For the Love of Cake (6 page)

Though she’d told Jori and Sawyer she was keeping her expectations low, she now realized a part of her had thought she would go in and rock it, blowing away Eric and the mentors with her skills. But based on today, the other competitors were good, some of them
really
good, and she was no longer so sure of herself. Maybe she should simply be hoping she didn’t suffer the embarrassment of being the first sent home.

“No,” she said aloud. “They picked you for a reason.
Someone
must have thought you had potential.” She pushed aside the internal voice that said reality-show contestants weren’t always chosen for their skill. She’d watched enough television to guess that sometimes a big personality or a volatile temper would probably get a person cast on a show.

But she hadn’t been flashy or over-exuberant in her audition tape. The subsequent Skype interview had been more detailed, and she’d cringed a little as they delved into her past. But her story wasn’t exciting or out of the ordinary. She’d been a sophomore in college when her boyfriend of two years, a newly graduated law student, proposed. She accepted because he was a catch and her parents and her friends loved him. In fact, a couple of her friends joked that if she ever broke it off with him, they’d snap him up.

So she let herself fall into marriage, not knowing at the time she wasn’t old enough, or wise enough, or secure enough in herself to demand what she really wanted. When he passed the bar and landed a job with a prestigious firm and asked her to stay at home, she agreed. He wanted the big house, the fancy car, the obedient wife, and the two-point-five kids. She foolishly thought she was the luckiest woman in the world. He expected to start on the kids right away and she complied. Nine years later, after exhausting every method, they sat side by side while a doctor dispassionately told them she’d never bear children. He waited barely three months before he left her.

Shannon shook her head, remembering how uncomfortable she’d been in the interview for the show as she detailed that failure and the subsequent ten years it had taken her to get back to culinary school. Years filled with raising a daughter she first fostered then adopted as a single mother, years of discovering that what she really wanted had nothing to do with men at all. She’d lifted her chin as she told the show’s producer that she was a lesbian, having come too far to hide that fact just to get on television.

Suddenly needing to ground herself against the roller coaster of the past two weeks, she picked up the hotel phone and dialed her daughter’s number.

“Hey, Mom.” Regan answered just when Shannon thought her voice mail might come on.

“Hi, sweetie, you sound tired. Did I wake you?”

“No. I can’t get comfortable and I feel like a whale.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I was there.” She’d enjoyed being with her daughter for every step of her pregnancy. The decision to leave only weeks before her due date had been difficult.

“Don’t even say it. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance for you.”

“So is being there for the birth of my granddaughter, unless you’re planning to have a bunch more.”

“Let’s just get through this one first. If I don’t kill my husband, maybe we’ll have another one.”

Shannon laughed. “Just think of it as practice for the next eighteen years of parenting together. Your marriage is strong, you’ll be fine.”

“Mom—”

“I know. It was a long time ago.” Regan had never even met Shannon’s ex-husband, but she knew the backstory. Now, as her daughter was about to become a mother herself, that time in her life felt so far away. “You’re almost through it. You’ve only got a few weeks left, honey.”

“Easy for you to say. Your feet still fit in your shoes.”

“Too many more of these long days and they won’t.”

“How’s it going?”

“Eh—I’m not really supposed to talk about it.” Though she felt lonely and nervous, she wasn’t about to break the rules on the first day.

“Then I’ll just guess from the enthusiasm in your voice,” Regan teased her. “So, shake off whatever’s going on and step it up, Mom. You’re not missing my kid’s birth to come in second place.”

“Thank you. That’s just what I need right now.”

“Time for tough love?”

“Yep.” Shannon had doled out plenty of tough love in the early years of their relationship. Regan had been taken from her birth mother by the Department of Children’s Services when she was five years old. She’d spent the next six years in foster care, until coming to live with Shannon. At eleven, she’d carried more resentment toward both her mother and the system that took her away than any one child should ever have. That resentment manifested as mistrust of everyone, especially those who seemed to want to help her. Back then, Regan hadn’t believed that Shannon, or anyone, would treat her well without wanting something in return.

“Okay, kid, go lie down and let my granddaughter go to sleep.”

“Sure, but she’s the one keeping me awake at night with all the dancing around in there.”

Shannon could hear the smile in Regan’s voice and she closed her eyes, trying to see her—to soak in the familiar and lock it away to call upon later.

“Good luck, Mom. Give ’em hell.”

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

“This is a decorating-only immunity challenge. After taking turns consulting with a very special client, you’ll each have two hours to construct a cake using the premade sponge cake on the racks behind you.” Eric gestured widely, encompassing them all. “You should be quite familiar with today’s clients. It seems that all three of our mentors have a birthday coming up. Each team member will be decorating a cake for your respective mentor. You’ll each have five minutes to consult with your client and will be judged today on your consultation as well as your decorating. The top cake will receive immunity for today’s elimination.”

Shannon’s heart raced at the thought of a one-on-one consultation with Maya Vaughn. Only two weeks ago, she’d nervously hoped to exchange a few words with Maya, and now on the second day she’d have a full five minutes with her. She’d already been keyed up this morning, and now she felt as if everyone could see how she trembled. She’d lain awake last night thinking about the previous day and planning ways to improve, which was difficult without knowing what the challenges would be.

“Okay, who’s first,” Maya said as she gathered their team near one end of the room.

Shannon’s brain screamed at her to step forward, to show initiative, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, Lucia raised her hand and Maya led her to a pair of chairs nearby. Shannon couldn’t hear what they said, but she stole glances at them anyway. Even sitting, Lucia held herself erect, her posture professional, but her smile projected openness. The five minutes passed quickly, and Lucia took her place behind one of the worktables.

Alice lurched forward and flung herself into the chair opposite Maya. While they talked, Alice kept leaning into the space between them and touching Maya’s forearm. Maya angled back as if she wanted to scoot her chair back, her expression tight as she responded to whatever Alice was asking. When Alice stood, Shannon jerked into action, finally managing to unglue her feet from the floor.

“Shannon, have a seat,” Maya said as Shannon practically stumbled into the chair.

She inhaled slowly, then let her breath out, trying to concentrate. She could feel Maya’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t seem to drag her own gaze off the floor.
Focus, damn it. Act like you’ve done this before.
She’d had tons of customer consults for Drake’s, but none had made her this nervous.

She looked at Maya’s feet, clad in heavy, well-worn brown boots, then her legs, encased in soft denim. She slid past the fashionable belt and over a flat stomach, but froze when she reached her breasts, high and firm and wearing a trendy T-shirt like it was stitched just for them. Certainly, she’d admired them in magazine photos, but up close and in 3D, they were pretty amazing breasts. Maya crossed her arms over her chest, and Shannon had the impression of strong forearms before she forced her attention up. When she locked on Maya’s blue-gray eyes, she knew she’d been caught checking her out. One side of Maya’s mouth quirked, and Shannon swore she read interest in the returned gaze.

“Is there something you want to know?” If she had any doubt about being busted, the sultry tone in Maya’s voice confirmed it.

“Yes.” Shannon took a breath, unable to think of one appropriate, professional query. She almost laughed out loud at the thought of asking Maya on national television if the short hair at the nape of her neck was as soft as it looked or if her currently smirking mouth was as kissable as she imagined. “I’m—uh—a little nervous.” She cursed the slight stutter in her words. She felt the cameraman’s presence beside her and fought the urge to look at him.

“You only have a few minutes left.” Maya’s amused tone let on that she was aware Shannon probably had no idea how much of her time she’d wasted.

Shannon stared at her, trying desperately to grasp a question, any question as her time fizzled away. “Do you have any hobbies?”

“Hobbies?” Maya chuckled. “I don’t have time for hobbies.”

“You’re not all work, are you?” Maya’s casual manner relaxed Shannon slightly, and she managed an almost conversational tone.

“Lately, I am. I suppose based on how my time is spent these days my hobbies include making small talk with people I don’t know, dodging paparazzi, and primping and posing for photo shoots.” She wrinkled her nose. “That makes me sound horribly ungrateful, doesn’t it?”

“If you had free time, let’s say for your upcoming birthday—”

“My birthday is nine months away.”

“I’m trying to play along.”

“Well, then by all means,” Maya said, gesturing for her to continue.

“What would your ideal birthday celebration be?”

“A lavish party, perhaps? That’s what I’m supposed to say, right?” Maya answered sarcastically, and then her expression softened. “I think maybe a quiet dinner, then live music at an intimate club somewhere. And no cake.”

“No cake? Is that a trick? Should I leave my counter empty and say I gave the client what she wanted?”

“I suppose not.”

“That would have made this challenge a whole lot easier.”

“We’re not here to make it easy on you. Our time is up. I hope you got everything you need.”

“Not even close,” Shannon mumbled as she stood, not looking back to see if Maya heard her.

She went to her table, already feeling defeated. She knew more about Maya going into the interview than she’d actually been able to get out of the conversation. She thought about the only question she’d managed to ask. Maya didn’t want a big, extravagant party. She wanted intimacy and live music at a small club. That’s where Shannon’s certainty stopped and the guesswork began. She studied Maya as she talked to Damien. Today, she looked edgy and fashionable without trying too hard. Shannon had seen red-carpet photos. Maya Vaughn in a designer gown was a sight to behold. She tended toward dresses with smooth, sleek lines, and her hair and makeup often had a classic old-Hollywood feel.

Seeing Damien go to his counter spurred Shannon into action. Not only had she wasted her own interview time, but she’d apparently burned through another five minutes and still had no concrete plan. But she set about gathering supplies anyway.

For the remainder of the two hours, Shannon worked steadily, glancing up only to check the clock. And when Eric called time, she stepped back, feeling more confident. She finally looked at the other three cakes around her, and her hopes waned. They’d all done flashy designs bursting with color. One even had a layer with a leopard-print pattern painted on it. Her own creation didn’t even look like it was for the same client. She’d decided on an understated version of an old-school pin-up feel. She kept the colors clean and classy, black and white with accents the same deep red as Maya’s lipstick.

The mentors began examining the cakes one by one, sometimes offering feedback and sometimes moving on with very little comment. Since Shannon couldn’t change her choices now, she might as well take pride in the work she’d done. She forced her shoulders back and lifted her chin.

Jacques was the first to arrive at her table. He leaned in and turned her cake. “Good smooth fondant, solid technique. Nicely done.”

“I agree. And your selective use of color here makes the design pop,” Wayne said as he came to stand next to Jacques.

“Thank you, Chefs.” Shannon allowed herself a small smile.

As they both moved on, Maya stopped in front of her cake. With no other clues, Shannon didn’t know her well enough to interpret her raised brow. Hell, she hadn’t even known her well enough to make her a cake. Shannon slowly inhaled, trying to combat the nerves that left her slightly breathless. She wanted to be brave, wanted to prod Maya for some kind of comment. But she ended up just staring at her and wishing she knew what Maya was thinking. When she moved on to the next cake without comment, Shannon suppressed a groan of frustration.

*

“You produced some great cakes today. But only one of you can win immunity. Your performance was judged both on your creation and by the mentor feedback regarding your interview.” Eric paused, clearly for effect, while he scanned all the contestants. Maya barely managed to not roll her eyes. She’d forgotten how dramatic he could be, but the viewing audience ate up his antics. And he knew how to capitalize on his success. In the six years he’d hosted the show, he’d launched a clothing line and a cologne brand. She’d heard somewhere that he invested heavily in real estate as well. As he let the tension build, a nervous chuckle and an impatient sigh from the contestants broke the deliberate silence. “And today, immunity goes to Ned.”

Ned let out a triumphant grunt and pumped his fist. Several of his peers nodded as if expecting his win, while others shook their head in self-recrimination. Maya’s team’s response was varied as well. Alice looked genuinely happy for Ned, and Maya could almost hear the string of congratulatory remarks she was itching to spew. Lucia’s expression was stony and unreadable. Though quiet, she would likely prove stiff competition for the others. Damien glared at Ned and then at Eric, clearly displeased with the result. His cake had been so far out of the running that any jealousy on his part was clearly unwarranted. Though Shannon was somewhat more guarded, the tiny twitches around her eyes and the bunching of her jaw indicated she too was unhappy. However, judging from her downcast gaze and the concave posture of her shoulders, she seemed to be directing her criticism inward.