Page 58 of Sugar and Spice
I nod.
“My assistant will call in the morning. She’ll get you anything you nee?—”
“Mason, you know very well I can’t accept all that.”
“Don’t be difficult.” He gives me a wicked grin. “Just think of it as an advance on your pay.”
“I can’t take a fictional job as your personal pastry chef either.”
“You can.” He leans down, meeting my eyes. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”
He looks so earnest, I finally give in. “I’llthinkabout it—but you have to admit it’s ridiculous.”
Vehemently disagreeing, he says, “It’s the best idea I’ve ever had.”
“The judgesand the viewers were impressed with your cookie wreaths, but there were two that proved to be exceptional,” Mason says to us.
I stand under the bright lights, holding my breath. If we win yesterday’s challenge, it would make baking and decorating those blasted wreaths worth doing twice.
“Chrissy and Christy, the judges and viewers found your wreath’s design to be whimsical, and Alexandra said the taste was divine.” Mason turns to Sadie and me, and I straighten. “Harper and Sadie, the judges said your butter cookies were perfectly executed, and your simple, yet tasteful design was worthy of the cover of a holiday magazine.”
We’re in the top two. Please let us win this one.
“But Chrissy and Christy, yours rated just a bit higher with the judges, and you are the winners of the cookie wreath competition.” If you didn’t know Mason, you wouldn’t be able to tell his smile is forced. “Congratulations.”
I let out a frustrated breath as the two squeal like teenagers. Sadie nudges me, reminding me to clap with the rest. The two harpies didn’t use one single orange on their entire wreath.
“Unfortunately, we have to send two teams home today. Jerome and Cole, Scott and Misty, and Max and Eugene, you’re in the bottom three. Jerome and Cole, the judges said your design was sloppy, but your sugar cookies tasted great. Scott and Misty, the judges said you spent too much time on a design that didn’t work, and your cookie base was dry. Eugene and Max, the judges said your cookie was nice, but it didn’t stand out.”
We hold our breath, waiting to hear the judges’ and viewers’ decision.
“I’m sorry, Scott, Misty, Eugene, and Max, you’re going home.”
Cole closes his eyes and tips back his head, relieved. Jerome clasps Scott’s shoulder, showing his condolences. We shake hands with Eugene and hug Max.
I liked both teams, and I think we’re all sad to see them go. Everyone except Chrissy and Christy that is. They’re still busy reveling in their win.
“We’re down to five teams.”
I glance at our competition. Sarah and Quinn, Cole and Jerome, Jessica and Anne, Sadie and I, and Chrissy and Christy are all that’s left of the original twelve teams.
“Yesterday’s competition was all about design, but today’s is about taste. You are going to take a traditional holiday cookie—a cookie that isn’t usually a favorite—and turn it into something delicious. You have ninety minutes to make three variations of Russian teacakes.”
Sadie stiffens beside me and whispers, “What’s a Russian teacake?”
“It’s a round nut cookie rolled in powdered sugar.”
She nods, and I can tell her mind is already working.
“And…go!” Mason says, setting the timer on a network-provided tablet.
We scramble to our workstations like we need all the time we can get, but I’m confident. Brandon’s mom makes thebestRussian teacakes every year for Christmas, and she’s been letting me help since I was ten. I know them like I know the recipe for my basic chocolate cupcakes.
“Any ideas?” Sadie asks when she returns from the ingredient cabinet with an armload of nuts.
I grin, confident we’re going to win this thing. “Lots.”
An hour and ten minutes later, we have six dozen perfectly powdered, tender-as-can-be, little round, ball-shaped cookiesstacked on three platters. Now we’re adding garnishes to make them pretty.
