Page 35 of Sugar and Spice
It’s Wednesday,our mid-week free day. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. Starting at seven o’clock last night, not long after the show aired, my phone started going crazy. A few minutes ago, I got my first text of the day. I assume they’ll just keep pouring in now.
Clasping the sheets, I roll toward the clock on the nightstand. Eight in the morning.
The train wreck of an interview went live last night with the episode. I have no idea how much they tampered with it because I refused to watch.
It must be bad though, judging from the texts.
My mother has tried to call me three times, but she’s the last person I want to talk to about it. I hadn’t planned to tell her I transferred home for Brandon. Ever.
Sadie and I barely exchanged two words after yesterday’s judging round. It’s just too uncomfortable.
I’m not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that the judges seemed to like our cookies. With everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours, I’m not sure I want to stay.
A soft knock sounds at the door. I swivel my head, debating whether I’m going to ignore it. When it sounds again, I toss thecovers aside with a sigh and walk across the cold, wooden floor. I look out the peephole and bite my bottom lip.
I almost tiptoe back to bed and pretend to be asleep. I contemplate it for a full ten seconds, and then I give in and open the door.
Brandon’s on the other side, arms crossed, with a cryptic expression on his face. His eyes rove over me, and he frowns as he sets his hands on my shoulders. “You look awful.”
“Good to see you too.”
“Can I come in?”
“No,” I say, but I step to the side, making room.
He gives me a wry smile, and I close the door behind him.
“What are you doing here?” I wrap my arms around myself, feeling exhausted and vulnerable.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and turns about the room as if taking it in. “I don’t know.”
“We talked about this?—”
“I’m here as a friend, Harper.” He turns to face me, his blue eyes piercing in their directness. “You know very well, no matter what, I would be here for you after yesterday’s disaster.” He steps toward me, keeping his hands safely tucked away. “You know I would have gotten in the car and drove all the way from Montana last night if I hadn’t been here already.”
Once I trust myself to talk, I ask him, “Have you seen it? Did you watch?”
He studies me for several seconds, and then he nods.
“How bad?”
Brandon raises his eyebrows, shrugging. “The interview was…it was a little intense. But all people can talk about is the moment you had with Mason in the kitchen. Once again, you’re all over YouTube.”
He says it flippantly, but there’s a twinge of hurt in his voice.
“Moment?”
Rolling his shoulders, he averts his eyes to the black television. “After Christy, Chrissy—whatever her name is—bumped into you and Mason kept you from falling. The camera caught it all, even zoomed in on your faces. Everyone’s making a big deal out of it.”
“Brandon—”
He holds up a hand. “Don’t…it’s fine. I’ve made such a mess of everything, I have no room to talk.”
I’m about to answer when there’s another knock at the door—this one insistent.
“Harper!” Paula hollers. “Tammy wants you in her office in thirty minutes.”
I crack the door open, careful to keep Brandon out of view. “It’s our day off.”
