“You know, Katie, you seem to have an anger problem,” I said. The lack of sleep was stripping away what little subtlety I had.
“A what?” she said, jumping up, like she wanted to take it outside.
“Do you even remember that we’ve met before?” I said, getting more and more irritated.
“No,” Katie said, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t know you. Thank God. I hardly think I would have hung around with your type.”
“What do you mean my ‘type’?” I said.
“I mean, there’s me, and then there’s you. The two don’t mix.”
“Well they’re mixing now,” I said. “We’ll see who’s who when this is all over.”
“Whatever,” she said. “Bitch.”
“You’re just mad because I wouldn’t let you dance on the bar at Hearst Castle,” I said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, reddening.
Chaz put his hand on my knee. I took a deep, calming breath. Katie looked wildly around at everyone. Suddenly, she seemed to deflate. “I need some licorice,” she said, and stormed off to the kitchen, where she kept a huge stash of candy.
Shari raised her eyebrows. “Can you say ‘blood sugar issues’?” she said.
“Why don’t you just leave her alone,” said Nadine directly to me.
“You want me to leave her alone, Queen Nadine?” I said. Ever since she’d passed me the note about sleeping with Hugh Pritzker, I wasn’t sure what to make of her. Was she trying to befriend me, or get me in trouble? Now that she was roomies with Katie, who obviously hated me, I could tell I was no longer on her good side, if I ever was.
The front door opened and one of the producers walked in. “It’s decision time,” he said. “Let’s go, everyone.”
We all stood up and a new wave of nerves swept over me. Shari came up and squeezed my hand. “It’s between you and me,” she whispered. “I’ll be happy if it’s either one of us!”
“Me, too,” I said. “I’m glad you’re here.” I felt supported with Shari around. She was confident and less nervous than the others, and that calmed me. But I also knew we were both in it to win.
“Some of you did very well on this challenge. And some of you did not,” said Sybil, as she came into the meeting room, where we all sat, nervous and on edge, waiting for the verdict. She walked brusquely to the table. “You all remember Hugh Pritzker.” She motioned to the door as he came bursting in, followed by Alice and Ruby. “And of course, you remember my sister and colleague Alice Hunter and Domestic Goddess Magazine’s executive food editor, Ruby Prasad.”
Ruby and Alice nodded.
“We’ve been very busy this afternoon in the Sybil Hunter Test Kitchen,” Sybil said. “We’ve tested every single one of your recipes. In many cases, I have to say, the results varied from what I saw and tasted when you created your own recipes. But there were a few standouts … and one winner.”
My heart beat faster. It had to be me. It just had to be me. I shot Chaz a look. He smiled nervously.
Sybil continued, “Your recipes were judged not just on results, but on ease of preparation, simplicity of ingredients, and on how well the final product could be photographed for the Recipes 2 Go splash page on the ePhone. We also took into account input from the guests at our reception. A few of you did not measure up.”
“First of all, I didn’t like Team Three’s salad,” said Ruby. “There was nothing to it. It wasn’t really a recipe at all. It was raw vegetables in a bowl,” she said. “And the dressing was just terrible.”
“The dressing was indeed terrible,” Sybil agreed. “Inedible. Whose idea was that dressing?”
“Katie made that dressing,” said farmer Sadie. “I had nothing to do with it. And I have to say that while I understand a salad may not exactly be a recipe, the point was to feature and celebrate the most vibrant organic produce that New York has to offer—”
Sybil interrupted her. “Nobody is going to look to an ePhone to choose the best tomato,” she said, dismissively.
“Team Two’s cookies were vile,” said Alice. “They tasted like cardboard.”
“One of your bellboys could come up with something better than those cookies,” Sybil said to Christophe, the concierge, who looked humiliated. “And Mikki, as an event planner, didn’t you taste the cookies before you served them?”
“Yes,” Mikki said, quietly. “I thought they were”—she glanced at Christophe—“I thought they were OK.”
“They most certainly were not OK,” said Sybil.
“I had to spit mine out,” said Ruby.
“In the test kitchen, the recipe didn’t even work,” said Alice. “The cookies fell apart.”
“And I’m afraid I wasn’t a big fan of Team Five,” Sybil said, finally.
“What?” I couldn’t help saying out loud. “How can you say that? Everyone loved my mojitos! You loved them!”
Sybil looked annoyed that I was arguing with her.
“The drink itself was acceptable,” she said. “But I wasn’t a fan of the presentation, and I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect the average ePhone user to squeeze all those lemons by hand.”
“You would squeeze all those lemons by hand,” I countered. “You know you would.”
“Yes, but this particular challenge was not about what I would do; it was about creating an appropriate ePhone app. The taste was fine, but the implementation of the idea was lacking, and you can’t make up for an impractical idea with a beehive hairdo and a silly apron.” Ouch.
Alice gave me a sympathetic look, but I was burning up inside. I couldn’t believe it. We were going to lose because Sybil wanted to get rid of me, and she was using any excuse she could. I gave Chaz a “this is totally unfair!” look. He shrugged, helplessly.
“Now for the good news,” Sybil said. “Team Six’s meat loaf was quite good and easy to make.” Linda jabbed Andy with her elbow and gave him a “told-ya-so” look. “However, it came out in the test kitchen much differently than what was served at the reception, so I’m not sure where the disconnect was. Even so, we think it would be quite a popular recipe on the ePhone.”
“The three-layer coconut cake was another standout from Team One,” said Ruby. “It was quite attractive, moist, and had an excellent texture. I suspect one of you is a closet baker,” she said to Monica, who looked sober for once, and a nodding Nadine. I couldn’t imagine Nadine had ever baked anything. She probably had servants for that.
“Finally,” Sybil said, “Team Four’s flower cupcakes were absolutely charming, and I particularly liked the way you worked as a team, using Jodi Sue’s recipe and Shari’s knowledge of flowers. Just lovely.”
Shari beamed, and I smiled at her, but it felt false. I was crushed. I couldn’t believe we weren’t going to win, and I was even more astounded that we were considered one of the three worst teams, when our recipe was obviously the most popular.
“And now, to announce the winner. Hugh?” said Sybil.
“Of course,” he said, rubbing his hands together as if he was about to engage in a hostile takeover. “The winner of this challenge is … Team Four, for their photogenic cupcakes. Congratulations.”
Shari leapt to her feet with glee, then quickly sat back down. “Thank you, thank you so much,” she said.
“Thank you so much,” echoed Jodi Sue, her cheeks flushing and her chest heaving with embarrassed pleasure. Celebrity chef my ass. I knew a groupie when I saw one. But apparently she did know how to bake.
“Teams One, Four, and Six, you may leave the room,” said Sybil. The top three teams all stood up.
“I won! I won!” Shari chanted.
“I think you mean we won!” Jodi Sue said.
“Yes, yes, that’s what I meant, of course!” she said, and hugged Jodi Sue, to make up for it. Then she ran around the table to give me a hug, too. “Can you believe it? My recipe”—she paused and looked over at Jodi Sue—“our recipe,” she corrected herself, “is going to be featured on
an ePhone app!”
I smiled. “You deserve it,” I said. And she did, even if I didn’t like it. I tried to be gracious.
“Thanks, honey,” she said. “That’s so true.” Then she whispered in my ear, “There’s no way they’re going to fire you. You’re great. And your cocktail was gorgeous. It’s you and me.” She kissed my cheek, then skipped out the door.
The rest of us sat tensely waiting for the verdict. Sybil looked at us for a long moment in stony silence. Then she spoke. “Teams Two, Three, and Five, your recipes were very disappointing.” She turned to Mikki and Christophe. “Team Two. Your cookies were stale tasting, even though they were freshly baked. Some of us couldn’t even swallow them.” Ruby nodded. “Your recipe was not up to the Recipes 2 Go standards, nor up to my standards.”
Mikki lowered her head.
“Team Three,” she continued. “Your salad left much to be desired. People don’t look to an ePhone app for how to make a tossed salad. The dressing was too tart and salty, and frankly, offensive. This recipe was a total failure.” Sadie looked like she might cry. Katie rolled her eyes and sighed with irritation. “Katie, do you have something to say?” Sybil asked.
The cameras swung around.
“Actually, I do,” Katie said, flipping her long blonde hair back to reveal little silver fish earrings. “This woman,” she said, pointing to Sadie, “is a freaking hillbilly who thinks people like vegetables.” Sadie’s mouth dropped open and she stared at Katie, her face turning red. “And that dressing is served at one of the most high-end restaurants in Manhattan, and anyone who thinks it isn’t good is just … just…”
“Let me stop you right there,” said Sybil, calmly, her mouth sliding into a smile. She reminded me of a hungry snake who’s just eyed a rat. “First of all, if you used a recipe from a Manhattan restaurant, you are clearly in violation of the rules. And second, if you did use such a recipe, you obviously didn’t follow it precisely, because that dressing was truly horrific, and no respectable Manhattan restaurant would ever serve it.” Katie scowled and didn’t say anything else.
Then she turned to us. Oh my God, it was our turn. Would it be me? Would I go home first? I couldn’t imagine a worse fate. I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering. “Faith, Chaz, your pink lemonade mojito was tasty enough, but we weren’t fans of your silly costumes. Also, the typical Recipes 2 Go user is a busy woman in her midthirties to midfifties, and we don’t believe people in this age group would take the time to prepare a cocktail like this. Mixologists, they are not. Remember, the recipes were judged for simplicity and ease of preparation. This might sell well in a bar, but we don’t think it’s right for an ePhone app.”
“But you’re in that age group, and you liked it, didn’t you?” I couldn’t help bursting out.
Sybil looked uncomfortable. “As I said, it was tasty enough,” she said.
“No, you loved it, I could tell. This is a damn good cocktail.”
Chaz kicked me under the table.
“Furthermore,” Sybil said, ignoring my outburst, “your team obviously suffered from a problem we didn’t see on the other teams. Faith, we believe that you took over the challenge and the spotlight, and Chaz did very little. This challenge was not about one contestant being the star and the other being the assistant. It was about teamwork, and I don’t believe you worked together as a team. From what I’ve seen, I’m not sure you’re capable of being a team player.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She was saying we didn’t have teamwork, after Katie just called her teammate a crazy hick?
“It’s not true, we were a team!” I protested.
“Chaz,” Sybil said, continuing to ignore me. “I hold you largely responsible. When you are on a team, you need to work as a team. Even a Domestic Goddess—or God, as the case may be—has to work with family and colleagues to get the job done. You need to stand up for yourself and not let somebody else bully you and take over.”
I gave Chaz a helpless look. He shook his head just slightly, telling me silently, I hoped, that I wasn’t a bully. “To work at Sybil Hunter Enterprises, and to have your own television show, it is extremely important to be a team player, even when you are the star, and it is just as important to assert yourself in the presence of stronger personalities,” she said, giving me a sidelong glance. “Chaz …” she paused for a long, torturous minute. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’re just not necessary here at Sybil Hunter Enterprises.”
Chaz blanched. I felt like someone had just punched me in the stomach. How could she call him “not necessary”? Was this how she was punishing me for knowing Ian? Making my friend the victim? Sybil reached out to shake Chaz’s hand, then she said, “Good-bye, Chaz, and good luck.”
Chaz stood up, a strange look of disappointment mixed with relief on his face. “Thank you, Sybil, Alice, Ruby,” he said, shaking their hands. “It was an honor.”
Suddenly, a cameraman was in my face again. And there was Mike. “What’s your reaction, Faith?” he said.
I just stared at the camera. “I … I … I …” I shook my head. “All I can say is …” My mouth was wide open, but nothing came out. For once, I was speechless.
chapter twenty-four
There are eleven of you left, and today, I have a special treat for you,” said Sybil.
Really, Sybil? It was seven a.m. and we all stood, bleary eyed, in the Sybil Hunter Craft Studio, practically vibrating from stress and lack of sleep, and the only “special treat” I could imagine wanting from Sybil Hunter right now was the use of one of her glue guns, to seal my eyelids shut. This whole experience was turning into some warped sleep-deprivation experiment. We all stayed up all night, sick with worry, bickering and talking about one another, and I was grumpy and irritable and I wanted to blame everybody around me for how rotten I felt. From the looks of everyone else, they all felt the same. So Sybil has a treat for us? Ha. I didn’t even want to know.
Alice looked fresh faced and well rested. Ian looked hung over, and from what I remembered about him, that was no surprise. His red nose practically glowed.
The crew had filled the studio space with baskets labeled with every craft item under the sun—scissors, pipe cleaners, Popsicle sticks, artificial flowers grouped by color, lace, yarn, buttons, sequins, doilies, glitter, bells, glass balls, jars of markers, paintbrushes, and drawing pencils—and a line of sewing machines against the back wall. It was like a Michael’s craft store had exploded and then been even more fastidiously put back together. Not a sequin on the floor, not a single scrap of paper or speck of dust.
I stood between Shari the yenta and Mikki the wallflower. Shari whispered to me, “I used to do crafts with my daughter. Whatever this is, I’m going to be good at it.”
Mikki looked nervous and pale. “Are we going to have to sew?” she whispered. “Or paint?” She looked like she might faint.
“As you know, the holiday season approaches,” Sybil said. We all knew it was July, but we’d already been instructed that magazines had a big lead time and the show itself wouldn’t begin airing until October, so in our warped reality, it was almost holiday time. “And nothing welcomes guests to the holiday table like a gracious and beautiful table setting.”
I looked at Mikki eagerly. As a fellow event planner, surely she, too, was used to designing an impressive table. She looked at me, relieved, some of the color coming back into her gaunt face. I thought about Chaz. He would have loved this challenge.
“You will be divided into two teams. Each of you will be assigned a table to design for a holiday dinner for twelve. The table may be decorated in any way your team decides, as long as it is a festive and appropriate table for the holidays. You will also plan an entire twelve-course menu, although you will not actually be preparing it. Instead, you will have it printed on a menu card for display. You will also each have an entire room to decorate. Your table should be the showpiece, and the rest of the room should support its design in a unique and beau
tiful way. Your holiday dining room designs will be judged on attractiveness, creativity, and elegance. You will also choose a team theme for this challenge.
“You may use anything in this room,” she continued. “You may also choose from my collection of antique china and silver. You have a two-thousand-dollar budget to spend on supplies from Affair to Remember, a beautiful party supply shop on Madison Avenue, run by a dear friend of our family. Each team will receive one of these.” Sybil held up a heavy binder. “This is the Rulebook. It details what you can and can’t do for this challenge. Shari, since you were the winner of the last challenge, you get to choose the two team leaders. Whom do you choose?”
Everyone stared at Shari. We all knew that to be the team leader was to be the most vulnerable, especially in a challenge where there were only two teams. If a team crashed and burned, the team leader was likely at fault. Thank God Shari and I were such good friends. I knew she wouldn’t put me in such a vulnerable position.
Shari looked pleased. “Well. Let’s see,” she said. “Being team leader is an important responsibility.” She surveyed all of us. “I choose Andy,” she said, with a sweet smile, “and Christophe.”
It was a good strategy—Andy was a wild card, who could easily go in the wrong direction and create a complete disaster. Then again, he could create something brilliant, so it was a gamble. Christophe seemed like he would be easy to manipulate, so I could only assume she was hoping to be on his team. She gave me a knowing look.
Andy leapt out of his seat and started rubbing his hands together. “OK, if I’m going to be a team leader, then I’m going to lead, damn it.”
“The two men. Interesting choices,” said Sybil. “Andy and Christophe, come up here. Andy, your last challenge was more successful than Christophe’s, so you get to choose your first team member.”
“Awesome. I’m going to have the team that rocks this challenge,” Andy said. He always looked like he was being run by a motor. He seemed at first to focus on the most obvious cleavage. “I choose Jodi Sue.” Jodi Sue stood up and went to stand beside Andy, keeping her distance. She made a pouty face at Shari.
Skinnydipping Page 23