Page 20 of Half Baked

“No, I’m fine.”

“So, then why the visit? Missing me?”

“I miss you like people miss a sunburn.”

“Charming,” I deadpan. “But can I remind you once again thatyoucame to seekmeout.”

I lean back against the counter, facing her, and wait. She looks genuinely ill, like what she has to say might kill her.

“You know I was given an audition for a baking show.” She pauses, waiting until I nod. “That’s who I was with when you manhandled me out of my own bakery the other day.”

“Saved you,” I correct. But as she drops her gaze and starts picking at her lip, a knot forms in my gut. “Did that fuck up your audition?”

“It depends on who you ask,” she grumbles. “Just like everyone else, you have them fooled.”

“Everyone loves a hot fireman.” I grin.

She throws her head back and takes a moment to study the coffered ceiling. After a heavy sigh, she looks my way once again. “What they loved was our interaction, apparently it will make for good ratings.”

“Wait…”

I push off the white marble counter behind me and lean forward on the island instead. Resting on my forearms, I bendcloser and closer towards her until she’s forced to look up at me. I think I know what she’s getting at, but I need to be sure.

“Poppy, tell me why you’re here.”

She huffs, throwing her hands up in the air. “The stupid people from the stupid show have the stupid idea that you and I would make for good ratings. Together. They said they’ll offer me the spot only if you join me, which is dumb because you have nothing to do with anything and we hate each other and?—”

“Take a breath,” I tell her, reaching forward and clasping a hand on her arm. When she does, it sounds more like a huff than a breath. But it calms her down, nonetheless. “So, you’re asking me to do the show with you?”

“No.”

“Just wanted to catch me up on how much people like me, then?”

“Fine, yes. I am asking if you’ll go on the show with me.” She groans.

I watch with amusement as she digs her palms into her eyes, as if having to utter those words was truly painful.

“What do we have to do?”

“There would be six episodes, a mini-series. We would have to bake together six separate times on camera. That’s it. You’d come learn how to make the recipe I pick before shooting day. Then we would just walk through it again for the show.”

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Just like that?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

“Apparently.”

I can’t say no to this infuriating woman, which only makes her more infuriating. She could have asked me to do anything, and I would have agreed. It’s been that way for longer than I’d care to admit.

“What do you want for this?”

I rub the back of my neck and frown. “What do I want?”

“What do you want for agreeing to do this? You know, what I would owe you in return.”

“You really think that little of me, don’t you?” I hold up a hand. “Actually, don’t answer that. Just know that I don’t want anything from you.”

“I have to pay you back for this.”

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