Out in the audience, Hunter was glowering in Brody’s direction.
Maybe Hunter and his brothers will finish him off, and I won’t have to worry about it.
Merrie and I were up next.
“One of the traditional Christmas gifts from the Victorian period was fruit,” Merrie began as I wheeled the jelly rolls on their cart in front of the judges. “We used our jelly rolls as a way to showcase local fruit from Harrogate.”
That was a good line. Since Meg’s the mayor, she can’t say no to local fruit.
I handed Merrie the knife, and she carefully sliced off pieces of the round cakes for the judges.
Nick picked up a slice of the pear and nodded appreciatively.
“This is good fruit.”
“I grew it at my farm,” I bragged.
“I might need to get you to start supplying my restaurants in New York.”
“We’d be happy to.”
“Where are you growing pears in Harrogate?” Anu asked Meg.
“I own a vertical farm,” I said smoothly. “We employ a number of local residents.”
Anu peered at the variety of cakes.
“Let me guess which one you did,” she said and pointed at the chocolate cake.
“I helped on many of them,” I said.
“Remember in a bake-off, you’re stronger together. You have to work as a team,” Anu said. “Gone are the days of the pastry chef alone in the kitchen. You have to work together.”
“That wasn’tas bad as last time,” I whispered to Merrie while we waited for the judges to announce the winners
“You were using the bake-off as a pitch for your company,” she hissed at me.
“Hey, you can stand up there and shill ornaments the next time,” I promised. “At the very least, there’s no way we’re at the bottom.”
But when the judges came out, the first thing they said was our team and the pair that had made the dozen rolls needed to come to the front.
“Matt and Merrie,” Anu said, “while we did enjoy your cakes and your commitment to local food and fresh ingredients, everyone else had a much stronger showing.”
“We had better fruit,” I protested.
Merrie kicked me.
“Wen and May created cakes that were more than the sum of their parts because they worked together.”
Barf. What a fucking after-school special. Who cares about teamwork?
“I can’t believewe’re in the bottom again!” Merrie yelled at me after filming.
“The fans will save us,” I said, annoyed that the judges had put us at the bottom. “Just post some shirtless photos of me.”
“I don’t want to see you shirtless,” she said, horrified. “Once was enough.”
“Once was enough?” I was stunned as Merrie hurried off into the Christmas market.
