For the Love of Cake (20 page)

Then each night when she returned to the hotel, she dressed in workout clothes and headed to the fitness room. She always arrived first and got a pretty good workout in before Shannon arrived. After Shannon had dinner with Alice, she joined her. Maya had expanded her routine and continued exercising with Shannon. She might actually be in even better shape than she’d been in when the show started.

“Okay. Nothing to sell? So no flirting, and definitely no physical contact, then?”

She never could lie to Wendy—not even over the phone. And her second of hesitation was all Wendy needed for confirmation.

“I’ll ask you again, how’s it going with Soccer Mom?”

She didn’t know how to answer. They’d shared a lot of conversation, both on casual and more serious topics. She’d snuck in some light flirting. But despite how hot their one and only kiss had been, Shannon hadn’t let it go any further since.

“I’m trying to be supportive here, even though I don’t think this is the smartest play. So talk to me as a friend. We’ll both forget I’m your assistant and I have to worry about you tanking your career over a woman.”

She shoved a hand through her hair. The sides had gotten longer than she liked, so she made a mental note to talk to the show’s stylist about giving her a cut.

“She’s doing great on the show. I just have her and Alice left on my team. And yes, okay, I’ve seen her the past three nights in the gym after filming. But nothing’s happening. There was a kiss, but—”

“Maya—”

“But that was days ago. We both backed off and since then it’s just been a lot of talking.”
A lot
of talking. One night they’d stayed down there until two a.m. The next day, she’d dragged her ass into the makeup chair begging for concealer. She’d seen traces of fatigue around Shannon’s eyes as well and vowed not to keep her up so late again. This show was hard enough without being exhausted. She felt noble until she realized that if she was really that honorable she’d cut off the nightly visits altogether.

“Yeah? You’re just enjoying the conversation, huh?”

“I’m a little offended that you think I can’t.”

“I know there’s more to you than everyone thinks. But you also have to admit it’s been a while since you invested that much time.”

“What else do I have to do while I’m here? I’ve already checked out the one decent gay bar.”

“Be careful.”

“I admit, I’m attracted to her. And I may even be in deeper than I thought.”

“Deeper than you can handle?” Had anyone else asked her that, she would have blown up in response. But Wendy’s softly posed question simply deflated her. She had no idea what she could handle anymore. She’d earned her reputation as a player, especially since the show exploded her popularity. She’d dated, had casual sex, and even got involved in a committed relationship or two along the way. But in the past year, she’d changed.

She growled in frustration and pushed her hand through her hair again.

“Hey, as your friend, I’m happy to hear that you’re getting a little torn up over someone.”

“Yeah? You love my misery, friend?”

“It means you’re healing. After the baby—”

“I don’t—”

“Hear me out. After last year, I thought you’d keep yourself shut off forever.” Wendy’s gentle tone took a bit of the sting out of her words. “I want you to be happy. But when the show’s over, you and Soccer Mom will be going your separate ways. Are you considering a long-distance relationship?”

“You’re getting so far ahead of what I’ve even thought about.”

“Is she thinking about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should ask her.”

“Maybe I should just keep my head down and finish this show and get my ass back to New York.” She couldn’t start thinking about the future. The last time she let herself plan for happiness, she got her heart broken. She couldn’t take another loss right now.

“Yes. Because avoidance usually works. Except when it doesn’t.”

“Give me a break. I thought you didn’t want us together. Yet when I agree, you get snarky. What do you want from me?”

“You didn’t agree that you shouldn’t be together. You agreed that you’re afraid to be with her. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what I want from you.
You
want
her
. But you also want to give in to your urge to flee because it’s less complicated.”

“What I want to give in to right now is this monster headache you’re giving me. I have to go.” She didn’t wait for Wendy’s response before she disconnected the call.

*

“During today’s challenge and going forward, you will each compete on your own. No more teams.” Hugh’s announcement came as a relief. As their team dwindled, Shannon had worried that another loss meant she had a 50/50 chance of going home. But now, her fate rested in her own hands.

She lined up behind her workstation alongside Alice and the other two remaining chefs, Ned and Mason. After yesterday’s elimination, she’d made the top four and finally began to feel optimistic. One elimination stood between her and the live finale.

Perhaps for the first time since she’d arrived, Shannon had started to consider that she could win this thing. At first her goal had been to not go home first, then she wanted to make it halfway, and then she thought maybe top five would be respectable. But now that she was one spot away, she wanted top three more than anything. During these next competitions, her entire focus had to be on that end. After she achieved that, she would let herself think about actually winning.

The door on the opposite end of the kitchen opened and Eric entered, followed by the three mentors. They talked quietly among themselves, ignoring the bustle of activity around the kitchen that signified the many crewmembers getting ready for today’s filming. Shannon had gotten better at tuning out the flurry as well. The distraction she’d faced with the cameras had faded, and, while on some level, she remained aware of their presence and locations within the room, she barely caught herself looking directly into a lens anymore.

Since Shannon had claimed one of the center counters, Maya, standing between Wayne and Jacques, was directly across from her. Their eyes met and the corner of Maya’s mouth twitched as if she wanted to smile. Instead, she looked away. She’d been doing that a lot lately. During the competition she was distant, impersonal, and often constructively critical of all the chefs.

At night, when the two of them met in the hotel gym, Maya became a different person. She was warm and funny, and their conversation flowed easily. When Shannon tried to ask about her demeanor during filming, Maya deflected. The only other subject that seemed to shut Maya down as quickly included anything about the rumors surrounding her alleged abortion last year—not that Shannon brought that one up. But she could feel when a topic traveled too close to that time period and Maya backed away.

*

“Chefs, please welcome our guest judge for this challenge, Greta Haus, chef-owner of Klett Haus, a local German restaurant.”

Maya turned a laugh into a subtle cough as Eric mangled the pronunciation and it actually sounded like he called it “clit house.” When he glared at her she averted her eyes, cleared her throat, and shot her gaze to the floor.

The shapely woman that entered turned nearly every head on set. Her flowing dark-blond hair framed cheekbones made even more prominent by artfully applied makeup. Her obviously tailored, light-pink chef coat funneled from her full breasts down to her narrow waist, although the two open buttons displaying impressive cleavage drew the eye back up. Clear eyes, dark blue or green—Maya couldn’t tell for sure from where she stood—lighted on everyone in the room as she curved full lips into a warm smile. She was stunning. And Maya didn’t think she imagined that Chef Haus’s eyes lingered just a bit longer when they reached her.

“Almost five years ago, Chef Haus opened Klett Haus to celebrate her German roots. She has built her reputation by putting her own spin on her family’s traditional recipes, creating lighter, healthier dishes that carry echoes of home.” Eric welcomed Chef Haus with a hug. “Welcome to our kitchen.”

“Thank you. It’s so wonderful to be here.” Judging from her minimal accent, Maya guessed if she wasn’t born in the United States, she might have emigrated at a young age.

“Chef Haus and her staff are about to celebrate five years in business, and they’re throwing a party. You’ll each have three hours to complete a design, and the winning cake will be featured in the celebration.”

“So, Chef Haus, why don’t you tell our chefs a little about yourself and your restaurant?” Jacques said.

She thanked him politely and launched into an abbreviated version of her family history. Maya scanned the four faces across from her, recalling how excited she’d been on this day during her season. She’d been so cocky and certain that she’d make the finale. Actually, she’d been that way through her entire tenure. She faced every day feeling fearless and certain she was going all the way to the end. Aside from Ned, none of the other chefs seemed to possess that level of confidence. She’d always told herself it was necessary—that if she didn’t fully believe it would happen, then somehow she didn’t deserve it. But she couldn’t look at the nervous expressions of any of the competitors before her and say they didn’t deserve it. Each of them had worked hard, and though she had a clear favorite, any one of them could easily compete in the finale.

Thoughts of the finale reminded Maya that in just a few days, the show would break for eight weeks while the episodes continued airing. Then the three finalists would return to participate in the final show, before one was declared the winner.

A sudden burst of movement from the competitors shook Maya from her thoughts. She’d completely missed the rest of Greta’s intro and apparently Eric’s call to begin.

“What do we do while they’re working?” Greta touched Maya’s arm. “Please, tell me we don’t have to watch them for three hours.”

“No. We’ll come back when they’re almost done.”

“Hmm, so how could we pass the time?” Greta winked, an invitation shining clear in her eyes. “Do you have any interesting suggestions?”

Maya glanced down at Greta’s hand, now encircling her bicep. The old Maya would ask her back to her dressing room and show her a number of interesting ways to pass three hours. Apparently taking Maya’s moment of hesitation as consent, Greta stepped closer, her breast brushing Maya’s arm. Maya could now tell that her eyes were green—clear and green like sea glass. And she smelled like strawberries. The dilation of Greta’s pupils and the way her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips sent a shot of arousal through Maya that felt familiar and more comfortable than anything she’d experienced in months. She’d been trying to be someone else, but maybe this was just who she was—maybe the tabloids were right and she couldn’t be anything more.

“Lunch?” she suggested, raising her brow in a way that had won over countless women. She knew the moves so well, they were second nature. Men and women required different tactics—the aggression that made women melt didn’t work with men. Their egos required a more submissive approach. And she’d shifted between the two personas effortlessly when it suited her needs.

“We can start with that.” Greta practically purred.

Maya nodded and led her from the kitchen. As she pushed open the door, leaned into the doorway, and waited for Greta to precede her, she caught Shannon watching them. As Greta passed, she squeezed Maya’s ass so briefly she might have thought she imagined it if she didn’t seen Shannon’s eyes dip and then go cold.

“Chef Vaughn, are you coming?” Greta called over her shoulder.

“Oh, hell. No time soon, I suspect,” Maya mumbled as she stepped across the threshold and released the door. Before it swung shut she saw Shannon go back to work.

“There’s a great deli down the street if you don’t mind walking a couple of blocks.” Maya guided her through the backstage area.

“I had something a little more intimate in mind. Can’t we send someone to get takeout—” Greta waved her hand at the crewmembers moving around them. “Then we go to your dressing room.”

Shannon’s disappointed expression lingered in Maya’s mind and suddenly she didn’t want to be alone with Greta, but she didn’t want to admit it. So she flagged down a production assistant and gave him an order.

In her dressing room, Greta settled on the couch and patted the cushion. Instead, Maya leaned against the desk on the adjacent wall and folded her arms across her chest.

“Your producer hasn’t announced this yet, but the fifth-anniversary party is tonight and you all are invited,” Greta said.

“That’s great. I’m sure the chefs will enjoy getting a break from the competition for a night.”

“Yes. But getting you, Wayne, and Jacques in the restaurant is the real coup. When I was contacted by the show, I thought I might get to spend a few minutes with you at the party. But I never dreamed I’d get so much uninterrupted time alone with you.”

“It’s hardly uninterrupted. Our food will be arriving soon. And people are constantly coming and going around here.” Bringing Greta in here was a mistake. If Maya wanted to hold onto the hope that there might be something between her and Shannon, she couldn’t let anything happen with Greta.

Greta stalked across the room. Maya straightened, prepared to move. Greta slipped her hand inside Maya’s jacket, skimmed her stomach, then touched her waist.

“I don’t want to be rude, but what you’re thinking—it’s not going to happen.” Maya tamped down the instinctive flutter of arousal stirred by the touch of a beautiful woman. She was human, after all.

“I’m not doing a whole lot of thinking right now.” Greta ran her hands up Maya’s chest and clasped them behind her neck, then leaned in and pressed her lips to Maya’s. Before she could stop herself, Maya returned the kiss. When Greta eased back, she said, “I’m a big girl. I don’t expect anything from you.”

Maya grasped her upper arms and pushed her back farther. Greta’s assumption that she knew all about Maya was like a bucket of cold water. “It’s not happening.”

“I didn’t think ‘hard to get’ was part of your game.” Greta’s eyes glittered with confidence. She clearly thought she still controlled the outcome of this encounter.