“That looks toxic,” Fiona joked as she looked over at the bright-orange liquid I was stirring.
“I know, right?” I said, adding in several gelatin sheets. I poured the thick liquid into the mold then started on the eggnog custard. In my Christmas world, eggnog should be thicker than heavy cream and contain copious amounts of rum. I grated nutmeg and cinnamon into the double boiler while I stirred.
Now that I was comfortable with my desserts, I couldn't help but notice that Owen was still in the room. Normally he hightailed it out of there as soon as the camera crew took their shots of the judges. Except there he was, studying me.
I took a sip of the rum. I still wasn't sure where we stood. He had kissed my neck, and I had made excessive jokes about his dick then fled like a teenager when he tried to kiss me.
“Stop staring at my boyfriend!” Amber screeched, causing me to almost spill the hot eggnog custard all over the table.
“He's not—you know what, never mind,” I said, trying to keep my hands steady as I poured the last of the hot liquid into the last mold.
“You do realize,” I said, turning to Amber after I jiggled the molds, “that you're not the only person trying to lay claim to him, right?”
“You—”
“Not me,” I said, holding up my hands. “This girl named Sloane.”
Amber's eyes narrowed, and she went back to furiously chopping walnuts.
“Setting crazy after crazy,” Fiona remarked. “Nice.”
“Hopefully they'll keep each other occupied,” I said.
“So you can slip in there.”
“I don't know. He's a judge.”
Fiona shrugged. “It's the holidays. Everyone knows things can be wild. There's all those memes about people going sexually crazy at holiday parties.”
32
Owen
Iknew I should go up to my office and work, but Holly was so mesmerizing.
Walker:Earth to Owen. Were you kidnapped by the elf on the shelf?
Owen:I'm at the bake-off.
Walker:Seriously? What about the TechBiz contest? We still need to figure out what we're doing. They're going to start doing surprise walk-throughs any day now.
Owen:Relax. I have it under control. I hired Holly.
Walker:Uh sure ok so that seems like it's going to turn into a problem. She's going to be working for you, but then you're also sleeping with her.
Owen:I'm not sleeping with her.
Walker:Could have fooled me.
I wanted to, though. The fifties had really known how to dress women. With every motion, the full skirt swished around her legs, her ankles delicate in the heels, her waist cinched in that hourglass figure. She looked like a Christmas present I wanted to carefully unwrap. Her motions were expert yet feminine, but when she used a blow torch to caramelize the sugar, the way she stood with her legs spread made her look ever so slightly dangerous.
I felt as if I could stare at her for hours. When I looked up at the clock, I realized I had.
“I’m excited to see these desserts,” Nick said. “It seems like everyone's found their groove.”
Unfortunately, I had to sit through several desserts before Holly's.
“Fifties housewives were very proud of their cakes,” Amber said. “And it was in vogue to make them shaped like animals, trains, or flowers.” She presented each of us with a cake shaped like the head of a reindeer.
