Page 98 of The Alpha and the Baker
Not to mention the sheer wealth of information and technology we had access to. Pretty much ever since I was old enough to read, if I had a question, I could just look it up online. That certainly hadn’t been the case when Aunt Letitia had been growing up, meaning she had fewer opportunities.
So, yeah, it was a big deal that an official bakery was paying her for ten pies a month, and I wanted to recognize it for the huge accomplishment that it was.
“I can believe it,” I said softly, then pulled her against my side. “You’ve always been incredibly talented, and goodness knows our pack has greatly benefited from the many delicious things you’ve made over the years. I personally think that you should keep everything you earn. The pack fund already has plenty. This deal? It’s all yours.”
I heard Aunt Letitia’s heartbeat pick up and her scent bloomed happy all around her. “Keep all of it? I couldn’t!”
“Well, I won’t tell you what to do with your money, but I will tell you that it isyourmoney, so you should only do what you want with it.”
“You know,” she murmured, her voice soft enough that only I could hear it. “Your father would be so proud of you. You’re every bit the alpha he hoped you would be.”
“I…”
The way she said it was so genuine and so heartfelt that I was struck speechless. The kind words snuck right past my defenses to land on my heart, stabbing deep in a wonderfully intense way. Auntie Letitia was about as old school as they came, and if she said something like that, she meant it.
“You think so?” I said eventually, when the crushing wave of happiness finished rushing through me. I liked to think I didn’t need other people’s approval, but it meant the world to me that someone who had always been a fixture in my life saw me doing my best.
“I know so. He worked so hard to undo Barris’s corruption that he didn’t get time to grow and nurture the pack in the way he wanted to. But you? You do that every day, don’t ya?”
I had to be careful. If she kept going, I was going to cry. And while I didn’t think there was anything wrong with the mancrying, I didn’t really want that tender moment to be in front of so many humans and members of a rival pack.
“Thank you, Auntie.”
“Of course, dearie. Now let’s win round three!”
“Here, here!”
“Attention, our judges have finished their deliberation for round two and will now announce the winner!” There was the megaphone again, but I was happy to get on with the event.
“For our second round, the winning pie belongs to team nine, the Ramirezes!”
Well, shit.
Unsurprisingly, a third of their crowd was on their feet and cheering, while the shifters next to us all high-fived. It was just one round, and only the second round at that, but it meant we were tied.
That was less than ideal.
“It’s all right,” my mom whispered, leaning into Felicia. “We’ll clobber them in the rest.”
Felicia cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean we’llcobblerthem in the rest?”
“Boo,” I said, ruffling her hair. “That was terrible.”
“On the contrary, I would argue that I’m a comedic genius and that pun was gold.”
I opened my mouth to tease her, but my mother pinched my arm. “Don’t argue with our head baker! She knows what she’s talking about.”
By the time the cobbler round started, I’d pulled myself together. It was much harder to get a read on the judges. Almost every team’s dish looked similar, with only the color of the filling slightly peeking through the top being different. I didn’t know what was special enough about cobbler for them to warrant their own category, but since this was one of Felicia’s dishes, I was sure we would win.
And sure enough: “And the winner of our cobbler round is team eight, the McCallisters!”
Hah! Iknewit! Of course Felicia would win! She truly was unstoppable.
I felt a little bad for the other teams, who had so far been completely locked out of the competition with three of the eight rounds going to shifters, but I didn’t feel bad enough not to enjoy the sour looks on our rivals’ faces. As long as it was in my head, I saw no issue with being a bit petty.
Next stop, the savory round.
“Wish me luck,” my mother whispered to me as the judges began to walk down the competitors’ tables.
