I blink, refocus, and then fight back a spurt of panic as I realize I don’t actually know. “I have a few ideas. Maybe you and Nellie can come over after work and I’ll test them out on you?”
He frowns. “I hate leaving Jinxy alone for much longer…”
My desperation spikes a notch, a frantic clawing in my chest like I swallowed Jinxy whole. “Please,” I plead. The fact is, Ican already feel myself sliding into panic mode. This audition is an ice-covered hill. The prize is glistening brightly on top; my demise is a pool of sludge below, and I’ve got nothing but ballet slippers to trek the hill. “You can bring Jinxy if you need to,” I say.
Mr. Bruce grins. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
CHAPTER 2
Patty, who has an affinity for polka-dot dresses, sashays down the hall as soon as I step out of Mr. Bruce’s office.
I stifle a groan; I don’t have enough energy to climb an ice hill, prepare for my live segment,andcombat Patty’s petty prattle about how she’s going to get the job instead of me.
“Congrats on being my future runner-up forGet Cookin’,” she says, then laughs so hard she snorts. Today’s dress is green with white dots, perfectly matching her manicure. “You might have won last time, but I’ll get you…”
I wait for her to call me herlittle prettybecause it seems appropriate here. We simply need a pointy hat and a broomstick to complete the scene.
“I guess we’ll see,” I say, spotting Nellie hurrying toward us.
“Hey, Patty, when’s your next live segment?” she asks, then does a face-palm. “Oh, never mind, you’re still after Saturday morning cartoons, right?”
“Hardy har, har,” Patty says. “Very funny. But soon, I’ll be taking a prime spot with Channel Foodie, baby.”
Nellie brings a loose fist to her mouth and coughs her reply. “Doubt it.”
“What cookie are you featuring?” I ask. If I know Patty, she has something sneaky up her sleeve.
Patty wags a finger. “Wouldn’tyoulike to know? I have a little motto:Go extra or go home.”
“It’s gobigor go home,” Nellie corrects.
Patty pops out one hip. “Well,I’mextra.I’mgoing big, andshe’sgoing home.” She points a polka-dot nail at me, nearly touching the tip of my nose.
I go cross-eyed to stare at it, then take a step back.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Nellie snaps.
I loop a hand around Nellie’s arm and pull her with me as I walk. “We’ve got to go. Good luck, Patty.”
Nellie pipes up over her shoulder, “See you after Looney Toons.”
Once we’re to the kitchen, I grab Nellie’s other arm and spin her so we’re face to face. “It’s down to me and her. We’re auditioning for the network’s test audience.”
“With which segment?” Nellie asks.
“The holiday cookie. Patty’s is tomorrow, and mine’s on Tuesday.”
Nellie grins. “She’s going first.”
“Right. I have a few recipes in mind. Want to help me test them out? I’ll hurry home after my segment and get started.”
“Sure, but I’ll have to be quick since I’ve got that date.” It seems like she means to say more, but she stops short and grabs hold of my arm.
“What?” I whisper-shout, my heart thumping that distant, doomsday beat.
Nellie shakes her head. “Nothing, you’re going to do great.” Her cheeks flush pink, which only happens when she’s lying, and Nellie—the queen of candid—almost never lies.
“Spit it out,” I urge.
