Jerome and Cole have made a sugar cookie wreath covered in cookie stars. It’s messy, and their base is a bit uneven. I’m afraid decorating isn’t their forte.
Anne hasn’t left her workstation this entire time. Her ankle looks awful this morning, but Tammy said she could have a stool behind the bench. Jessica is doing all the running, and Anne’s doing the bulk of the decorating on their lemon cutout angel wreath.
I finish mixing the icing just as Mason reaches us. “Sadie and Harper, tell us about your wreath.”
“We’re making a butter cookie wreath,” Sadie answers. “We’ve baked a solid base, and we’re going to decorate it with the cookie holly leaves Harper is working on. I’ve sugared sprigs of rosemary, and we’ll add those to give it some color.”
“Oh, and dried orange slices,” I add, glancing toward the ingredient cart, reminding myself I still need to grab those.
As I look that way, Chrissy looks up. Our eyes meet, and she gives me a tight, snooty smile.
I ignore her and turn back to Mason.
“We have thirty minutes left,” he reminds us. “How are you doing time-wise?”
“I had to make another batch of royal icing, but other than that, I think we’re doing well.”
He smiles in that dazzling way that’s for the cameras. “I’ll let you girls get back to it.”
Immediately, I begin to spoon icing into the piping bag. Mason’s camera crew is already heading to Scott and Misty’s station, but Mason hangs back.
“Meet me in my room after the judging,” he whispers near my ear. “Oh, and you have powdered sugar on your cheek.”
I catch myself smiling as I attempt to brush it away with the back of my hand. I hold my breath, waiting for him to say something else, but after another hesitant moment, he heads toward Scott and Misty.
“Harper,” Sadie whispers, her blue eyes sparkling in the bright kitchen lights. “I think he actually likes you.”
I glance over at Mason, and he meets my eyes. I know we’re playing right into Tammy’s hand, but I can’t bring myself to care.
“I think I might like him too,” I admit quietly.
Sadie gives me a hopeful look. I know she wants Mason and me to hit it off—then she won’t feel guilty about Brandon. But she doesn’t realize that I don’t blame her, not really.
I don’t blame Brandon either. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If we were meant to be, it would have happened already. We had all the time in the world, and something kept us apart.
After I finish icing the edges of the holly leaves, I set down my bag of frosting. “I’m going to grab the dried oranges,” I tell Sadie.
She nods absently and sets another sprig of newly sugared rosemary on the tray to dry. They look perfect. The sugar is delicate—heavy, but not clumpy or messy. “I think I’m going to sugar some cranberries too. What do you think?”
“Sounds pretty.”
We chose not to tint our frosting and left it a bright, snowy white instead. We need several pops of color for contrast.
I walk past Chrissy and Christy’s station and give their wreath a surreptitious glance. They already have their gingerbread elves attached, and now Chrissy is making a decorative ribbon as Christy pipes green pine sprigs between the cookies, tying the scene together.
It looks amazing.
Trying not to let nerves get the best of me, I browse the ingredient shelves, looking for the oranges.
“I know they’re here,” I mutter as I shuffle canisters and boxes about.
“What are you looking for, Harper?” Shannon, one of the show’s home economists, hurries over to ask.
“The dried orange slices.”
She frowns and begins to rifle through things herself. “I know we had some.”
After a moment, she shakes her head. “Someone must be using them.”
