For the Love of Cake (9 page)

“I would if I ever saw her. It seems like the only time we have together is when I make a delivery to the restaurant or if she stops by the bakery.”

“Maybe once things settle down there—”

“Well, I’m counting on business picking up after you make us famous on that show.”

“Sure. I’ll drop the name Drake’s as often as I can.”

“I know you can’t tell me. But however things are going, we’re proud of you.”

“That helps, thanks.”

“So stop lusting after your mentor and get to work changing that first impression, huh?”

She smiled at Jori’s teasing tone. “Absolutely.” Jori’s advice was sounder than she knew. Shannon should be thinking about Maya only in a professional capacity. She obviously couldn’t afford any more distractions. So far, she hadn’t put forward the image she wanted the mentors to see. Any further lack of focus might blow what could be the biggest boost possible in her career.

C
HAPTER
S
IX

Maya slumped into a chair, pulled off her sunglasses, and winced against the lights. Thankful for the silence signaling that she was one of the first to arrive, she closed her eyes and turned her scrubbed-clean face toward the woman who came at her with a makeup brush.

She’d stayed at the bar too late, given her early call this morning. After nursing the same drink through the entire drag show, she’d rebuffed the advances of her drunken companion and put her in a cab. Then she got a separate taxi for herself, preferring the inside of her own hotel room to the invitation to her new friend’s apartment. She’d dragged herself out of bed only a few hours later and called for a car to drive her to the set. When she knew she had only a short time to sleep, she always slept lightly, disturbed by the slightest sound, as if her body feared she wouldn’t wake in time otherwise. So she’d tossed and turned, waking from weird dreams to look at the clock and engage in a negotiation with her body about how many hours she could still manage if she went to sleep
right now
.

The sound of distant voices growing louder signaled the end of her solitude. She drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes. The contestants were arriving for hair and makeup. They all seemed annoyingly well rested and perky this morning. Never good on little sleep, she became sensitive to sound when she was tired. One guy incessantly stirred his coffee, and the sound of the plastic spoon scraping his foam cup nearly drove her insane. Why couldn’t he use one of those little plastic straws? They were so much quieter.

The three women on her team had entered together and moved toward the chairs at the opposite end of the row. She caught a couple of curious glances, as if they weren’t sure whether they should approach her. She sent them a glare to let them know that though her anger from yesterday’s performance had cooled slightly, they’d still better keep their distance.

Remembering her attempt at distraction last night, Maya looked surreptitiously at Shannon. Once again, the chestnut hair that she’d compared to that of the brunette in the bar was pulled back into a neat bun, but a strand near her temple had escaped and caressed the side of her face, curling at the end to just touch her jawbone. She carried her chef coat slung across her arm, and without its boxy shape, Maya could see that she had a nice figure, curvy in all the right places. Attractive—yes, but she still didn’t stand out in a crowd, not even this crowd. Maya’s eyes should have gravitated to a number of the other women first, but for some reason even as she scanned them, she came back to Shannon.

“Chef Hayes,” she called out, her voice sharper than she’d intended. Her fascination with Shannon irritated her, and, though she knew it was irrational, she wanted to blame her.

“Yes, Chef.” Shannon strode over and stopped beside her chair. Maya kept her face directed to the woman applying her makeup, but she shifted her body toward Shannon.

“Damien threw you under the bus yesterday for his own benefit. I’m not a fan of that. But he never would have had the chance if you hadn’t given it to him. I know you can be a stronger competitor than this. I wouldn’t have chosen you for my team otherwise.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Damn it. Where’s your backbone?”

“I’m sorry?” Shannon glanced at the makeup girl, who seemed to be trying to look like she wasn’t listening in.

“Why do you want to be here?”

“To learn, to compete—”

“Don’t give me the television-interview answer. I want brutal honesty.”

Shannon frowned. She took a step back as if she wanted to leave, but one of the guys from makeup grabbed her shoulders and steered her into the chair next to Maya.

“Honey, if you’re just going to stand there, at least let me do you.”

She sighed and tilted her face toward him.

“You put your whole life on hold to be here. Surely something deeper than education drives you?” Maya wouldn’t let the topic go until she better understood Shannon’s motivation. Aside from her own competitiveness, Maya genuinely wanted to see her succeed. She’d obviously fought to follow her dream, not letting the fact that she was older than most other aspiring chefs deter her. So where was that determination now?

“I put my whole life on hold a long time ago. I’m finally living it now,” Shannon snapped.

“Now we’re getting somewhere. What do you mean?”

Shannon started to shake her head, but the makeup guy grasped her chin and held her still, so she waved a hand in the air dismissively instead.

Maya turned in her chair and touched her forearm. Shannon blinked, her eyes shining with anger and a well of unshed tears. The contact suddenly felt too intimate and Maya pulled her hand back. “Tell me.”

“I was married and, for nine years, I did what he wanted me to do. Then—well, then there was my daughter. For the first time in my life, I’m making decisions while only thinking of myself.”

The makeup guy gave her a tissue and a stern look, indicating he did not intend to redo her eyes. She dabbed carefully under her lids.

“So, then—why do you want to be here?”

Shannon didn’t answer.

“I’m trying to help you.” Maya met her eyes in the mirror and held them, wanting to make sure Shannon saw her sincerity. “Please.”

“Because I have to know if I’m good enough.”

Maya stared at her for a long moment, surprised by the ache in her heart at Shannon’s words. “Well, let me put that question to rest for you. You are most definitely good enough.”

“You have to say that since you picked me for your team. Admitting I wasn’t would be admitting a mistake on your part.”

“I don’t make mistakes.” Maya winked, trying to lighten the mood. “You deserve to be here.”

“I’m not that naive. I know how these reality shows work, and it isn’t all about talent. I fit a demographic. I’m the oldest person on the show. I’m the generation past, trying desperately to keep up with the young hotshots.”

Maya shrugged. “Does it matter why you were cast?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re here now. So, the way I see it, you have two outcomes. Either you’re the old lady who can’t keep up or you rise to the challenge and beat them. That’s the only part you can control.” Maya grinned at the hard glint in Shannon’s eyes when she said “old lady.” Maybe she could ignite that fire yet.

*

“Oh my God, I need coffee,” Sawyer called as she let herself in the back door at the bakery. Jori crossed the kitchen and met her with a mug before she’d taken two more steps. “Yes, this is why I love you.” She carefully took a sip, then gave an exaggerated moan.

Jori pressed close to her and kissed the side of her neck. “Yeah? If I’d known coffee was all I had to give you to earn your love, I wouldn’t have bothered wooing you so hard in the beginning.”

Sawyer laughed. “You? I distinctly recall being the one doing the wooing. You, my love, wanted nothing to do with me.”

“The first of many mistakes I made where you’re concerned.” She smiled as she remembered the first few months, four years ago, when both Jori’s apprehension and Sawyer’s own family had conspired to keep them apart.

“No worries, it’s all sorted now.”

“Good.” Jori slapped her ass lightly. “Now go make nice with the new girl. Her name is Mackenzie and I told her you’d be stopping by this morning.”

“Certainly.” Still cradling her warm mug, she headed for the front of the shop.

Jori followed more slowly, content to observe as Sawyer greeted Mackenzie and slipped into comfortable conversation with her.

Though not quite as skilled as Shannon, so far Mackenzie had impressed Jori. The willowy blonde piling baked goods into the display case wasn’t what Jori had expected. Perhaps because Shannon had said she went to pastry school with her, Jori had mistakenly imagined someone older. Though she’d have to be at least in her twenties to have graduated already, this girl didn’t look it. Her wavy hair fell in a loose braid down the center of her back. She wore a fitted T-shirt and the skinny jeans that seemed so popular these days, though Jori thought they usually made the wearer appear oddly disproportionate. But as long as Mackenzie continued working as hard as she had, Jori wouldn’t hold her fashion choices against her.

“Welcome to Drake’s. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble fitting in.” Sawyer lifted her coffee cup in salutation.

Jori leaned against the counter and pointed at Sawyer’s mug. “In case you didn’t catch it, that gesture was a hint. First thing in the morning, keep Sawyer’s coffee full and she’ll be happy.”

“Very funny.”

“Actually, it’s a joke. Because she’s so rarely here first thing in the morning,” Jori half-teased. She hoped if they worked hard enough now, they might someday be in a position to adjust their staggered schedules.

“That’s because while you’re already nestled in bed at night, I’m still at the restaurant.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been meaning to stop by there and check out Drake’s. Now that I’m working downtown it won’t be such a headache with parking and all,” Mackenzie said.

“Sure. Be sure to do that. The food’s great. And I’m not just saying that because my brother and sister are the chefs. Speaking of which, I better go keep them in line.” She kissed Jori’s cheek as she passed. “Nice to meet you, Mackenzie. Any time you want to try out our lunch menu, just get your boss here to text me an order.”

*

“A great cake is not just about appearance. Even the most elaborate showpiece should still taste good. In fact, one could argue it should taste even better. But too often decorating trumps the palate. Today, you’ll each be bringing us a tasting of your best three flavor profiles. The winner will be safe from elimination in the next challenge.”

They’d been given the same instructions earlier that morning, then had to provide Hugh with a list of their tasting menu so the appropriate ingredients could be assembled before taping began. Now, Eric delivered the rules for the cameras with a dramatic flair, and they were supposed to react as if it were the first time they’d heard them. As he signaled the start of time, they rushed to their stations. As a viewer, Shannon had often wondered how the contestants came up with their ideas in those few seconds before beginning work. Now she knew they often had more preparation time than she’d thought. Apparently, reality shows often had less reality than they portrayed.

“You’ve got this,” she mumbled as she gathered what she needed to mix her three batters. She’d selected flavor combinations she had done before at Drake’s. Her recipes were proven, and she was confident she could create a great sampling.

She quickly prepared her batters, filled layer pans, and put them in the oven. While they baked, she made icings and fillings. She worked steadily without a moment of downtime, glancing often at the clock. It seemed as if the producers had calculated time for baking, cooling, and assembly, then cut five minutes off that time in order to frame the limit on this challenge. Then again, every challenge felt that way. She put her head down and worked faster, intent on making up the difference.

“Tell me about your flavors.”

She jerked her eyes up at the words and found Maya leaning over the counter to peer into the saucepan she intently stirred. She’d been focused on keeping her caramel filling from burning and hadn’t heard her approach. Now, their faces were only inches apart, and Shannon couldn’t tear her eyes from Maya’s. This close, she discovered Maya’s irises were a deep blue at the center that lightened to steely gray around the outside edges.

“Are you really going to keep it a secret until the judging?” Maya’s lips twitched into a half smile.

“Um, no—I—this is a caramel filling for my chocolate cake, which will also have a caramel buttercream icing.” Shannon’s face burned as she heard the tremor in her own voice. If Maya would just back up a step, she might be able to regain her composure. She glanced at the cameraman shooting over Maya’s shoulder, then flicked her eyes away. But then she thought,
Maybe they won’t be able to use this part since I looked at the camera.
She debated whether to give it another good, long look just to be certain.

Around them, Wayne and Jacques visited the counters of their team members as well, offering suggestions and advice.

“Can I taste it?” Maya’s words brought Shannon’s attention squarely back to her. The anticipation on her face as she asked made Shannon’s mind spin up all kinds of inappropriate thoughts. Coupled with Maya’s quiet tone and their physical proximity, she could almost convince herself Maya had something other than a culinary sampling in mind. “Chef Hayes?”

Shannon shook her head and cleared her throat. “Of course.” She drew a spoon out of a nearby canister and held it out.

When Maya took it, her fingers brushed Shannon’s and she drew her lower lip between her teeth, the only outward sign that she might also be affected by their nearness. Shannon stepped back and let Maya dip into the caramel. Once she’d lifted the spoon clear, Shannon slid the pan off the burner, pleased with the consistency of threads that fell away from Maya’s spoon.