling of anticipation and lack of fulfillment that she rather enjoyed. For a few minutes in that elevator, logic had left them both and all the reasons she constructed that they couldn’t be together fell away. But when Shannon had stepped back and left her there alone in the hallway, they rushed back. She’d let herself into her hotel room with self-doubt weighing heavily on her shoulders. Shannon was a commitment kind of woman, and Maya hadn’t done committed in years. She didn’t think she’d be very good at it. Besides, in a matter of weeks, the show would be over and they’d each return to their life.

It had been so long since Maya felt this tangled up over anyone. She’d been celibate for a year, and even before that, when she did get physical, she was going through the motions. Sure, she could do what needed to be done, but she didn’t feel much beyond that. With Shannon, she’d coiled so tightly so quickly, and she kind of liked not knowing when she might get to release that tension. She’d stayed in bed this morning as long as she could without being late for her morning call. It wasn’t until she got up and tried to move around that the congestion fogging her head had started to take hold.

She’d arrived on set, hoping to catch Shannon alone for a moment to gauge how she felt about last night. But she hadn’t been granted more than a quick glance across the room of competitors and crew, and Shannon’s expression had been unreadable. Hugh had sent them off before she could catch her in conversation.

So with the rest of the morning off, she’d retired to her dressing room. Before she could really get settled, a sharp knock sounded on her door. She didn’t open her eyes even as the door swung open.

“I brought you some coffee. Just how you like it,” Hugh said as he set a take-out coffee cup on the table next to her and dropped into the opposite chair.

“You still remember how I take it?”

“Sure. I got a lot of coffee while I was paying my dues seven years ago, and I remember every order.”

“Or you bribed a production assistant to tell you.” Maya sat up, swung her legs over the edge, and leaned back into the leather cushion behind her. She squeezed her eyelids shut, then forced them open again, but she didn’t reach for the coffee yet. Some of the ache behind her eyes might have eased. It might hurt just a little less. She took a deep breath and, moving slowly, sat forward to pick up the cup. She took a careful sip and sighed.

“Ah, nice. Thank you.” The hot liquid soothed her scratchy throat.

“You’ve got a couple of hours until they’re back. Did you take anything?”

“Yes. I think it’s starting to work, but my head’s still pretty full.”

“Great. Listen, I need to talk to you about something.” Hugh had his business face on, familiarity giving way to professional detachment.

“Shoot.”

“We’ve been watching the dailies.” Now he seemed uncomfortable. “I—we need the old Maya back.”

“The old Maya?”

“The hardcore, take-no-prisoners chef I met in season one.”

Maya laughed. “Okay, maybe I’ve mellowed a little, but—”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t sell mellow-Maya to the producers. I told them you’d kick these kids’ asses.” He stood and paced the tiny space between his chair and her sofa.

“Hugh—”

“We need the ratings, and airing a mediocre cake competition isn’t going to do it. I need some tension, some drama. Just give me a little more of your rough edges, okay?” His voice rose and the cadence of his words sped up until he ended at a high-pitched squeal.

“Stop squawking before my head splits open.” She clasped her hands on either side of her head. “I didn’t agree to do the show to be a puppet.”

“I put myself out there for you. With all your bad press this year, the producers didn’t want to take you on. I talked them into it. I told them you’d make the difference on the show.”

She stiffened when he mentioned her media coverage. They’d never talked specifically about what had happened, and she didn’t feel she owed him an explanation. But he’d gotten her here and unknowingly given her a place to hide—from the spotlight and from herself. She threw her hands up. “I’ll try to be tougher on them.”

“Thank you. If this season doesn’t do well—”

“I said I’ll try.” She sipped her coffee. Just because it was part of an apparent guilt trip, she didn’t intend to let it go to waste.

“Good. Get some rest. I’ll send someone when we’re ready for you on set later.”

She leaned back and closed her eyes once again, trying to relax as she heard the click of Hugh closing the door carefully behind him. If this headache didn’t abate, being grouchy and critical would definitely come a little easier this afternoon.

*

“Time’s up,” Eric called.

Shannon stepped back from her workstation, convinced she wouldn’t win this challenge. Her red-velvet cheesecake tasted good, but it hadn’t set as well as she wanted so her presentation looked sloppy.

The mentors started their critiques a few workstations away.

“Your flavors are bland and the texture isn’t good, too grainy. I think you might be in trouble today.” Maya’s voice carried down the row of chefs. Shannon felt sorry for the chef cowering under her sharp gaze.