For the Love of Cake (19 page)

“Don’t go,” Maya said, jumping up from the ball. Shannon paused with her hand on the door. “Stay and talk to me for a bit.”

“Put your shirt back on,” Shannon said stiffly.

Maya grabbed her shirt and pulled it over her head. She’d pushed far enough. And honestly, she didn’t even know why she was doing that, except that she enjoyed seeing Shannon as flustered as she felt.

Shannon sighed, then retrieved another exercise ball and rolled it over next to hers. They sank down onto them together, bouncing a little as they got settled.

“So, was something wrong today, other than your sinus issues?” Shannon asked.

“No.” A little white lie.

“You seemed, ah, more brusque than usual.”

“Maybe I was just more honest. I’ve been taking it easy on you guys.”

“Yeah?”

“We’re mentors and judges, Shannon. We’re not here to be friendly. We’re here to make you better chefs.”

“Really? Because it seems like you’re trying to be friendly now.” Shannon rolled back and forth slightly on her ball, as if the rocking motion soothed her. But watching the muscles flex in her thighs under the tight yoga pants didn’t calm Maya in the least.

“I’m not working right now.”

“I figured with reality television, you pretty much had to always be working.”

“Yeah. I don’t like that part of it.” Bitterness seeped into her voice as she thought about the other aspects of the business she’d discovered she didn’t like today.

“So you ignore the rules?” Her tone indicated that she thought this was how Maya lived all areas of her life. “Or just the ones you don’t like?”

She shrugged. “If the producers were that worried about what we did at night, they’d have cameramen prowling the hallways. Come to think of it, we should probably be on the lookout for that.”

“If you hadn’t already seemed in an ill mood, I might have thought it had to do with Lucia’s elimination. You didn’t seem happy about that.”

“I wasn’t happy to be sending anyone from my team home. But Lucia was my choice.”

“Well, something felt off about it all. Now that I think about it, the only person more on edge in there was Hugh.”

Maya cringed, then hurried to change the course of the conversation. “More than you three? Did you think you were safe?”

“Apparently, we can never think that.” Shannon smiled. “I hoped it wasn’t me.”

She wanted to tell Shannon to have confidence in herself—that she deserved to still be there. And if they were in the kitchen, in front of the cameras, and she were speaking as her mentor, she might have. But somehow, here, privately, when everything between them felt so much more personal, she wasn’t sure it was her place.

From across the room, an electronic melody sang out from Maya’s phone. She recognized the ringtone and didn’t bother retrieving it.

“They let you keep your cell?” Shannon asked.

“Yeah. I’m not on house arrest. Just you contestants.”

“It’s only been about two weeks, but it seems like forever since I made a call that wasn’t monitored.” Shannon gave an exaggerated sigh, then smiled. “Should you answer it?”

“No. It was my mother. I’ll call her back later.”

“What if it’s important?”

“She probably just wants money.” She winced at the hard edge to her words. “That sounded cold, huh?”

“A little.”

“I’ve been dealing with these calls for seven years now. It gets old.” She hadn’t realized just how little compassion she had for her mother until she thought about explaining their complicated relationship to someone else. “When I won my season, my mother began instructing me in how I should capitalize on my
fifteen minutes of fame.
You see, she never actually believed I had real talent, so she thought I should grab every opportunity to make money before the rest of the world caught on to that fact. After my season, before the money started coming in, when all I had to offer was fame, she figured out that certain journalists would pay for details about my life, past and present.”

Shannon’s brows drew together, and then as she made sense of Maya’s words, her expression smoothed and settled into something that looked like anger. She pressed her lips tighter but didn’t say anything. So Maya continued, “So the only way to control my privacy was to make a better offer than the reporters. I give her money, with the understanding that she keeps her mouth shut. If that ever changes, she’s cut off.”

“Wow. I’m sorry.” Shannon touched Maya’s forearm.

“Why?” Shannon’s hand was warm and firm, and Maya’s emotions came closer to the surface than they had in so long.

“You’re paying off your own mother,” Shannon said incredulously.

“We’ve never been close.” She forced indifference.

“What about your dad?”

“Don’t have one. Not a
dad.
I’m sure I have a father out there somewhere, but she never told me who.”

“I didn’t know things were so messed up with your family.”

“Why would you? That stuff barely made it in the tabloids before I caught on to her tricks. Now as far as anyone’s concerned, she’s a hard-working single mother and we couldn’t have a better relationship.” Maya stood and paced away, needing distance from both the compassion in Shannon’s eyes and the urge to seek more comfort in her touch. For too many years, she’d been dispassionate about her family, so why, today, should any of this bother her? “What about you? What skeletons are likely to come out when this show airs?”

“I don’t really have any.”

“Everybody does. Some people don’t even realize it until your name and face are out there. Old friends and enemies you didn’t even know you had suddenly surface.”

Shannon shook her head. “My parents were supportive. Maybe overly so. But I never gave them a reason not to be. I fell in line—the well-behaved daughter. I married the boy I was supposed to, became the perfect wife.” Despite describing the idyllic life, she looked sad. “How much of this do you already know from my bio?”

“Some. Keep talking. Reading it on paper doesn’t tell the story.” Maya sat back down next to her.

“Yeah, and I’m just getting to the good part. You know, where my life fell apart.”

“You don’t have to—”

“It’s okay.” She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I’ll give you the short version. I couldn’t get pregnant. He left me. Found himself a fertile, younger wife and they have three kids, last I heard.” She raised her brows and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Did I manage that without sounding bitter?”

“Almost.”

“We haven’t actually spoken in years. I don’t think he cares enough to say anything about me even if the media dug him up.”

“You’d be surprised what people will say.” Maya smirked. “I’m not even trying not to sound bitter.”

Shannon shrugged. “I’m not worried. It’s not like our marriage was very exciting. There’s nothing to say.”

“And now you’re about to be a grandmother.”

“Rub salt in the wound, why don’t you? Yes. I’m elderly.”

Maya smiled. “You’re still hot for an old lady, though.”

“Thanks.” Shannon’s answering smile chased some of the sadness from her expression, and Maya took too much pleasure in being the one to do that for her.

“Then sometime in the intervening years, you found the joy of women.”

Shannon laughed. “Now that’s a long and dramatic story.”

“Isn’t it always with lesbians?” Maya leaned back on her exercise ball as if she could assume a relaxed posture on the thing. “I’ve got all night.”

As Shannon told her the story of discovering she was attracted to and subsequently dating a woman, Maya caught herself watching her face as intently as she listened to the words. Shannon’s eyes lit up with easy humor as she talked about her disastrous first date with a woman, then comfortable nostalgia as she described several attempts at long-term relationships that ultimately didn’t work out. After she adopted Regan, her priorities shifted and her life centered around being a mother rather than putting effort into dating.

Shannon’s experience of finding women after having been married, and of adopting a child—a pre-teen, really—on her own was so different from Maya’s path that it made her realize she’d never actually had to take responsibility for anyone but herself.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

Maya stepped out of the steaming shower stall and grabbed a towel from the rack. She scrubbed it over her head, then quickly dried her body and hung the towel neatly on the bar to dry. Naked, she left the bathroom, circled the bed, and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge. Unlike the full suites the contestants lived it, her room was a large open space with a king-sized bed, a small sofa and chair near the window, and a wet bar with a single-serve coffeemaker.

She didn’t miss the kitchen, preferring to exist on salads from the deli downstairs and local takeout. One night, she’d sweet-talked the guy at the famous barbeque joint on Broadway into delivering to her hotel room. But after stuffing herself on pulled pork, ribs, amazing potato salad, and the best cornbread she’d ever had, she decided she’d have to stay away from that place for a while—for the sake of her waistline. She’d actually been so full she had to save her homemade banana pudding for breakfast the next day. As good as it was, that banana pudding didn’t compare to the lemon cake she got from Drake’s.

Somehow, every line of thought brought her back to Shannon. She could envision walking into Drake’s and seeing Shannon behind the counter. She would flash that welcoming smile, and Maya would purchase baked goods she hadn’t even known she wanted. She hadn’t seen the kitchen, but she’d been in enough small bakeries to build a mental picture of what the space might look like. Having met Jori, she imagined an efficient use of space, simple yet functional, quality equipment but not overly extravagant.

She set her water bottle on the nightstand, flopped down on the bed, then scooted under the covers. Somewhere else in the hotel, Shannon was probably about to turn in as well. They had fallen into a routine of meeting in the gym after filming. And every night, after working out, they rode the elevator back up to their respective rooms. Maya somehow managed to contain her desire to invite Shannon to her room. She retired to her own room, to torment herself with images of them showering together. She stopped herself before she could fantasize about getting into bed with Shannon. Even if Shannon was on board, which, given her “come-close-no-go-away” attitude, she certainly wasn’t, trying to sneak in a sleepover during the show would be much too risky.

Her cell phone vibrated on the nightstand and she answered it, seeking distraction from the rabbit hole she hovered on the edge of.

“Hey, Wendy.”

“I emailed you a list of interviews and public appearances I want you to consider while you’re down there.”

“I don’t want to do any interviews until the show’s over.”

“You can’t bury yourself down there. Besides, the producers want the publicity.”

“So let them tell me to do it.”

“After that stunt you pulled with Lucia, you need to get back in their good graces.”

“You heard about that already?”

“I think Hugh has me on speed-dial.”

“I think Hugh has a crush on you and wants an excuse to call you. Wasn’t it nice of me to give him one?”

“Maya—”

“Okay. I’ll look it over.” Wendy wouldn’t let it go until she at least agreed to that much. She’d pick one interview and one public appearance, maybe a benefit for a good local cause.

“So what else is going on? New York’s boring without you.”

Maya laughed. “Yeah? The most exciting city in the country is
boring
because I’m absent?”

“Yes.”

“You said you needed a break. Consider this your vacation. Hey, maybe you should take a trip while I’m out of town. Go to the beach.” When Wendy didn’t respond right away, Maya knew she was thinking about it. But as much as Wendy complained about wanting to get away, she was a workaholic. Maya couldn’t even picture her taking a whole week just to herself. “At least take a long weekend. If you need a reason, you could go to Provincetown and check on the condo. No one’s been there in months.” The small beachfront condo had been one of Maya’s first splurges. The little town on the tip of the cape was a close-enough drive yet still far removed from the city. She loved the ocean air and the acceptance she found there. Also, depending on what type of distraction she sought, she was easily as able to blend in with the summer tourist crowd or find solitude in one of the nearby coastal towns or remote beaches.

“Hmm. That’s not a bad idea. I’ll let you know.” Maya was about to make an excuse to get off the phone, but Wendy wasn’t done with her yet. “How’s it going with Soccer Mom?”

“What?”

“Let’s not waste our time doing that thing where you deny it, and I say I know you better. Skip to the part where you just tell me what’s going on.”

Maya laughed. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m very busy, what with filming and trying to stay in shape. You know I struggle when I travel. I’ve been in the hotel gym every night this week.”

“So other than on the show you haven’t seen her?” Wendy’s tone said she wasn’t buying it.

“If I happen to go to the gym and other people are there working out, well, that’s out of my control, isn’t it?”

Wendy’s husky chuckle vibrated through the phone. “Really? So every night this week? If that’s how you’re hoping to sell it to Hugh, you need a little more practice. Granted, I can’t see you right now, but I happen to know your innocent-face isn’t very good.”

“There’s nothing to sell.”

“Hey, I get it. Sneaking around is a turn-on.”

“Wendy.” She did get excited to see Shannon. During filming, she’d catch her eye and Shannon would give her that small smile, the one that said they shared a secret and she liked it. For a moment, Maya could convince herself there was something special between them. But she always forced her eyes away, forging two reminders in her brain—first, that she was there to do a job and getting caught staring at a contestant wouldn’t be good—and second, that whatever was going on between them would probably end sooner than she was ready for.