At least there were only two competitions that required us to team up. It would be fine. I mean, how much damage could Karl do in two hours?
* * *
“Well, the shells look great,”I offered, not helpful in the least.
Charlie ground his teeth together. “I can’t believe we failed the first challenge.”
We both looked at the pitiful display in front of us. The macarons looked drunk, hanging every which way.
Turned out presentation wasn’t Karl’s strong suit. I didn’t actually know what was, since his personality left a lot to be desired as well.
It was no surprise that the judges gave us a low score, despite the macarons tasting delicious. I should know, since I ate five of them. Stressful situations made me reach for the baked goods.
Karl stomped away as soon as the cameras turned off, and Charlie and I cleaned up. He turned to me with a grin, not looking in the least perturbed that he got stuck on dish duty. “Well, that was interesting.”
I washed the bowls and put them on the drying rack, wondering how Karl needed four bowls to make crème brûlée. Did he put each ingredient in a fresh bowl? “That’s one word for it.”
I tried prying the top off the shaker that he’d used for who knew what, but the thing was stuck. Wiggling it back and forth eventually pried it loose. It came off with a loud pop, and my hand shot back.
It collided with something solid, and I turned toward a pained sound. Charlie hunched forward, hand on his nose.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry.” I grabbed tissues and leaned closer, trying to see how much damage I’d done.
His nose was bleeding, and I pressed the tissues to it. “I’ll get some ice. And a wet towel.” He grabbed the tissue, and I turned to the sink. “Do you want painkillers?”
“Don’t worry about it. The bleeding will stop soon.” Charlie’s voice came out muffled from behind the tissue.
I couldn’t believe I’d punched him. My hands were trembling under the cold water, and the cloth slipped out of them twice.
This was the worst first day I’d ever had. It even beat my first day at school, when everyone made fun of me for living in a trailer.
But Charlie was right, and it didn’t take long for the bleeding to stop. I ran the cloth over his face, needing to help to make myself feel better. When he didn’t protest at the intrusion, I continued until there wasn’t a speck of blood left on him.
“I’m so sorry for hitting you.” My eyes fell on a spot on his shirt. “I got blood on your shirt.”
The cloth came out again, and I rubbed at his clothes. “Let me see if we have any vinegar in one of our fake kitchens.”
His hand grabbed mine that was still on his chest, stilling my erratic movements. “Rayna, it’s fine. Really. The shirt isn’t mine. Wardrobe made me put it on.”
I looked up, hoping I didn’t let my crazy shine too much today. “I guess I better stop invading your personal space, then.” I stepped back with a nervous chuckle. “How’s the nose?”
He softly prodded the side of said nose and grimaced. “A little tender. But I’ll be as good as new tomorrow.”
I let out a relieved breath. He seemed okay with getting a bloody nose. Even if it was an accident.
I plastered a half smile on my face and put my hand on his arm. “Let’s get you back to the hotel. The least I can do is ensure you make it to your room without another incident.”
He burst out laughing. “I guess since we’re going to the same place, we might as well share a taxi.”
The ride back was short, and we spent it talking about the show and what was still to come. I wasn’t sure I’d survive twelve weeks of filming. The new, shiny sparkle had already worn off, leaving a dull light in its place.
But my goals hadn’t changed, and I’d do anything to reach them. We were just experiencing a stuttering start to what was sure to be a great show.
The taxi dropped us outside the hotel, and Charlie took my hand to help me out.
We walked into the lobby, still chatting, and my body finally relaxed. I’d been strung tight since the moment I’d first stepped on the set. My blissful state lasted until I spotted Grayson coming out of the elevator, a raven-haired beauty hanging off his arm. I recognized her from our first dinner.
“Rayna,” he greeted me, then pointedly looked at Charlie. “What are you guys doing out here this late?”
