Three judges made their rounds about the room, each taking their respective portions. After each bite, there was a thoughtful pause, followed by theclinkof silverware, and several critiques filled with praise.
The woman in the yellow suit jacket was a judge, as well as another woman who was more petite with hair that looked too red to be natural. The third judge was a squat-looking man who hadn’t looked like he smiled since the Thatcher years.
When they reached Eliza’s table, she held her breath.
The youngest judge, the lady with the yellow suit jacket, approached first and politely introduced herself as Ruby. “Winter Hearth Scones,” she read the card aloud. “Nice ring to it, yeah, Babs?” Ruby winked. “Let’s see if they can withstand the heat of the competition here tonight, shall we?”
She plucked a scone before lifting it high into the air and clinking each of the other judges’ scones like she was making a toast. Ruby took a bite. The other judges followed.
A hush fell over the entire tent. Eliza’s hands felt numb. They trembled now as she looked down at them.
Then, Ruby snagged another bite, considering. “This is brilliant. A unique blend of zest and cranberries.”
The second judge with flaming red hair just silently nodded. The third judge eyed the dessert under his spectacles.
Eliza made eye contact with Gretel and widened her eyes.Oh God, they hate it.
“I could’ve used a touch more coarse sugar or nuts to add that extracrunch,” said the old man. For someone who tasted sweets all the time, he sure looked sour.
Eliza nodded, taking the critique with dignity. Beside her, Gretel fought not to burst out into laughter. Eliza bit her lip to keep from cracking a smile in the midst of this semi-serious setting.
When the judge turned away, Gretel leaned in, muttering, “He could use the extra sugar.”
Finally, the judge with the red hair smacked her lips, and she placed her plate on the table. She dabbed her lips with a napkin. She looked at the nametag on Eliza’s shirt. “Ms. Snow, is it? I never finish a dish. And I want seconds.” She winked, wrote something down on her clipboard, then stalked away to the next contestant, along with the other judges.
Gretel nearly burst out into applause behind her. Eliza looked down at her scones, a handful still left on the table, and she began to feel her heartbeat slow.
The team of judges huddled together on the platform, murmuring amongst themselves. Ruby gave a curt nod before once again taking center stage.
Eliza caught Lachlan’s eyes from across the room to find his were already fixed on her. He gave a smile, pulled out his phone, and typed.
Her phone buzzed. It was from Lachlan.
Win or lose? You’re the only one I’d want to be snowed in with.
Eliza blinked down at the message. Her cheeks bloomed with warmth despite the cold winter air coming through the tent’s flaps. Her heart swelled with something that felt a lot like hope.
She just smiled up at Lachlan.Maybe I wouldn’t be so upset if I didn’t win this thing, after all.
Before she could type a reply, Ruby cleared her throat.
“A warm thank you to everyone for attending the seventy-fifth annual Baking Spirits Bright.” Her tone was sharp but professional. “This year’s entries were some of the most ambitious and delicious—” she turned toward Eliza and gave her a wink. “—we’ve had to date.
“Third place goes to Frank Mendel and his WaterGate Salad.” For a second, no one in the room said anything. Eliza looked to Frank, who was still looking up at the spokeswoman anxiously.
“Mr. Mendel,” Gretel cleared her throat loudly. “It’s you! You’ve won third place.”
“Oh!” Frank scrambled to his feet. Gretel rushed over to help grab his walker with tennis balls on the bottom.
“Second place goes to Mrs. Elle Toe and her Candied Pecan Pie.”
Everyone in the room applauded. Mrs. Elle Toe waltzed up to the stage to receive her prize. When she came back, she cast Eliza a wink. “Good luck, honey.”
Gretel grabbed Eliza’s hand and squeezed; her lavender brows lifted high. “They’ve never in history both gotten outbaked. Eliza, I think you’re?—”
Eliza felt her stomach drop. The anticipation and the grand prize were all too much to bear. She held her breath, refusing to let disappointment claim her too early.
“And finally,” Ruby continued, looking out over the crowd, “coming in first place …”
