“Twelve? You two knew each other before the show?” Her stance relaxed.
“We used to be friends.” I inched my way to the side, planning on a quick escape. “But you need to talk to him about all this. I need to get to the set.”
Just when I thought I was home free, a hand on my arm stopped me. Her nails dug into the skin of my exposed arm, pressing on the bruises already there. I cringed but didn’t move.
“It only takes a little chat with one of the producers to get you kicked off. I saw you come in with Grayson this morning. Slutting it up on set isn’t allowed.”
With that ominous warning, she stalked down the hallway. I watched her disappear around a corner and knew I was screwed. She wasn’t going to let this go. I’d technically done nothing wrong, but our meetings would look bad, no matter how we spun it.
Breathless, I burst onto the set, earning myself a scowl from the director. With an apologetic shrug and smile, I went to my station.
We were in the middle of making a Baked Alaska—which would usually take a lot longer than two hours and was impossible as a premade cake mix—when Elise, one of the other three remaining contestants, rushed up to me.
“Rayna, you have to help me,” she hissed, tugging on my sleeve. I stopped whipping up my nemesis, egg white—no stiff peaks yet—taking in her trembling hands.
“What’s wrong?”
“I dropped my engagement ring in the batter and can’t find it.”
There was only one way to deal with this problem. “Leave it in there. If you can’t find it when you spoon out the batter, bake it. And once they finish judging, take the cake apart to find it.”
Not convinced of my plan, she looked at me with pleading eyes. “What if they bite into it? Isn’t there anything you can do?”
“Slice it up really thinly when you serve it.”
She would most definitely find the monstrosity she wore on her finger if she sliced her cake small enough.
“Are you sure that will work?”
“Very sure.”
She thought on it for a moment, then took a breath. “Okay. Yeah. I think that’s a good idea. Thanks, Rayna.”
I offered her an encouraging smile and squeezed her shoulder. “No problem.”
Elise frowned at my mixer. “I think there’s something wrong with your egg whites. Even my peaks are stiffer than yours. And I added extra ingredients.”
A glance into the bowl confirmed I’d have to help this along once again. With a sigh, I got to it. The rest of the cake worked out beautifully, and thirty minutes later, I had a finished Baked Alaska in front of me. The plan was to light it when the judges were there for added dramatics.
I was fairly certain the fact that you had to set the cake on fire was the only reason the show included it.
Once the judging finished, we had to wait for them to decide on the elimination. Mae nervous-cleaned whatever she could get her hands on, which meant I didn’t need to lift a finger to get sparkling clean pots and bowls.
“Your cake was amazing. There’s no way you’ll get kicked out,” I tried to reassure her, but she shrugged me off and continued scrubbing. “If anyone should be worried, it’s me.”
And not just because I’d barely scraped today’s recipe together but because Wynona looked like she’d try anything to get me off the show.
Ezra came back into the room and clapped his hands. “Gather around, bakers. The time for reckoning is here.”
I rolled my eyes. He said the same thing every time, and it was getting old.
“I found my ring,” Elise whispered while the judges positioned themselves in the front of the room. “Thanks so much, Rayna.”
I gave her a thumbs-up, and we all assumed our assigned positions. There were a few marks on the floor, not only at each station but also in front of the room, telling us where to stand.
The judging happened at the front, and we were all lined up, waiting for the proverbial hammer to fall. We were shooting each other wobbly smiles, and I fought hard not to clench my hands.
“And the person going home today is….” There was a dramatic pause that elicited eye rolls from every single participant and lasted entirely too long. “George.”
