She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a breath. “I’m really sorry. I’m Taylor. I’m here for the baking competition... Are you okay?”
She’s stammering, tripping over her own words, face bright red, spiraling. Her curls bounce as she moves, her hair clip barely hanging on.
Looks like contestant ten finally showed up—and she’s a fucking disaster.
CHAPTER 5: TAYLOR
No—no, no, no, no… This cannot be happening.
Thiscannot be the first impression I give to a room full of brilliant home bakers I’m supposed to bond with for the next however many weeks.
Not only was I absolutely, definitivelynothere before seven o’clock, I’ve already managed to body-check one of the production assistants and catapult him across the foyer like a human cannonball, clipboard and all.
Reaching forward, trembling hands clutching the papers I’ve managed to gather, I steady our fallen friend and offer a tentative smile while stealing a quick glance at his lanyard badge.
Joe.
He smiles weakly in return, clearing his throat before turning back toward the now awkwardly silent group of competitors.
“As I was saying, before I was… uh,launched.”Joe clears his throat again. “We have five minutes scheduled for each of your personal introductions. Say whatever you’d like, the only rule is to be yourself. Chloe Park? You’re up first.”
I’m more embarrassed than I’ve ever been. My pulse is basically in my ears and my hands are full of quivering static, but I force myself to look up and see a girl around my age step forward.
She quickly reaches behind her head to release her glossy, pin-straight hair from its bun. Deep, almond-brown eyes meet mine for a brief moment, but she doesn’t smile my way. Just casts her gaze on Joe, who’s leading the way up the wide floating staircase to the second floor.
The entire group moves to the couches in the living room where we wait for our turn to do our introduction. I plaster afriendly smile on my face, nestling on a cushion between two of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever met.
A round of rapid-fire introductions is done for my benefit. I smile, nod, and softly repeat each of their names, committing them immediately to memory.
“It’s so nice to meet all of you,” I say, allowing my gaze to linger on each of their faces. It’s important to me that they each feel seen. “I’m Taylor, and I really want to apologize for being late. I’d like to say that it isn’t like me, but I also believe in being honest.”
That gets a laugh from Jasper, who places a big hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Don’t worry about it, you didn’t miss anything important. Besides, you got great air on that PA toss. Iconic.”
Heat rushes to my face at the memory of the door smacking into poor Joe. That’s definitely going to leave a mark. I make a mental note to whip him up a batch of apology cookies during our downtime tonight.
“Sure, don’t worry about things like timeliness. That won’t be a problem in a baking competitionat all.”
Alex’s voice is sharper than I expect. I keep my smile in place, meeting his gaze and taking him in.
Everything about him screams prestige—expensive-looking shoes, perfectly coiffed brown hair, flawless posture. But it’s his eyes that hold me: icy, piercing blue, aimed right at me like he’s trying to freeze me in place.
If looks could kill, I’d be done for.
Across from me, RaeAnn gives the smallest wince, like she’s trying not to react to Alex’s retort. A small breath of relief slips through me. At least I’m not the only one who recognized that dig for what it was.
A laugh bubbles out of me a moment later, unsure how else to respond. Obviously, I didn’t mean to be late. And even more obviously, I’ll be using anentire armyof timers when I bake.
I’m late, not reckless.
“Alex,” Diane chastises in a low voice. “Leave that poor girl alone. She just got here. She did her best, let that be that.”
He doesn’t respond, instead glowering at her out of the corner of his eye and folding his arms across his chest. I don’t understand his hostility.
If I’m late, that doesn’t hurt anybody but me.
“It’s okay, Diane. If Alex wants to be a crabby patty on day one, let him. No amount of grumpiness is going to change the fact that we’re all here! We’re on America’s Next Great Baker!”
Excitement has me bouncing slightly in my seat.
