I smiled and nodded, ignoring the outburst of butterflies in my belly. “Yeah,” I said. “That would be great.”
He pointed at Sylvia, our makeup artist. “You want one?”
She shook her head and gathered her brushes into her makeup bag. “No thanks. I’m just about done here. Good luck today!” she said with a little wave.
They both left the room. In the silence, I realized just how nervous I was. So much was riding on this. Everything in the last few weeks had been building up to this one day.
There was a knock on the ajar door, and Jude peeked his head inside. “Hey,” he said, smiling at me.
Ash followed him into the room. “How you feeling?”
“Nervous as hell,” I admitted, wiping my sweaty palms on the sides of my jeans.
Jude nodded empathetically. “I know there’s a lot riding on this.”
“But hey,” Ash said, tapping his hand to my arm. “It must feel good to know that even if you don’t win tonight, there’s a good fallback plan.”
“Fallback? You mean… Beefcakes?” Beefcakes was doing well, but it wasn’t doing so well that we could justify buying a property like the old mill. And it also wasn’t doing so well that Neil could pay off his mother’s medical debt and the latest surgery.
“No,” Ash laughed. “The film.”
Confusion twisted my brows, and Jude seemed to notice right away that I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Ash,” he warned, his eyes not leaving mine.
But Ash completely ignored his friend, plowing through the conversation without even stopping to pause. “Luckily, he won’t be leaving right away. We head out to Budapest in a couple weeks, but we may not need him right away.”
My throat pitched into my stomach. Neil was leaving? To film another movie? I pressed my palm to my stomach, where my breakfast seemed to be curdling. Oh, God. I might throw up.
“Nothing’s set in stone yet,” Jude said, clearly trying to smooth over the bomb Ash just dropped. “No contracts have been signed.”
“You didn’t know?” Ash asked.
I didn’t need to respond, though… instead, Neil stepped forward, two cups of coffee in hand, and glared at Ash momentarily before calmly turning to me. “I was waiting to tell you,” he said. “Just until I found out if we won or not.”
Jude cleared his throat and gave Neil a squeeze on the shoulder. “We just stopped in to wish you both luck.”
“Sorry.” Ash gave us an apologetic look. “We’ll be silently rooting for you from the producers’ seats.”
Jude pressed his finger to his lips and said, “Shhh. Can’t have the other contestants knowing we have a favorite finalist, though. We’ll… uh… give you some space before we film.”
They left, closing the door behind them, and I turned expectantly to Neil. “Budapest?”
He winced and thrust his hands into his hair. “I don’t know. If we lose this episode, I’m going to need the money. Desperately. More money than Beefcakes is bringing in. And the money I would get for consulting on this movie—for less than three months of work? It would go a long way toward paying that debt down.”
I blew out a tight breath. “We don’t even know that we’ve lost the challenge yet. Do you have so little faith in me… in us… that you’re planning to lose?”
“I’m just trying to be pragmatic.”
I closed my eyes, hating the way my chest tightened with this information. All the pain from Neil leaving crashed into my heart once more. When was he planning on telling me this? After we lost? Once he was on the plane to Budapest? Or was he simply going to leave again… without explanation?
Needing to take the gig, have a backup plan if we lost, was a fair argument. What wasn’t fair? The fact that he didn’t talk with me about this. The fact that I found out from his two friends. How were we supposed to start over again, rebuild what we once had, if he couldn’t even talk to me about such a major decision? It was the exact sort of bullshit that Brad would have pulled on me… and maybe that stung most of all. “I get that,” I whispered. “I know we both have a lot riding on this. Which is why I’m so surprised you didn’t come talk to me about this potential job.”
“I thought… I thought you’d be mad.”
“So, you figured it was best not to tell me? Jesus, Neil.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “Well, let’s just… let’s get through this final challenge. If we win, then you won’t need to take the gig in Budapest, and this will all be a moot point.” I was trying to stay positive. I was trying to believe the words that were coming out of my mouth—that this wasn’t a big deal. That I could forgive and move on from this betrayal. I was willing to try for Neil. But even still, there was a strange feeling rising from the pit of my stomach that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t swallow down.
Neil’s hands were clamped to his hips, his eyes cast to the ground, unable to look at me. And his lips—those lips I loved so much—pressed together as he stood there, deep in thought. “Except… even with the money we win, my Mom needs to have this surgery. And I’m foolish to think that’s the last bit of medical debt we’ll accrue. Having one foot in with Silhouette Studios is a smart move. My brother agrees. We can hire someone to help at the bakery—”
“You’ve talked to your brother about this already?” I whispered and placed a hand over my belly where it felt like I’d just been gut punched. “But not me?”
Neil gave a defeated shrug. “It’s his business—his debt—too.”
I nodded, still hurt, but trying desperately to calm down. Regardless of how much this hurt, Neil’s actions were noble. He was doing this for his mother.
“Okay,” I said. “But maybe there’s some other way we could offset that debt? Without you having to go to another continent.” I glanced up, and his eyes wouldn’t meet mine. They were locked on his shoes, scuffing across the carpet. My throat was suddenly dry as I whispered, “Unless… you want to leave Maple Grove.” I didn’t even fully mean those words until I saw the slight wince at the corners of his eyes. “Oh my God. You do want to leave, don’t you?”
“No. I don’t want to leave you.”
I swallowed thickly. “But?”
He winced and looked up, those green eyes landing on mine. “But I miss doing stunt work,” he whispered, his voice raw with honesty. “At first, I thought this Budapest gig was just a good backup if we didn’t get the money from the win here. But… stunt work was a huge part of my life for years. I didn’t love living in LA or the grueling hours. But I did love the job. And my friends. I miss it, Lainey.”
For the first time in weeks, the use of my nickname was like a punch in the gut. My initial feelings of anger faded, replaced with a new sensation deep in my chest. An emotion I hadn’t felt in a few months. Not since Brad. And not for a decade with Neil. “Your shoulder only just healed from your torn rotator cuff… is it even safe to do stunt work again?”
“Jude said it’s mostly consulting and some very light stunt work. Not a heavy action film. I talked with my doctor and he approved the list of stunts they need me for.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and I squeezed them shut, willing them away. “Let me get this straight. You… you talked to your doctor and your brother before you talked to me?” A laugh choked at the back of my throat. “Who else did you talk to first? The mailman? My dad? Did you go to the bar and talk with Nick the bartender about this dilemma?”
“Elaina…”
He took a step forward, but I immediately countered it by stepping back. “You’re going to leave me again, aren’t you?” I hated the way my voice cracked as I spoke.
He took a step into me, and this time I didn’t dodge him as he reached an arm out toward me. “Not like last time. Not for good. I’ll come back—”
“For what? A few weeks? A month? Before you ship out again for the next movie?” I shook my head. “I didn’t even know this was going to be a component in our relationship. Goodbyes are a major t
hing for us, and… now I’m expected to say goodbye to you on a regular basis? When we never even discussed this. You didn’t even take me into account and include me in the conversation. Just like last time, I’m expected to just be fine with it.”
“That’s not true.” He shook his head. “It won’t be goodbye. I made a promise to you that I will never say goodbye again until it was on my deathbed—”
“Semantics,” I snapped. “You leaving for three months is a goodbye whether you choose to call it that or not.”
“I was going to ask you—”
“No.” I held up a hand to stop him from continuing. “You were going to tell me. Not ask me.”
Stepping out of his embrace was like tearing a piece of my heart from my body. “That’s not the life I want. I don’t want a boyfriend—a partner—a husband who isn’t home half the year.”
He blinked, surprised by that statement, which pissed me off even more. He couldn’t possibly have been surprised by my reaction, could he? “Stunt work is a piece of who I am, Lainey. I thought you understood that. It’s no different than any other work trips people have to take.”
I sneered at him, unable to contain myself. The anger I felt boiling inside made me feel like a teenager. I was fiery, hot-tempered Loca Lainey, all over again. Was I kidding myself believing we could work beyond our high school issues? Even ten years later, even as functioning adults? “Like hell it is. Most people go away for a weekend. Not a quarter of the year. And even with that… when do you think Brad found the time to have his affairs? It wasn’t here in this tiny ass town. It was when he was away at conferences.”
He shook his head. “It won’t be the entire three months away. I have weeks off, like anyone else. Scenes I’m not needed in. I’ll be back and forth—”
“I thought you loved working at the bakery. I thought that was part of your new dream.”
He swallowed, reaching out a hand to brush a strand of hair out of my face. “I’m not allowed to have two dreams?”
That softened me a little. I didn’t have the answers. I only knew that I didn’t trust him enough to watch him leave me again. And if I couldn’t trust him fully, how could I expect to build a future with him. “You are,” I whispered. “I just don’t know that I can be included in those dreams if they take you away from me for months at a time. That’s not the life I want to build with my partner. I don’t want to be in the sort of relationship that has to schedule FaceTime sex because we rarely see each other. And I’m not going to raise our children as a single mom half the year while you’re on location for a movie.”
My phone rang in my pocket, and I pulled it free. Seeing my sister’s name blinking on the screen, I silenced it and sniffed, swiping the back of my hand across my nose.
“Lainey,” Neil crossed to me and wrapped his large hands gently around my shoulders, bending to meet my gaze. “You are part of my dream, too. I don’t want to lose you.”
I blinked as a single tear slid down my cheek. Everything was crashing down around us. Like the first domino tile was pushed, and one by one, they were falling to the ground. “I’m not sure what I’m more upset about,” I said honestly. “The fact that you’re leaving… or that you hid it from me.”
He squeezed my shoulders and tugged me into his chest, curling his free hand around the back of my head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He pressed his lips to the top of my head, sighing into my hair. “I won’t leave if you don’t want me to go. I’m not going to risk what we have again.”
I pushed onto my toes, blinking through my tears and glancing up at him. “Really?”
He nodded. “Really. I love you too much. If you want me to stay… I’ll stay.”
In that moment, I should have felt happy. Elated, even. But deep down, all I felt was sorrow. Because I knew… he didn’t want to stay. He only didn’t want to lose me.
There was a knock on the door, and the assistant director poked his head into our dressing room. “Hey you two,” he said. “It’s showtime.”
I inhaled a shaky breath and did my best to smile at Neil. We had no choice but to shake off this heavy blow to our relationship and focus on what we originally set out to do. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go win a million dollars.”
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been as nervous, even in all my years of competition and stunt work, as I was in the moments leading up to the reality show finals. My mouth was dry, my heart was racing, and I was sweating so much that I was probably at risk for serious dehydration. And what made it worse? This stupid engagement ring burning a hole in my pocket. I was so excited this morning at the prospect of proposing to the woman I loved. Maybe, after I did, she would finally see … that there was no one else in the world for me. No one else I wanted to be with.
I swallowed the hard, knotted lump in my throat.
Elaina and I stood behind our baking counter, the entirety of which was covered with a white sheet, hiding any clues that may have given us some idea about what kind of challenge was ahead of us. “Just remember,” I whispered to Elaina, “Stressed spelled backwards is Desserts.”
She blinked and glanced at me. “How does that help right now?”
“I dunno,” I said honestly. “But I’m sort of panicking.”
She slipped her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. It was a small gesture, but after the fight we’d had? It felt so damn good to have her touching me. Have her there by my side. We were in this together. Forever.
Savannah stepped forward as Elliott whispered, “Action,” and smiled at the camera.
“Welcome back to the final episode of Bake It or Break It. We are here with David and Sabrina, a creative couple with artistic differences from Austin, Texas. Jackson and Aspen from Brooklyn, NY who are dealing with Romeo and Juliette-esque family drama. And Neil and Elaina from Maple Grove, NH who despite a strong start hit quite a speed bump in the trust department last week.”
I snorted, swallowing the urge to roll my eyes… but then I felt Elaina’s hand lightly brush my arm. “Easy,” she whispered.
I glanced down at her wide, blue eyes and a surge of warmth slammed into me.
With a deep breath, I brought my eyes forward once more, concentrating on Savannah. We needed to win this. Now more than ever, if I wasn’t accepting the job in Budapest. That same sad sense of loss landed heavily in my stomach. The same sorrow I felt the day the doctor diagnosed my torn rotator cuff. The same sense of loss I felt when I moved away from my friends. But I wasn’t sure why. Was it because of our fight? All couples fight—that in itself shouldn’t make me so uneasy. It was the fact that Elaina still didn’t trust me. Would she ever? And could we have a successful relationship if she was never able to move past that mistrust?
Focus, Neil. Now was not the time to worry and second-guess each other.
“A few weeks ago, we interviewed each of you about your favorite flavors. And your least favorite flavors. For today’s challenge, we want to take you into the future—maybe it’s five years into the future… maybe it’s five months. But for today, we want you to imagine that your wedding day is tomorrow and that you have to bake your own wedding cake… with each of your least favorite flavors as the key ingredients. The cake must be delicious—not only to our judges, but to both of you, as well.”
Huh. That seemed… well, it was challenging, but not the hardest challenge. We could easily both lie when we taste the cake and say we love it.
“The trick is,” she added, “when you taste the cake, you’ll each be hooked up to a lie detector.”
Well, crap. That made it a bit harder.
“You have two and a half hours to bake and decorate your wedding cakes. The clock starts now!”
I licked my lips, glancing briefly at Elaina. She gave me a nod as together we reached for the sheet and slid it aside to reveal our main ingredients: fennel and sauerkraut.
I almost wretched just from the damn smell of fennel. It had a licorice scent, but at leas
t licorice had sugar in it. Fennel was Satan’s freaking vegetable that he served his minions in Hell.
And I had to admit, even though I didn’t mind sauerkraut on a hotdog, the idea of it in my wedding cake had my stomach turning.
Elaina’s face twisted as she lifted sauerkraut. “Oh, God. We’re screwed. How the hell are we supposed to make a cake out of this?”
I glanced around the room, wincing as I saw the Texas couple holding up smoked salmon. “Oof. It could be worse. We could have to incorporate fish into our damn cake.”
Think, Neil. Think. “Okay, if we’re going to make this work, we need to find flavors that mix but also that we love. That way hopefully if we pair what we hate with something we love, we can rewire our brains to enjoy the cake. Make sense?”
Elaina nodded, but looked skeptical. “What the hell goes well with sauerkraut?”
I blew out a breath and noticed that none of the other bakers had started either. I closed my eyes. Sauerkraut… and fennel. Both European, though fennel is more Mediterranean and sauerkraut is obviously German. My eyes snapped open. “I’ve got it,” I whispered. “German chocolate sauerkraut cake with candied fennel on top.”
I handed Elaina the sauerkraut, beaming. “Rinse and drain this with cheesecloth. Really squeeze hard so all the juice is gone and it’s like a pulp.”
She scrunched her nose and whined, “Can’t I do the fennel?” With a smile, I brushed the back of my knuckle down the side of her face. She nuzzled into my hand for a moment before she said, “Neil, we’re on a time crunch here.”
Shit. “Right. Yes, if you want to do the fennel, you can. Grab a saucepan and over medium heat, dissolve stevia in ¾ cup of water. Then add the fennel, lemon, and salt—”
Elaina made a groaning noise and grabbed the sauerkraut out of my hands. “That sounds complicated. I’ll do the sauerkraut.”
I snickered and grabbed the ingredients. “Trust me. I don’t want to be cooking the damn fennel any more than you want to handle the sauerkraut.”
She paused, turning back to look at me. “Stevia?”
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