Iforced myself to concentrate on the Meet the In-Laws challenge and not let my mind wander to Jack.
"Meeting your significant other's parents and family for the first time can be nerve wracking, especially if his mother asks you to bring a dessert. What do you bring?" Anastasia said to the camera. "We are challenging the contestants to make their perfect dessert to impress the in-laws during the Christmas season."
I had wanted to keep my ingredients safe in Jack’s penthouse, but we had to have them down in the sound studio kitchen so we could pretend to go shopping. Hopefully Hartleigh had not messed with them.
I was going to make a mille crepe cake with an orange liqueur crème and cranberry jelly alternating between the paper-thin crepe layers. The whole cake would be covered with chocolate ganache, and I was going to make pear caramel pieces in the shape of tiny snowflakes to decorate the cake. Each person would have an individual tiny cake; therefore I would have to make a lot of crepes. One single large crepe would yield three small circles. We had to make at least four plates of desserts, one for each judge and one for the production crew to film. I checked the clock. I would spend most of my time today making crepes.
My ingredients seemed fine, and I made caramel. I was going to use it in the piping gun to make caramel pear snowflakes. The device from Platinum Provisions could pipe hot liquids as well as cold. I'd used it before for making candy. For frosting, one could easily use a plastic bag with a nozzle, but to pipe anything hot or sticky, Jack's machine was the best. As I funneled the piping-hot mixture into the chamber of the device, I smiled to myself, thinking about being with him.
The gun sat on my hand so that I could more easily control it, and after making sure I had a good grasp on it, I began to pipe the caramel. It sizzled as it hit the parchment paper. I heard a crack then felt burning-hot caramel run over my hand. I screamed in pain.
"It's burning!" I yelled. Nina rushed over and grabbed me, dragging me to the sink and turning on the cold water full blast.
"Oh no!" I cried. Anastasia hurried over.
"What happened?"
"The piping gun broke," Nina said.
"It’s a very expensive piece of equipment. It doesn’t just break, does it?" Anastasia asked.
One of the production assistants hurried over with a first aid kit. The other contestants had all stopped their baking and were watching me. I regarded Hartleigh through the tears in my eyes. She looked as if she was stifling a triumphant smile.
"I'm going to kill her," I seethed. "Hartleigh messed with my piping gun. Every station has a box of identical Platinum Provisions equipment, and she must have snuck in here and tampered with the one at my station somehow. I am seriously going to kill her!"
"Don't kill her," Nina hissed. "They'll kick you out. You can't prove anything."
"How bad is my hand?" I asked her, not daring to look.
"It's red, but it's not blistering or anything," Nina told me.
Another contestant, Maria, came over with a plastic bag holding some sort of thick green plant. She slit the spiky green plant down the length and rubbed it all over my hand. The gooey green gel smelled a little bitter, but my hand felt better.
"Leave it on," Maria said, coating my hand in the gel and sliding a glove on. "It will help the burn. You'll be good as new. Can't be a baker without being burned!"
I sniffled.
"Don't cry, mamí. There's no crying in the kitchen!" she said, wiping my eyes.
Zane was up close in my face, filming my reaction. I wanted to scream at him but knew that wouldn't do any good. I managed a shaky smile.
My hand felt stiff—I didn't know if it was the glove or the burn. I hoped it was just the glove. I forced myself to limp along. Because my hand was so stiff, I knew I needed to change my dessert to something simpler than the elaborate little crepe cakes. I settled on a flourless chocolate cake with ganache and candied pears. I hoped it would be enough to keep me from being kicked out.
The production assistant swept up the broken equipment.
"Save it," I told her. I wanted Jack to look at it.
Or did I? I wondered as I baked. Jack had a lot on his plate. He was dealing with finding tenants and running his company. Did I really want to burden him with my problems?
While my cakes baked, I took the glove off. My hand seemed okay, if a little red.
"Put the glove back on!" Maria called out while she whisked various sauces.
I put it back on after smearing more aloe vera on my hand.
Thankfully my cakes came out beautifully. I let them rest while I candied the little pieces of pears and made the ganache. Determined to at least bring something Christmassy to my dessert, I made a bright-red cranberry sauce and a bright minty-green sauce and painted little sprigs of holly on each of the plates. Then I placed the little round cakes on the plates and doused them with the glossy chocolate ganache, finishing them with a sprinkle of candied pears.
I looked at the plate sadly. It seemed a little basic. I knew it tasted good, but it wasn't what I had wanted to make.
