“That’s right, chefs.” Jessica pauses for effect. “It’s a pairs challenge.”
My stomach drops. A pairs challenge. During an elimination. This is a complete game changer from everything we’ve done so far. The best chef in the show could end up with a bad pairing and the next thing they know, it’s time to hang up their jacket and ride into the sunset.
“When I call you up,” Jessica continues, “step forward and select a tile.” She looks up and down the line. “Dani.”
Dani steps up and pulls out an orange tile.
“Please stand in front of the orange kitchen.”
Next is Malik, who pulls out a red tile.
Jessica calls Hakulani up, and he pulls out a yellow tile.
Lola is next and pulls out an orange tile.
“Peyton,” Jessica says. “You’re up next.”
I walk toward her, smiling as I do. When I glance over at Hakulani, he holds up his crossed fingers. Reaching my hand in, I feel the smooth surface of the two remaining tiles. I start to pick up one but at the last second change my mind. Closing my eyes, I pull out the tile and then peek. It’s yellow.
I swear Hakulani is clapping louder than the rest. When I reach our shared kitchen space, I meet Hakulani’s high five and I catch Paulie rolling his eyes, but at least he isn’t shooting daggers with his eyes anymore. We watch Paulie go through the formality of picking his tile and he and Malik do a secret handshake I’ve never seen before.
Once we’re settled, Jessica begins to explain the challenge. “In the last Landmark Challenge, you had to build high. In this elimination round, you’re going to be tested like a real-life chef, and your creation will need to be not only high, but also stunning and tasty enough to serve as a dinner party centerpiece. Like the last challenge, you must move your structure from the prep station to the presentation stands, but be careful: if your structure topples or doesn’t make it to judging, you will automatically be eliminated.”
You can practically hear all of us start to sweat and panic a little. These structures aren’t only going to be tall, but they’re going to be probably much heavier than our last creations. Plus, taste wasn’t as big of a component in the Landmark, but now we also have to contend with the palates of Angelica, Billy, and A. J. I glance at Hakulani’s arm, and I swear he’s flexing his muscles ever so slightly—either that or that’s raw tension coursing through his arms.
A PA rolls out a cart with three baskets on it. “But the luck of the draw isn’t over. In each of these three baskets is a mystery ingredient. This ingredient must be used in every creation you make.” Jessica pauses while we exchange nervous glances. “In the pantry we have a variety of food-safe support equipment you can use.”
Another pause. “Are you ready to see what’s in the baskets?”
We cheer, and Hakulani nudges my shoulder. “We got this,” he says.
I want to ask Jessica what my advantage is for winning the Landmark Challenge, but I figure she hasn’t said anything because it’s not time to use it. Still, I was hoping I would get a hint or something.
“All right, chefs. Your time begins…”
I really hate the long pauses.
“Now.”
Hakulani races to the cart in front of Jessica, grabs the basket in the middle, and hurries back.
“What do we have?” I ask as Hakulani begins to unpack.
Blood oranges, limes, and lemons.
“Citrus,” I say, giving the counter an excited pat.
Hakulani reads the card on the inside. “Yep.”
“So we need something made with citrus that can be stacked and will be light enough to transfer without breaking our backs.”
“Are we baking?” he asks.
“Are you letting me make that call?”
“Why not?” He shrugs. “No one can touch you when it comes to baking.”
“I have an idea, but I need to check something.” I wave Jessica over and she pivots to come over, the camera crew following behind.
“What’s up, Peyton?” she asks.
“Any chance someone in the building has aged eggs laying around?” I whisper.
“I can check, if you want,” she says. “Are you making what I think you’re making?”
“Maybe,” I say slyly.
When she is out of earshot, Hakulani whispers, “Care to clue me in?”
“Macarons,” I say. “They’re light and quick to make. Since the cookie is pretty basic, all we have to do is color the mix and we have the bulk of the work done. Then the fillings can be one of a hundred citrus combinations.”
He nods approvingly. “But we need aged eggs?”
“If at all possible. Now we need to find a way to make a stand that’s at least ten tiers tall.”
“Ten?” he says, looking a little panicky. “Why are we making ten different macarons?”
“Presentation, baby.”
I race to the refrigerator and search through each shelf. “Nothing,” I mutter to myself before race walking over to Jessica, shaking my head.
Without a word, she nods and walks over to a PA, who gets on the phone with I don’t know who.
Jessica looks over at us and tries to look confident, but I can tell she isn’t sure she’ll be able to find what I need. How did they have conch on day one, but they don’t have aged egg whites now?
The PA hands Jessica the phone and she begins to make our plea to other shows.
“How’s this?” Hakulani says, holding up a set of stackable, clear trays. “Ten tiers exactly.”
“It’s perfect,” I say, glancing back at Jessica who has her back to me. It looks like she’s still on the phone. “But from the looks of it we better think of a backup plan in case the eggs fall through.”
“Maybe we could do tartlets? Same flavor combinations, but we don’t need day-old eggs.”
I smile. “It’s a good idea.” And it is a good idea. But I feel like, compared with my vision of stacks of macarons, it doesn’t feel like enough to really wow the judges. “What if we also think about adding—”
“Well, I have good news and bad news,” Jessica interrupts.
“Good news first,” Hakulani says quickly.
“We found three dozen egg whites—” she begins and then pauses.
“Just tell us,” I say. “Please, I beg you.”
“—that are two days old.”
“Is that the bad news?” Hakulani asks, looking back and forth between me and Jessica like we are sharing some sort of baker’s secret.
I break into a smile. “You are an evil woman,” I tell her. “A lifesaver, but evil.”
Hakulani still looks confused.
“There’s no bad news. I just wanted to mess with you guys.” Jessica throws her head back and laughs. “The eggs will be here in ten.”
Hakulani looks at me as Jessica walks away. “Okay, we have the eggs. Now what?”
A smile spreads over my face. “Now, we win this challenge,” I say as I turn to the oven and set it to preheat at 320 degrees.
It takes a little while for him to get the hang of piping out the dough onto the silicone mats, but eventually Hakulani is churning out the cookies like a pro, and I turn my attention back to the cream filling.
“What do you think?” I ask him, showing him the flavors I’ve chosen and written on a scrap of paper. “Do I need to add anything?”
“Blood orange,” he says quickly. “That’s strawberry and orange combined—it’s so good.”
I have my doubts, but add it to the list.
I continue to pipe out the cookies and put Hakulani on baking duty.
“You have to get them out as soon as the timer goes off,” I tell him.
“What are you going to do?”
“Start the icing. You can help when the cookies are done.”
In addition to blood orange, we also have lemon, orange cream, lemon-lime, and at least five other combinations that I hope will be enough to really wow the judges. I check the
time and give Hakulani a heads-up that we need to wrap up this last batch so we can get to filling and assembling.
Sweat drips down my face as we begin to assemble and place all ten different flavors of macarons on the display. Hakulani is partial to the blood orange one, but I can’t decide between the lemon raspberry and lime coconut. As I stack more and more of the macrons onto the display, I begin to worry about how hard it is going to be moving it from the prep area to the presentation stand. Hakulani asks me a question about where the other tray of blood orange macrons are, which pulls me away from my thoughts and helps me focus on the task at hand. I climb onto the counter and begin filling the top tier of the stand with the blueberry lime flavor as the seconds tick down.
“Hurry,” Hakulani says, his eyes on the clock and not me.
“Less watching the clock, and more stacking,” I mutter at him.
Then, just as I place the final cookie in its spot, the buzzer sounds, and the challenge is over.
“Can you help me down?” I ask, and a moment later his hands are around my waist, bringing me gently to the ground, and I can’t help it—there’s a warmth that spreads across my cheeks. “Thanks.”
“It looks amazing.”
It really does. “Do you know why I wanted to do these?” I ask as we move to stand in front of our stations.
“Because they are ridiculously light and fluffy?” he says with a grin.
“Well, yeah, but there’s more. I made these for a wedding one time. It was a fairy-tale wedding complete with a horse and pumpkin-shaped carriage.”
“Was it orange?”
“You’re focusing on the wrong detail,” I tell him. “But no, the carriage was white. Anyway, the couple was going to France for their honeymoon so the whole thing had a French theme. I just remember the first time I tasted this cookie, I thought that if people in France could make something this amazing with two-day-old eggs, then maybe there was hope for me.”
Hakulani is quiet as the crew sets up for the judging portion.
“What?” I ask, self-conscious, but he doesn’t answer right away.
We watch as the camera crew gets shots of the judges for a moment, before Hakulani says softly, “Why do you think the only thing that awaits you is nothing?”
“Well, when I win this show, that will change.”
“Yeah, but why do you think that’s all you deserve?”
I look at him, aware that at least one of the cameras is recording us. “What do you mean?”
“It’s like, yeah, this competition could change anyone’s life, but you seem to think it’s the only thing that can save you from a miserable future.” He pauses. “I don’t know you that well, and what I know of you is influenced by the show, but you’re a really good chef and an amazing baker. You could do anything you wanted.”
“You don’t understand,” I say with a sigh. “People like me don’t get out of our lives without a miracle.”
“So be your own miracle.”
His words linger between us.
Then Jessica is calling us back together and the disembodied voice tells us to find our marks.
“Now, Peyton,” she begins, “as the double winner of the Landmark Challenge, you have earned a huge advantage. For this round, you may have not one but two crew members help you and Hakulani move your tower from the prep to the stand in front of the judges. And you can take away a crew member from another team, if you choose.”
“Oh yeah,” Hakulani says, but I just grin as big as my mouth will allow. Our structure is by far the tallest, but it’s also the lightest, as far as I can tell.
“Do you want to use it?” Jessica asks.
I glance over at Dani and Lola. Both of them look nervous, and they should be. Dani has been horrible to me since we arrived, so she shouldn’t be surprised that this is coming. I turn back to Jessica.
“We are absolutely going to use the extra set of hands,” I say with a laugh, and Hakulani and I high-five.
“I thought so,” Jessica says. “What about the second advantage?”
I look up at Hakulani. “What do you think?”
“It’s your call.” He shrugs. “But just make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.”
I look back at Dani, and I know what I need to do.
“I’m not going to use the second advantage,” I tell Jessica, who looks surprised, along with everyone else.
“You’re not?” Lola asks.
“If I’m going to win, I want to make sure it’s a fair fight. So, no, I’m not going to use it.”
“All right,” Jessica says. “Then it’s time to present your towers.”
Hakulani and I are the last to present our display, so while Paulie and Malik are being judged, I have time to think about what Hakulani said.
He’s right about how much emphasis I’m putting on the scholarship and winning the competition. I hear Caitlin’s voice telling me that even if I got kicked off, I would have fans and other chefs eager to potentially take me under their wing, but I don’t know how much stock I can put into anything Caitlin says after seeing what she tried to do with all of us. That said, I can’t stop wondering if there’s another way for me to become a pastry chef that doesn’t start with winning. Then my daydream is interrupted by a deafening crash, and I look over to see Dani and Lola looking down at the floor as their chocolate fondue fountain spreads across the floor. It’s like stumbling upon a gruesome crime scene, and over at the judges’ table, all three judges are standing, horrified.
“It slipped,” Lola says quietly. “I couldn’t adjust my grip and it slipped.” She looks at Dani, who is still in shock. “I’m so sorry.”
Dani shakes her head, but I can tell that she is trying not to cry, because she keeps blinking and looking anywhere but at the chocolate spreading across the floor. “It wasn’t your fault,” she says, defeated. “I felt it sliding and I tried to compensate. I think I overdid it.”
“Cut,” the disembodied voice calls. “Let’s get this cleaned up.”
In an instant, I’m next to Lola and Dani, pulling them into a group hug. Paulie is right beside me saying something comforting to Dani. They may not like each other very much, but this isn’t how you want anyone to go out of the competition.
“It’s going to be okay,” I tell Lola.
She laughs, but there’s no humor in the sound. “It’s really not.”
We stay like that for a moment more until the PAs tell us to move, and then we all sit and watch as the professionals come in and clean up the mess. They try to salvage what they can, but in the end, there’s nothing they can save of the once towering flow of chocolate.
To no one’s surprise, Dani and Lola are eliminated, and even though Hakulani and I win, it’s a bittersweet victory.
As we say our goodbyes, I whisper to Lola, “I am sorry.”
She winks at me and smiles, but there are tears in her eyes. “You haven’t seen the last of me. This was just the beginning.”
I pull her in for a hug and swallow back my tears because I know the cameras are still watching. I knew what this competition meant to her. I knew why she wanted to win—to prove herself just like the rest of us. And now it’s over, and she seems almost relieved. As we step away from each other, Hakulani’s words come back to me again. Why do I think that the only thing I deserve is nothing?
The ride back to the apartment is silent. Malik and Paulie sit in the rows ahead of us, and Hakulani sits with his arm around my shoulder as he quietly hums one of his favorite songs from back home. If I’m going to believe I deserve more, I can’t keep playing this role, especially when I know it’s hurting other people.
I lean in close to Hakulani and cover my mic as I whisper in his ear, “We’re in the final four.”
“I know,” he says.
“You know what that means, right?”
He nods. “It’s time for Operation Just Friends. So we’re breaking up?”
“Soon,” I say with a sigh. “But it�
��s been fun.”
He nods, but doesn’t say anything.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
WE HADN’T EXPECTED A DOUBLE ELIMINATION when we left the apartment earlier today, but when we get back, everything from the master bedroom has been cleared away.
“Anyone want to switch rooms?” Malik says as we stare into the room.
“Pass,” I say, stepping back into the hall. No one says anything, so I just mumble, “I’m going to make the tea.”
“See you on the roof,” Hakulani says. “I need to take a shower.”
Paulie follows me into the kitchen. “That was cool what you did,” he says. “I was actually surprised.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, grabbing the pitcher out of the cabinet and filling a pot to boil water in.
“Not using your advantage on Dani.”
“Well, as you can see, I didn’t need to use it.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “But you didn’t know they were going to drop their display.”
“True, but my issue was with Dani. Lola didn’t need to pay the price for what someone else did.”
“I know. Which is why I thought it was cool.”
I watch the pot, the bubbles beginning to form on the bottom but none breaking free to the surface. “Thanks.”
“So,” he begins, “this thing with you and Hakulani.”
“What about it?” I ask.
He looks at his hands. “I just didn’t realize you were into each other.”
“We’re having fun,” I say.
He nods. “Okay.”
Then Malik walks into the kitchen to get the glasses and saves me from having to say anything else.
“From six to four,” he says. “That double elimination was rough.”
“No kidding,” Paulie says. He picks up the pitcher and heads to the freezer for ice.
Malik looks between Paulie and me and shakes his head. “I’m heading to the roof.”
Paulie puts the pitcher half-full of ice down next to me. “Need anything else?”
“Nope, you should head upstairs with Malik. I’ll bring it up.”
“Okay,” he says, turning away.
Alone in the kitchen, I take a deep breath. It’s hard to believe we’ve only been here for a week and a half. The studio has kept us so busy that I’m looking forward to a restful weekend. Of course, we still have to get through the next challenge, but that can wait.
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