She turned on the mixer, sifting the ingredients off the side of the bowl with her spoon as it spun, and for the first time in a long time, didn’t miss stirring by hand a single bit. This was faster. And right now, time was what she needed most of all.
That, and for her baking assistant to get his apron strings out of a wad. What was wrong with him? She powered down the mixer and began spooning the batter into the cups he finally finished lining. She wouldn’t look at the clock. Wouldn’t look at the—oh man, these cupcakes better bake fast. Now they were at risk of the icing melting off before plating them for the judges. Maybe she could use the freezer for just a minute . . .
“Here, I’ll put them in.”
Lucas reached for the pan, but she found herself snatching it away as if on autopilot. “I’ve got it.”
The hurt in his eyes before he briefly closed them registered deep, but she almost didn’t care. No, she did. Just not enough to change her mind. After all, he’d left this to her to fix, left her alone in the emergency, and worst of all—left her alone in her emotion over what had happened between them the day before.
How much of this was about burned cupcakes anyway?
She slid the tray into the oven and set the timer, then crossed her arms and waited. Directly in front of the window. No way were these cakes burning. She looked at the clock again, then at Lucas, and her heart sank for two different reasons.
They might not make it.
eighteen
They’d made it, but barely. Kat paced the contestants’ lounge while the judges debated, unable to get the image of her melting buttercream out of her mind. The decorations had turned out better than she’d hoped, though, especially the wings and pistols. It was charming in a country-girl-tough kind of way, which reflected well on her home state. Maybe the judges would feel the same.
And ignore the fact that her once-perfect cupcakes were cheesecake-less and more like glazed instead of iced because of the drizzles sliding down the still-warm sides.
“You’re about to wear a hole in the carpet. Just calm down.” Lucas’s hands brushed her arms, but she shook him off, afraid if his touch lingered too long she’d cling to him forever. “Calm down? Easy for you to say.” She forgot to lower her voice, and she was awarded with curious stares from Piper, Amanda, Tameka, Tonya, Michelle, and Chops—all of the remaining contestants.
“Besides,” she went on in a whisper, “you were more on edge than I was earlier in the kitchen, practically leaving me alone to deal with all that. I would imagine it’s my turn now.”
“If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it outside.” Before she could protest, Lucas grabbed her hand and tugged her out of the lounge, down a short hall, and to a door marked Exit.
He really meant outside. The breeze felt fabulous against her flushed skin, but still . . .
“Lucas, we’re going to get locked out.”
“No, we won’t.” He jammed his shoe between the door and the frame and braced it open, crossing his arms across his apron-clad chest. “Now, what’s going on?”
She threw her arms to her sides, feeling any edge of control she’d managed to hang onto slip away. From the distance, a car horn honked, and the sounds of nearby traffic did little to ease her anxiety. “Besides the fact that once again, something random and awful happened that might be sending me home?”
“You home?” A shadow flickered across his face, despite the sunny afternoon streaming around them. “Don’t you mean us?”
“Us. Me. Whatever.” She paced the concrete walkway, unable to stay still, unable to look directly at him for fear of what she’d do. What he’d do.
Or not do.
“We’re a team.”
“You’re right. And teams don’t bail when one member needs another the most.”
“I didn’t bail. How did I bail?” Lucas jabbed his thumb at his chest. “I was right there the entire time.”
“You didn’t hear the oven go off.”
“You didn’t either!”
“Don’t yell at me.”
“I’m not yelling!”
“It’s your coach voice. It’s close enough.” Kat shook her head. The conversation had just taken an immature spin, and if someone didn’t put it back on track . . . “I’m just saying you weren’t as there as you usually are. And you were being weird. Almost—”
“Almost what?” Lucas raised his eyebrows. “You were going to say guilty, weren’t you?”
There was that shadow again, dancing across his expression like a winged admission. “You did it on purpose?”
“Kat! Are you serious?”
She leveled her gaze at him, and the fight fled his stance. “I didn’t burn the cupcakes.” He ran his hands down the length of his face, and the weariness on his features sent a twinge of sympathy across her heart. She knew he couldn’t have done it on purpose, but if she were honest, the cupcakes weren’t even what she was mad about in the first place.
She’d needed him to stand up for that kiss, and he’d been silent. And Lucas reacting to the emergency that way in the kitchen today—as if he almost hoped they didn’t win—made his first offense all the bigger. And more personal.
Like it was about her.
Her fight left then, too, dissolved into a thousand tiny droplets that went up in a puff of steam. She let out a sigh, leaning against the rough side of the building. “If you didn’t burn the cupcakes, then why are you so upset?”
“Because I thought about burning the cupcakes.”
She pulled his hands away from his face, gripping his fingers so tightly her knuckles whitened. “You didn’t just say that.”
“I’m serious, Kat. I thought about it. And decided not to, and then it happened anyway, and I didn’t know what went wrong, and I felt bad. Like it was still my fault, somehow.” He tugged his hands away, and she let them go, reaching up to touch her cheek like she’d been slapped by his words. How could he—
“I didn’t do it, Kat.” He stared her in the eyes, as if the truth would somehow make it hurt less. “That’s all that matters. I made the right choice.”
No. No. She took a step back, away from him, clenching her hands over her heart. “What matters most, Lucas, is that you even had to make it in the first place.”
Fear branded his gaze, and she forced herself to look away. This was done. She was done. With the conversation. With the truth. With the lies.
Done.
“Just go.”
“Kat, I’m not leaving you out here alone—”
“Go!” Now she was the one yelling, and not in a coach voice but in a woman-scorned voice. “I can handle myself. Just watch me.” Anyway, the only one threatening to hurt her right now was Lucas.
He gave her a long stare, then disappeared inside with a slow shake of his head.
She forgot to catch the door behind him. Gave it a tug, and—yep. Locked.
Perfect.
She leaned against the side of the building again, crossed her arms, and closed her eyes. Just breathe. One breath at a time. Someone would let her back in. Lucas would realize soon enough if nothing else, and she’d have to go stand in line for the big announcement of who was continuing on to the next-to-last round all windblown and sweaty.
And heartbroken.
How could he do that? How could he even think of sabotaging her like Piper? And after all he said about Piper being a bad team player. Lucas was on her team, and he’d considered—actually considered—making her lose. On purpose.
Why?
The unknowns made her want to kick the brick wall.
The door banged open beside her, yet she refused to open her eyes. Let Lucas wonder if she was okay. He should have propped the door behind him when he went inside. Apparently he was worried about leaving her alone, but not all that concerned with locking her out.
“Excuse me, I didn’t realize anyone else was out here. Do you need a minute alone?”
Not Lucas. Her eyes flew open. Thad.
; Oh, great. She wiped her eyes, grateful the building tears hadn’t actually cascaded down her cheeks yet, and nodded. “Fine, just getting some air. The lounge was getting a little . . . intense.” So was the outside, but that was a different story.
Thad shoved a door prop—where had that come from?—into the frame, then lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall beside her, a respectful distance away. “I hear you. I’m here for my own version of air.” He saluted her with the cigarette. “We’re about to start taping, though. Ten-minute warning.”
Ten minutes to turn into a human again. Great. She pushed off from the wall. “I better go put myself together.”
“Don’t worry. You look great.” The compliment rolled easily off his lips before he pulled another drag on his cigarette. Kat hesitated, unsure of the conversation’s direction. Lucas’s odd behavior around Thad jumped to the forefront of her thoughts, but she shook it off. How could she trust Lucas’s judgment or advice now, knowing he’d actually struggled with the idea of getting her eliminated? Clearly his discernment was far from spot-on.
Thad was probably just trying to make her feel better. After all, he’d caught her outside alone, crying, against the side of a building. Who wouldn’t offer a compliment? She smiled. “Thanks. But I could stand some touch-ups.”
“You’re actually one of the prettier contestants I’ve seen on the show so far.” The line on anyone else would have felt awkward, and cheesy, but somehow from Thad, it just seemed matter-of-fact—not sleazy at all. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve had a rough couple of rounds. With the tray dropping, and now the cupcakes burning.”
“I had hoped you weren’t paying that much attention.” Kat felt a blush heat up her cheeks, and she fought the urge to fan her face. At this point, embarrassment was just a given. She should get used to it until she got home.
Which, after this round, might be sooner than she’d hoped.
“Oh, I’m paying attention.” His voice lowered an octave as he flicked ash from the butt of his cigarette. “Trust me.”
That line churned her stomach a little, but she brushed it off. Why would Thad be hitting on her, a nobody, apron-wearing baker from a small town in Louisiana? He was just checking on her, is all. Trying to cheer her up. He’d be saying the same thing to Piper or Tameka if they were out here.
“I hope I get a chance to prove myself and what I can do.” Kat reached for the door, but Thad came behind her and tugged it open first, nudging the doorstop out of the way. His proximity kept her from turning to look him in the eye, but hopefully he could sense her determination. “I won’t let you down.”
“I never had a doubt.” His hand bumped against hers—by accident?—as he passed her in the hallway. “See you on the set.” He winked, and disappeared down the hall.
She turned in the opposite direction to go to the ladies’ room, unsure why her heart was pounding so hard she struggled to breathe. Had he hit on her? Or was she paranoid after Lucas’s earlier comments? Or just nervous about the judging coming up?
Thad’s comments had been encouraging in that sense, though—if he didn’t doubt her letting them down, then that meant she would get the chance she needed to prove herself.
Had he just given her a heads-up as to this round’s results?
She washed her hands in the bathroom sink, then dried them with a paper towel and smoothed her hair back into a ponytail. Something about the conversation didn’t sit right, but it might just be because of the drama with Lucas.
Who hadn’t come back for her after all.
She’d done it.
All by herself.
An addicting sensation, however unfamiliar it might be. She could get used to this.
Kat opened her laptop on the hotel bed and leaned back against the nest of pillows she’d created. Her cupcakes had come through, despite the lack of cheesecake, and impressed the judges with their simplicity. Thad even commented how the ingredients shone individually and weren’t compromised by too many extra flavors. Maybe the cheesecake elimination had been for the best after all.
The bikers had been sent home for their less-than-creative decorations, so now it was an all-girl competition. Except for Lucas.
Ugh.
She shifted the pillow behind her head, and took a deep breath. Time to relax and not think about Lucas, cupcakes, or competitions.
Though two of those three seemed downright impossible.
Lucas had congratulated her after the results, though his demeanor during the cab ride back to the hotel had been stony at best. Even Thad’s encouragement after the show had been stronger than Lucas’s. What was his deal? Whatever it was, he wasn’t volunteering the information, and she sure enough wasn’t going to ask.
Not yet, anyway. Not while she was still this mad. And hurt.
No, just mad. Mad was better.
She booted up the computer, popped a lemon cookie in her mouth, and waited for her mail to load. Ten new emails, mostly spam, one announcing she was the random winner of a Nigerian bank account inheritance, and one from her mom.
Great.
Get it over with or procrastinate? She hesitated, then kept skimming the list in her in-box.
The last email was from her sister.
She almost choked on her cookie. What in the world could Stella have to write to her about? The mouse arrow hovered over the entry, and she finally double clicked. Her eyes scanned the words, an odd mixture of trepidation and anticipation building inside. Maybe she and Stella could reach a new level of friendship long-distance this week. At least they had something to talk about at the moment, which was rare for them.
The email started casually enough, and Kat reached for another cookie.
Hey, sis. Hope you’re having fun. Have you seen any celebrities yet?
Not that she’d know if she had.
Not that you’d know if you did. Queen Oblivious.
Kat frowned. Whatever.
I know there’s all those rules about not being able to tell the results before the show airs, but maybe you can give me just an idea of how it’s going? You’re not home yet, so you must not have been booted the first round. LOL!
Kat shoved another cookie in her mouth. Hilarious.
I don’t even know if you’ll read this before you get back, but I wanted you to know Aunt Mags isn’t doing so hot. She’s been in the hospital again, but don’t worry, she’s already home now, and that girl at the shop kept things running while she was gone.
Oh dear. They’d left Amy in charge? For longer than a single shift? Was the shop still standing, or had it burned to a crisp around her while Amy swayed along with her earbuds?
Just letting you know you’re needed around here.
That was nice. Sort of. Needed—or wanted? Her throat closed, and she forced herself to swallow the rest of the cookie. Didn’t matter. She was on the fast track here, had proven she had what it took so far—even without Lucas’s support—so who cared?
Well, she did. But she could pretend a little longer that she didn’t.
What would happen if Aunt Maggie didn’t improve? If her health kept getting worse, she might have to shut down the store.
The only thing worse than baking the same cupcakes over and over might be not baking any at all.
If she won the competition, though, it would be a moot point. She wouldn’t be involved with Sweetie Pies regardless of what Aunt Maggie decided. Right now, Kat was still in the running in the competition, so the opportunity for change lingered. She felt like a stuffed animal in a toy vending machine, jumping around, begging to be chosen, for the claws to reach down and pluck her up into a new life.
Preferably one where best friends didn’t betray and families believed in each other and kisses actually meant something.
She went back to Stella’s email.
Dad says hi. He’s worried about you, but won’t admit it outright. I don’t know what he thinks is going to happen to you—you’re Kat, after all. Predictable to a T. I assured
him you were fine, don’t worry.
Hmm. She wasn’t sure she entirely enjoyed being predictable. Predictable was what had kept her immersed in vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate cupcakes. Still, she was here in LA doing something about it, and that was pretty unpredictable.
Except Lucas had been the one to make it happen.
She didn’t like to remember that part.
Anyway, I better run, almost late for my highlight appointment. Gonna go a lighter blonde this time. What do you think? Well, have fun taping, and tell Lucas I said hi. I haven’t seen him much lately. Now that I think about it, we haven’t talked much in person at all since that time he asked me out! I guess I never mentioned that to you, did I?
The text on the screen suddenly blurred into squiggly lines. Kat blinked, but the image didn’t clear, the letters didn’t rearrange into an order that made sense. Lucas and Stella? No. Impossible. He’d never.
Keep an eye out for celebrities. Try hard, okay? If you ignore Gerard Butler on the streets of LA, I swear I’ll disown you.
She squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn’t happening. No. Way. She’d open her eyes, and there would be rambling about movie stars and hot actors and nothing at all about her best friend. The only man she’d ever truly loved. The only person in her life who hadn’t gone behind her back.
Until today.
Though he had gone behind her back to sign her up for the show, right?
And maybe on another day too, that she had yet to know about but might discover if she kept reading.
Did she want to know?
It didn’t feel like she really knew anything about anything at the moment.
All’s Fair In Love and Cupcakes Page 16