Page 95 of The Alpha and the Baker
But to me, it was a thing. A thing that left me feeling even more conflicted than before. Depending on how this bake-off went, I had a lot to think about.
As much as I would have loved to put it out of my mind, I found those thoughts popping up every so often as I continued to help with the prep. There was a surprising amount to do considering that every step that could possibly have been completed beforehand had been done, but that seemed to be how baking worked.
I helped pull things out of the three mini-ovens in our kitchenette and set them on a cooling rack for either my mother, Aunt Letitia, or Felicia to check. I watched them use a thermometer, toothpick, or butter knife to judge whether the stuff was cooked through. It fascinated the hell out of me. I wished there was more time to ask and learn, but this was a competition.
My responsibilities went beyond the kitchen, of course. Chris and I corralled pack members and directed them to the bleachers, but a lot of them wanted to explore the market. I came here fairly often because I was one of the designated shoppers, but it was novel to a lot of my pack.
Huh.
Sometimes, it was easy to forget that beyond school and work, many of my extended community had almost no in-person interactions with humans. And while humans could be a terrifying threat, they also had an incredible knack for pack-bonding withanything.No wonder both packs had had practically adopted Felicia.
Granted, I would be entirely willing to chalk that up to how amazing she was, but I wasbiased. Extremely biased.
“Attention all, our annual community bake-off will be starting in just ten minutes! Come join a good cause and see members of our city compete with delicious fare. Extras from each round will be made available to all who buy a five-dollar taster’s ticket immediately after judging, and those proceeds will be donated to this year’s chosen charity, the Trevor Project!Taster’s tickets and programs are available at the customer service booth. Remember, it’s first come, first serve!
“So it begins,” Chris said gravely beside me before cracking a grin.
I took a deep breath. I was much more tense about the entire situation. Soon, I would find out exactly how much trouble I was in, and it would all be borne on the back of a cupcake.
Technically there’s no cupcake round,I reminded myself, but it did little to cheer my mood.
There was a lot of hubbub and flurry of activity as everyone completed their final prep—pulling whatever was needed out of ovens, setting them to cool, and putting things that had cooled a little too much back in the oven. Felicia was putting the finishing touches on the first round.
She’d gone extra fancy with German chocolate cake sandwich cookies, complete with a special royal icing design on top. I’d worried that between the cookies cooling and the icing, she wouldn’t get it all done in time for the first round, but she seemed utterly at peace as she laid down the last lines.
She’d had all her icing bags pre-prepped with the appropriate nozzles attached, but it still seemed a wonder to me that she got it all done. Maybe she was magical in her own way. After all, thousands of Wild Folk had disappeared over the centuries, either from breeding out with other species, being hunted to extinction, or simply losing their connection to whatever it was that made us Wild Folk exist in the first place.
Yet another thing to explore, assuming I was still the alpha of my pack once everything was all said and done.
“Attention! Attention! Everyone take your seats, and we’ll introduce our amazing competing teams today. Please, give a round of applause to the people who have donated their time, skills, and baking supplies to this great event. Given the cost ofeggs lately, it’s quite the investment in our community, so let’s show our appreciation!”
I looked past the man with the megaphone to see the crowd. I wasn’t surprised when I saw nearly a third was my pack, a third was the Ramirez pack, and a third seemed to be general humans. Honestly, it was almost a natural makeup, or at least it would have been if fairies hadn’t made it such a big no-no for us to attend human events in any numbers outside of education or work.
“First up, we have the lovely nuns from Sisters of Mercy Abbot! They have won the bake-off three years in a row, and they contribute their success to always leaving a spot on their team for Jesus. Will this be the year someone unseats them?”
There was applause all around as a group of little old ladies tottered out from their kitchenette, dressed as one might expect nuns to dress on a warm, spring day. Was it a little weird to be competing against holy women? Maybe, but Felicia didn’t even so much as blink at their introduction. Man, I wish I had her cool under pressure. Maybe if I got a bit more comfortable in the kitchen, I would.
“Next up, are the Royal Pitches, the a cappella team from our local community college.”
One by one he went through the list. There were more of us than I expected, with nine teams total. I couldn’t even fathom how much flour the event had required.
And last, of course, were my pack and the Ramirez. A truly raucous cheer sounded from our respective crowds, and judging by the surprised look on everyone’s faces, they weren’t used to such a lively crowd.
Well, they were certainly in for a new experience then, because when we shifters cheered, wecheered.Loud, proud, and supportive.
Some people would call it obnoxious, but they were probably just lonely.
At least that was what I told myself, and that’s what I stuck with as everything began.
“All right, ladies, gentlemen, gentlethems, and assorted goblins, let’s kick things off with a favorite of the kiddos here, the cookie round!”
It was only after the corners of my vision started to go a little sparkly that I realized I was holding my breath. Shit, I needed to hold it together for my pack, so I reminded myself to inhale and have faith in the people I loved. Whatever happened would happen, but I would be able to take solace in the fact that I knew everyone within my circle had tried their best.
That worked a treat, and when Felicia walked from our kitchenette with her tray of cookies, I felt more centered. I blew her a kiss, which she obviously couldn’t catch with her hands full, but she beamed at me. Whenever she smiled at me like that, it was easier to believe that we’d win it all.
One by one, the judges passed through, tasting each team’s cookies and giving feedback. It was a strange sort of torture, and the tension on our end could have been cut with a knife. Occasionally, the other seven teams glanced over to us nervously, and I tried to give them a kind smile. Given the mixed reactions to that, I guessed my face wasn’t always as placid as I aimed for.
Oh well. They had no idea what the stakes were, and I was perfectly fine with it staying that way.
