Page 79 of The Alpha and the Baker
“I don’t make a fuss about you reporting me to the fairies, and you get all our recipes we use for the bake-off.”
Sal said nothing for a long moment, but he did seem to be actually debating. “All your recipes for the bake-offandyour ale-brewing process. Heard a lot of good shit about that.”
“Our brewing process?” That was so far beyond my knowledge, but whatever. I stuck my hand out, eager for the compromise. “Deal.”
Of course, Sal made me wait for several very long seconds before he clasped my hand.
“You’ve got yourself a deal. The bake-off it is.”
And just like that, the challenge was on.
“Well, if you don’t mind, I s’pose I better go start getting ready.”
“You can take all the time you want,” another scoffed, “but you ain’t holding a candle toAbuelaAyala’s flan.”
“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” I answered back with all the confidence I had before ducking into my car. The Ramirez members wandered off, and I peeled out of there as fast as I could.
It looked like it was time to ask Felicia to save my ass once again.
Felicia
In for a Penny, in for a Peso
So,somehow, I’d gotten involved in an inter-pack bake-off. It was just about the last thing I’d expected when Cas had come back from the market looking quite harried, but it seemed entirely apropos.
I didn’t know exactly what had brought about the sudden challenge, and I got the distinct feeling that Cas wasn’t telling me everything, but I wasn’t bothered. It was unorthodox, but I was excited for the chance to get to bake for the McCallisters again.
Besides, I’d cut my teeth by participating in small, local competitions. That habit had fallen away as I furthered my career, but what if I could use my skills to enjoy a little nostalgiaandhelp my boyfriend and his amazing family? It was a win-win situation.
“So wait, what are the rounds again?” I asked, wiping my hands on my apron once I’d put the croissants in the oven. I was way ahead of schedule, partly because it was Saturday, and partly because I wasn’t alone in the kitchen.
No, I was the opposite of alone.
Both Cas and Chris were there, and they’d happily been carrying around and moving all the heaviest stuff for me, whichhelped me breeze through my morning checklist. In fact, they put me so far ahead that I could go slower on actually making the stuff, which was convenient considering I was explaining it all to Saoirse, who was following me around like a hawk.
Her acuity for a lot of the fundamentals of baking impressed me, and I enjoyed showing her the ropes more than I’d thought I would. She had an excellent base of knowledge and far more patience than I’d had at her age.
“I brought the paperwork along,” Cas said, setting down the case of cream cheese I’d asked him to get from the fridge. They were little personal-sized tubs that I sold for fifty cents apiece to the regular and a dollar for the couple of specialty flavors like strawberry and garlic chive. The profit margin on them was nothing to laugh at. “Let me grab it real fast.”
“Already got it,” Chris said, returning from the front with a hefty packet in his hands. I was still getting used to the enhanced senses the shifters had, so it was a bit uncanny that he’d heard Cas over the cacophony of mixers, oven fans, and the like. I figured I’d acclimate as I spent more time with them, but it still threw me for a loop.
“Thanks,” I said, taking it and looking it over.
Although time was of the essence, Cas had given me a few days to think about helping his pack with the bake-off. I was going to agree right away, just on principle, but I appreciated the extra time to be practical about it. In the end, I figured I could chip in with a little over a week to prepare.
“Let me see...” I murmured as I quickly flipped through the rules to look for a description of the rounds.
Round One:
Cookies. A dozen identical in size and shape.
Round Two:
Pies. One 18-inch pan. Intact bottom crust, filling, and decorative garnish on top.
Round Three:
Cobbler. Minimum 8 x 8 baking pan. Fruit filling of choice.
