Smiling, I adjusted the pretty Blake’s bags in my hands and hurried forwards, only to collide with a man stepping onto the sidewalk, our shoulders crashing together. “Watch it!” he snapped as I half spun around, my feet suddenly unsteady.

  “Hey!” I huffed, my gaze rising to meet his, a ball cap pulled low over his forehead.

  “Look where you’re going,” he sighed, glancing away, clearly barely seeing me.

  “You look where you’re going,” I snapped back. “Rude jerk!” I muttered as I stepped around the man blocking my way, and stalked off, my head held high. As I strode on, I frowned. There was something vaguely familiar about him, yet I couldn’t quite place him. Perhaps he’d been in the café recently? It was bad enough running into Doug and Toni earlier, but I wasn’t going to let anyone else be rude to me today, not after my day had improved so much!

  When I reached the crosswalk and hit the button, my eyes widened in sudden horror and I chanced a glance back. The man was gone but I was certain the man I’d just collided with was Leo Finley. I hadn’t recognized him with the ball cap stretched over his head, covering most of his face but now I was sure. “Oh, no!” I sighed as the crosswalk sign began to flash. I’d called him a jerk! What if he marked me down for that tomorrow? Of all the bad luck! Hopefully, he was so lost in his thoughts he wouldn’t even remember me. It didn’t seem like he recognized me… and that made my shoulders drop a little further. Of course not… why would he? He must talk to dozens of people on the show. He’d probably forgotten all about me within days of filming my heat’s finale, when Rebecca handed me the small winner’s trophy of that round.

  I spent the rest of the walk home cringing and by the time I’d climbed up the stairs to my apartment, I’d shaken off the incident. Well, mostly. My impressions of Leo Finley had never been that he was a rude man. Quite the opposite. He’d always been friendly to me. Plus, it was an accident. Who hadn’t accidentally walked into someone when in a hurry? Or snapped in a moment of stress? Of course, he wouldn’t hold it against me… and if he did? Well, I could counter that with making the most amazing dishes for judging, giving him no option but to mark me fairly. Plus, it wasn’t like he was the only judge!

  “I’m home,” I called out, as I opened the door into my apartment’s neat entryway. Music pumped from the kitchen.

  My roommate, Jay, put his head around the door, a lock of blonde hair flopping over his forehead. Then his lips split into a broad grin as his gaze landed on me. “Well, look at you!” he said. He waved a finger at me, then placed a hand over his heart and fluttered his eyelashes. “Has someone been shopping?” he asked right before I looked around for something to toss at him. Good naturedly, of course.

  “You won’t believe what happened today,” I replied to him as I headed into my bedroom and dropped the bags on my bed. Entering the kitchen, I parked myself on one of the twin stools at the counter, watching my roommate stir the contents of a pan.

  “Tell me everything, and taste this sauce.” Jay held a spoon out to me and I sipped.

  “More seasoning,” I said.

  “Right?” he nodded, reaching for the salt and pepper shakers. “Your sorbet was a dream last night. Bridget said to say thank you and come to dinner next time.”

  “It’s going well then?” I asked, even though I’d heard about every step of their budding romance so far. It was totally cute how enamored Jay was with her.

  “I think so. She’s cute, funny, she laughs at my jokes, and she’s never once asked if you and I are secretly into each other.” Jay rolled his eyes before adding, “What’s not to like?”

  “Are you bringing her to see the show?” I inquired. Jay and I had been friends since high school and even though we’d kissed once as fresh-faced sixteen-year-olds, that had been the first and last time. We just didn’t click like that. Instead, he was one of the best friends I could ever have, and a terrific roommate. When he’d bought the apartment a couple of years ago, he’d offered me a very fair rent, enabling me to save serious money towards opening my bakery.

  “Front row seats, baby!” He tasted the sauce again. “By front row, I mean somewhere several rows back since the front row is reserved for special guests. Bridget is crushing on Leo Finley. I figure that’s okay since just being in his vicinity will get me boyfriend points.”

  I laughed. “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Absolutely. If I were a girl, I’d crush on him too.”

  “I ran into him twenty minutes ago,” I said, pulling a face. “He walked right into me and then told me off for not looking where I was going! I called him a jerk!”

  “No!”

  “He was kind of rude.”

  Jay pulled a face. “I thought you said he was nice?”

  “He’s always been nice to me, but not then. He looked mad. I’m worried he’ll mark me down in retaliation.”

  “Have you known him to do anything like that before?” Jay dipped a fresh spoon in the sauce. “Try this again.”

  I sipped from the spoon and gave an approving nod. “Tastes good! It’s not like Leo and I are friends so I couldn’t tell you if he’s a regular jerk but I never got that impression before now. We’ve never hung out. I’ve only spoken to him on the set.”

  “What about that time you ran into him in the hotel?”

  “What time?”

  “When you were wearing your robe,” Jay reminded me, holding back a laugh.

  I covered my face with my hands when the memory I’d worked hard to suppress zipped back into my head. “Mortifying!”

  Jay laughed, then stopped when I glared at him. “Oh, c’mon. That was funny!” he said before he tasted the sauce again.

  “My robe was stuck in the door and I was holding a signed copy of his book and I couldn’t move! I was just lucky he came along and ran to get housekeeping to let me back in. All I wanted to do was put my room service tray outside and then read his book. Instead, I nearly flashed the whole floor!”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “He said, ‘Hey, miss! Going somewhere?’ like I was going out… in my robe! Obviously, he was trying to be polite and save me from eternal embarrassment.”

  “No, silly, I meant now when you had your meet-cute.”

  “That was not a meet-cute. That was a collision.” I frowned, thinking about it. “He just told me to watch out. He didn’t seem to recognize me at all. He probably meets so many people, plus, I did just change my hair… and the clothes are all new. He probably had no idea who I was.” My heart sank a little and for a short moment, I felt ridiculous that I also harbored a crush on Leo. Not that I would tell anyone. I was supposed to be a serious baker!

  “Well, you look great,” said Jay. “Not that you didn’t earlier but… okay, you do look better now. I can’t hide it. I need to know how this came about.”

  I grinned and got up and did a happy spin. “I do look good, don’t I?”

  “Stunning. So what are you making for your first challenge. Cupcakes, right? Flavor?”

  “My favorite.”

  “Red velvet with cream cheese frosting?”

  “Nope. My new favorite. Death by chocolate.”

  “Please tell me you’re going to bake one more batch tonight, and there will be enough leftovers for me.”

  “Nope, no more practicing but I promise I’ll make you a batch soon.”

  “Best roommate ever. Grab two bowls and I’ll serve you my special Pasta alla fridge leftovers,” he said as he tipped the pasta into a strainer over the sink and a plume of steam drifted upwards.

  “You made me dinner?”

  “I figured you might want a night off, and if you didn’t, I’d have the rest for lunch tomorrow. The TV remote control is yours tonight. I’m meeting the guys at the bar in an hour.”

  “I have a magazine to read. There’s an article with Rebecca Kurtz promoting her new cookbook.”

  “Research?”

  “Sort of, and maybe there’re some business tips. I saw the shop again today. The realtor wants a decision soon.”

  “Don’t let her pressure you. The shop is perfect for your bakery but the size makes it difficult for a lot of other businesses. Look how long it took to lease it last time. I think you can afford to wait.”

  “I don’t really have a choice. I still need more cash to invest. The town council are pressuring the landlord to get a lessee soon too.”

  “Use that to your advantage and get a rent reduction. Ask for the first six months reduced. That’ll help your cash flow.”

  I raised my eyebrows, momentarily surprised that I hadn’t thought of that. “That’s good advice, thank you.”

  Jay handed me a bowl of pasta, the fragrant sauce steaming, and then silverware that he hastily wrapped in a napkin. He offered me a glass of wine but I declined so he poured us both a glass of water and started to say, “Okay, so…”

  “This is going to be a pep talk, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t interrupt me! I was going to say you look great, Leo is probably going to fall at your feet and make my girlfriend horribly jealous, and then she’ll want to spend more time with you than me, and then you’ll effortlessly win the prize and open your bakery and I’ll be your best customer. I can see it all now. But mostly, I see free cookies for me and a cupcake on Fridays.”

  “Exactly like that, huh?” I rolled my eyes as I forked pasta into my mouth. “Not bad,” I told him.

  “It won’t win any prizes,” he laughed, “but you will. What could possibly go wrong?”

  Chapter Three

  I got to the town park long before I was scheduled to arrive and spent a pleasant twenty minutes sitting in the section not fenced off for the food festival or All Star Bakers’ big marquee. I was watching the dogwalkers and early morning joggers, my garment bag, with Meredith’s pretty clothes for the day, over my lap.

  Further down the street, where the entrance for the All Star Bakers filming lot was situated, I saw several people wearing ‘crew’ t-shirts heading inside.As I got to my feet, I realized I was starting a whole new chapter. I could only hope it was about to be the beginning of something incredible… and not a huge flop.

  By the time I walked down the street, the shuttlebus had pulled up, spilling out my competitors for the week and I joined in with them as we gave our names at the gate. Noah, the tall, skinny, junior producer with a shock of sandy brown hair came to meet us. Noah was a pleasingly familiar face, having been on hand to guide us through the previous day’s informal meeting. Then he checked off his list as he called out our names: Mia, George, Robin, Beth, Candice, and Penny.

  “Follow me and I’ll show you the dressing room. Hair and makeup will meet you there and they might have a few notes for you,” he said, pressing a finger to his earpiece, listening and confirming something before he consulted the clipboard in his hand. After a moment, he resumed, “If you need anything, just call for me, Noah, and I will do my best to help. Everyone on All Star Bakers wants you to have the best experience this week and we’ll do everything we can to ensure that.”

  “Is there a wardrobe allowance?” asked Beth, elbowing her way not-so-subtly to the front of our small crowd. She was a square-shouldered woman of average height and her hair was backcombed within an inch of its life, and a shade too dark, adding several years to her face.

  “Uh, no,” said Noah.

  “But what do we wear?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

  “The information packet you got by email said to arrive dressed in whatever you’re most comfortable wearing in the kitchen, with the exception of the color green. Just like on the show you already filmed.”

  “Why can’t we wear green?” she persisted. “I have a…”

  “It doesn’t film well,” cut in Noah. After a beat, he added, “You all look great!” Then he turned away but before he could take a step, Beth caught him by the elbow.

  “Can we get a masseuse in? I have this…”

  “Um… no,” said Noah, cutting her off quickly.

  “But…”

  “Still no. Looks like they’re ready for us,” he added, tapping his earpiece. I wondered if anyone communicated anything or he just made up the excuse to escape Beth. I’d never met her before now, but I was getting the impression she was hard work.

  “When will the check be mailed to me?” asked Beth, stopping Noah again.

  Noah’s chin lowered as if he weren’t sure he heard her correctly. “Excuse me?”

  “The check?” she repeated, slowly and louder.

  “For…”

  “For winning,” she said, her nostrils flaring slightly in annoyance as she enunciated each syllable. “Will they hand it to me on the show or mail it?”

  “Ahh, I see. Well, the thing is, you have to win first.” Noah pulled a face, like he was personally affronted by the question.

  “You think you’re going to win?” asked George with a snort.

  “I don’t think so. I know it. I’m the best here.” Beth crossed her arms and lifted her chin. I could imagine her doing exactly the same thing in kindergarten.

  “Pfft,” snorted George. With his graying hair he could have been a few years older than Beth but his face was round and jovial. Since he subsequently offered me his arm as we walked after Noah, I warmed to him. “I agree, she doesn’t think,” he said to me softly and winked.

  “We’re all competing,” said the blonde woman named Penny as she slipped off a pale green linen jacket. “This is a gameshow.” A small roll of her eyes displayed her contempt for Beth’s claims. I’d thought she was closer to mine and Robin’s ages, but now I observed her, I could see Penny was in her early forties, but her stylish attire and expensive haircut made me think she was several years younger.

  “And we all won our heats,” added Robin. She carried a pretty leather notebook, the corners clearly well-thumbed.

  “And we all know it’s rigged,” scoffed Beth. “The producers told me I’m going to win and the rest is just a formality. Baking melodrama.” She shrugged like it was nothing as Penny gaped at her before narrowing her eyes.

  “Is that true?” asked Mia, the youngest of our small group, a shocked flush rising to her cheeks. She smoothed her braids over her shoulders, reminding me I did the same motion with my hair when I felt self-conscious.

  Noah flapped his hands, forcing the contestants to back off. “That is not true,” he said. “Absolutely not.”

  “See?” Beth gave us a smug smile. “He has to say that but it’s a done deal.”

  “It’s not true that it’s pre-arranged who wins. I don’t know who would tell you that so perhaps you misunderstood something,” said Noah, calmly. “This is a genuine show and you’re all competing until there’s one person left and he or she will be the winner. You’ll all compete in the first show and at the end of each episode, someone will be eliminated until there’re only two left for the final competition at the end of the week. The winner will be announced at the end of that show and of course, you’re all invited to watch the tapings even after you’re eliminated.”

  “O-kaaaay,” said Beth. She gave an exaggerated wink, causing Noah to sigh. Even though he tried to cover his face with the clipboard, I saw the dramatic eye roll. I caught his eye and when he saw me trying to conceal my amused smile at Beth’s audacity with my hand, he relaxed and shook his head in exasperation.

  “Please follow me,” he said, beckoning us to fall in behind him, forcing George and I to unlink arms. After yesterday’s tour, I knew we were somewhere behind the marquee where our baking stations were set up, in a portion of the park that had been cordoned off from the public and the fair. Trucks with generators were hidden behind large partitions, powering the refrigerators, ovens, and appliances in the filming tent.

  On the side of the makeshift path were several more trucks. One for the crew, mobile dressing rooms for the judges, and another with lights and cameras where our filmed interviews would be conducted. A large competitors’ marquee held an array of furniture for us to relax, twin makeup stations, lockers, and areas for us to study our notes, get ready, and change. The final tent was for catering services to ensure all the cast and crew were fed and hydrated during the filming hours. The tour had been exciting, and not too unfamiliar from the previous heat. Now that we were heading to our tent, I was cautious not to let my nerves show.

  “What did you make of all that?” asked Robin, nudging me and pointing to Beth.

  “Overly confident?” I suggested diplomatically but with raised eyebrows.

  Mia hooted. “Pompous, more like. Did you see the show she won on?”

  “I did.” Each series of All Star Bakers was filmed over an eight-week period. My heat had been fourth and wouldn’t air until next week. Beth’s episode had aired first, followed by Robin’s. Mia’s would be this week. By the time the last heat aired, this week’s filming would be close to its finish in the editing room. Apparently, the producers felt a fast filming and editing schedule was the best way to prevent leaks, especially as the show grew in popularity, and we all had to sign nondisclosure agreements preventing us from discussing any aspect of our shows, especially since we’d been privileged to get an advanced showing of the remaining episodes.

  “Surprising amount of accidents on that episode.” Robin darted a sideways glance at me.

  “I noticed that,” I said. “They had a rough week.”

  “I think someone had a very interesting week while the rest of her competitors were marked down for over salting, flopped soufflés, and wrong ingredients…”

  I stopped, momentarily surprised. “Are you suggesting sabotage?” I asked.

  “All I’m saying is we should all take a lot of care around our stations.” Robin gave me a knowing look. She tucked the notebook she carried into her purse and pulled out a lipstick, checking her reflection in a small compact mirror. “Rebecca recommended this shade in an article about her signature style,” she said. “Isn’t it stunning? A luxury treat to myself for getting on the show,” she added, beaming her pleasure and moving away before I could agree.

 

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