“Yeah.”She yawns and flushes.It’s almost midnight, we’re all tired.She clicks some buttons.“Got it.”
Coach walks over to her seat, and she hands him her computer.He scans the screen and hits a button.
“Where’s the extension?”he asks.
“I don’t have one,” I say.
He turns to me.“You didn’t sign it?Was there a problem with the terms?”
I shake my head.“I haven’t seen any terms.”
My teammates are shooting glances at each other.
“You have an agent, right?”
“Yeah.”I don’t know Phil well, and we haven’t spoken since I arrived in Atlantic City.
“You need to call them tomorrow because we presented an extension offer when you got here.If you haven’t seen it, that needs to get straightened out.Every player on this plane was offered an extension.You’re a Devil Bird, and we want to keep you.”
I don’t want to cry in front of my team, but it’s hard.I cough to clear the frog in my throat.“Thanks, Coach.”
Lindy calls out from the back of the plane.“What kind of work do you do?”
“My degree is in computer engineering.I specialize in game design and development.But I do general software and web design and development too.”
“Well,” Coach says, “don’t plan on working in your field for another year at least.”
The team cheers, and for once, I don’t feel like it’s a cult.
I feel like it’s a family.And I belong here.
30
PHOEBE
It’sa short ride to the local college where the contest is being held.They have a culinary arts program, so there are ovens and prep areas for us to work in and space for an audience.I’m familiar with this sort of environment from my time in France.We meet the other teams and the people running the contest.They’re recording it to pitch the concept to different networks.The goal is to discover the best baker by region first, then pit them against each other to crown the Pastry Pro Champion.It’s all tournament-style, like college basketball or the Dickinson Cup Playoffs.It’s a neat concept if they can get it picked up.But all I care about is winning this weekend.
I’ve never been in a kitchen this cold before.Glancing up, I see the vents.I assume when the ovens are on, it’ll even out and be comfortable, but until then, I want to snuggle up with Ollie and share his warmth.The demo kitchens we’ll be using are gorgeous with excellent equipment.I can’t wait to cook in this space.
The host is Dakota Dallas, who used to work for one of the cable television shopping networks.He’s in his mid-forties and too tan for early March in New Jersey, with dyed black hair and bleached white teeth.I don’t dare look at Andie because we’ll start laughing the second our eyes meet.I always get the giggles when I’m nervous anyway, but add in his ridiculousness, and I’m screwed.
“Hey, gang!”he says in what he must consider his “announcer voice.”It’s obnoxiously cheerful and too loud for nine in the morning.“Welcome to the Pastry Pro Championships.We’re here in beautiful Shifting Pines, New Jersey, in the shadow of the famous Atlantic City skyline, to see which team is the best South Jersey has to offer.Let’s meet our teams!”
The camera moves down the line, team by team, until it gets to us.I plaster on a smile and deliver the lines production gave us.
“I’m Phoebe,” I say.
“And I’m Andie,” Andie says.
“And we’re the Hockey Honeys representing Snarky Sweet!”we say in unison.
I’m impressed we made it through without gagging.That’s never how we’d introduce ourselves.But the introduction isn’t the only concession we’ve had to make.Andie made us awesome new aprons, and we’d planned to put “Bitch’n Bakery” on them, but couldn’t.Something about moral standards.*Eye roll*
And Ihatethe Hockey Honeys bit.
Daphne hooked us up with team T-shirts so we could represent the Devil Birds.Ollie’s name and number are on my back, and Colby’s are on Andie’s.As hokey as it is, I love having the name “King” on my back.Not that I want to be considered property, but I want everyone to know Ollie and I are together.I’m wearing my engagement ring on a chain around my neck, tucked into my shirt, and the blue heart earrings Ollie surprised me with to coordinate with my ring.
After the introductions, the producer—a Hispanic woman named Carla who could be anywhere from thirty-five to sixty-five years old—clears her throat to get everyone’s attention.Once she has it, she says, “Okay, we’re going to bring the audience in and announce the theme of spring wedding and the first challenge—create a floral-themed sweet treat.We want you to react, this is not the time to be reserved.Don’t overact and be a fool, but give us something to work with.Each team will need a leader to speak on their behalf, so if you haven’t already, decide who will be the team spokesperson.”
