Page 66 of Baking and Angels

But it was a chef with a white coat with black piping who answered. “They went from three rounds to one.”

“It’s an endurance round now,” a gray-coated cook with an orange handkerchief instead of a toque interjected. “The one to get the highest number of plates served in the allotted time wins.”

“One dish and you have to make as many of them as you can,” the white-coated chef complained.

“They have a whole event going on next door, and we need to feed them all, for free. I’m working forfree,” the gray-coated cook complained, gesturing as he spoke with his thick accent.

“Technically for the prize money,” the firstone said.

“Oh, okay, thank you. They want me to work my ass off, after I’ve been working all day in my real job, for the chance of winning some chunk of change. It ain’t even enough to make a damn bit of difference. You know what? I’m following that guy. I’m out.” And gray-coated cook stormed off.

“I mean, he has a point. I do this to relax and have fun,” the white-coatedcook said.

“You were complaining just last week that the challenges were getting rote,” Eleanor pointed out, switching her crossed arms to planting her fists onher hips.

“Yeah, but…” white-coat waffled just as Helenawalked up.

“What’s going on?” she asked, tugging at Rafferty’s sleeve.

“They’re changing the format,” he whispered back. “One round, cook one dish and clear the most plates to win.”

“Oh?” Helena wrinkled her nose. “That’s interesting.”

“Well, most people are rebelling against change,” Rafferty noted.

“Are you coming, Eleanor?” the white-coated chef asked, eyeing Rafferty with the wariness one gave anoutsider.

“No. I’m in. I paid my fee, and I’m going to take their challenge,” she said, turning to march back to her station.

“That’s so Eleanor,” the white-coated chef said, shaking his head. “We went to school together. She would be chef of her own kitchen by now if she wasn’t so… whatever she is.” He glanced at them. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that she ever does anything wrong. It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s just… she never quite does anything right, either, despite her talent.”

As white-coat walked off, Rafferty could feel Helena’s aura bristle, like it had become porcupine-like and the energy of it was sticking him on the side facing her. Leaning in despite the prickles, he whispered in her ear. “Becareful.”

Immediately, the prickles retreated. Helena closed her eyes as she breathed in deeply, tucking her demonic thorns away. “Sorry, sorry. That sort of thing… it just pisses me off,” she said vehemently at the chef’s back.

She glared daggers at the white-coated chef’s back. The man flinched and came to a stop. As he started to turn, Rafferty turned Helena away as well, their widening eyes a mirror of each other’s.

“What did I do?” she asked in a squeaky whisper.

“No idea, but keep walking,” Rafferty coaxed, nudging her arm to reinforce it.

Thankfully, they encountered Scarlet, who was talking with another man in a suit. As they approached, she paused and gesturedfor them.

“Ritchie, let me introduce you to my protégé Helena. And this is her boyfriend, Rafferty Lares. This is an old friend, RichardTirrell.”

The well-dressed older man cocked his head to one side as he looked Rafferty up and down. “This is the one who did your spread at the Winter Rose Ball?”

Scarlet stiffened at the mention of the cursed event but didn’t let her smile crack. “Yes, he was, as a matterof fact.”

“Excellent. Best meal I’ve had in ages,” the man named Ritchie declared, offering his hand to Raffertyto shake.

Rafferty shook, but the hairs on the back of his arms rose when he did so, and a familiar revulsion rose in the back of his throat.A nobleman who thought very highly of himself but has nothing of real character. Only his entitlement,Rafferty thought. He disliked this sort immensely. They were always asking for substitutions and special off-menu items, even if it was the king’s menu.

“Too bad it got overshadowed by all that demon business. I don’t give a damn one way or another. Don’t give a damn if it’s not politically correct. All these cowards running away from my Scarlet and her cute little business, it’s ridiculous. Who hasn’t had a light brushing with the demonic before, really? We’ve been friends for too many years, Scarlet. Weak in the spinethey are.”

An awkward silence washed over them, but Mr. Tirrell just plowed right through it. “I’m looking forward to whatever it is you plan to cook today,” he continued, turning to survey the room. “Maybe we should just forgo this whole thing, and I hire you on the spot as my own personal chef. What do you say to that?” He turned back and grinned with the satisfaction of a man who believed he had made an offer that couldn’t be refused.

Rafferty offered his own sharp grin, not knocked off-center in the slightest. “I must apologize to you, sir. I just took a position in Ms. Scarlet’s household. I’m not the sort to drop a position once I’ve said I’dtake it.”

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