Page 39 of The Devil She Knows
“Judges.” Daphne beamed. “It’s time to award your final scores.”
Yes, thank you, final scores. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner Sam could congratulate Hannah on a game well played and invite her over to talk about pâte à choux. Grandma Baker always liked to say that the way to someone’s—well, she’d saida man’s, but Sam figured it applied to everyone—heart was through their stomach, and food had yet to fail Sam as far as wooing Hannah went. Hopefully it would work just as well this time around.
The judges took a moment to deliberate.
Eighty-nine.
Ninety-three.
Ninety-nine.
“Chef Cooper, your cumulative score for the dessert round is 281, bringing your total score for the competition to 843, making you the winner ofDaphne’s Inferno!”
“Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor started to play from speakers unseen as confetti rained down from the sky, little strips of shiny red and pink paper that stuck to Cerberus’s fur. In the stands, the gluttons continued to writhe, now covered in not only mud and slush but the confetti, too.
Sam was going to need so much therapy.
“Your prize, Chef Cooper.” Daphne held out a trophy, a cheap-looking statuette of Cerberus, more yellow than itwas gold. “Wouldn’t want to walk away without your winnings.”
No, Sam definitely wouldn’t want that.
Ignoring the trophy in Daphne’s hand, Sam made a beeline over to Hannah, who was staring at her feet, her body slanted away from the judges.
“Hi,” Sam said, raising her voice over the music so that Hannah would hear her. “Good show today. You were a very formidable opponent.”
Hannah ground the toe of her shoe against the floor. “Sure,” she said flatly. “Formidable.”
Sam frowned. “I mean it. The composition of your plating blew mine out of the water.”
And that wasn’t flattery. Sam really meant it.
Hannah pursed her lips, still not looking at Sam.
A pang of sympathy echoed in her chest. Hannah was taking the loss a lot harder than she had expected. “Look, I’m no marshmallow expert, but I’ve heard pâte de guimauve can bereallytricky to get right, so you shouldn’t feel—”
Hannah scoffed. “I don’t need your pity or your condescension. Save it, okay?”
Sam’s mouth opened and shut uselessly. “Pity?No, I didn’t mean to—”
“You know, I didn’t even want to compete in this stupid competition, but my agent told me it would be a good way to elevate my brand and get people to stop thinking of me only as the Pepsi-from-scratch girl. He told me that if I went on this show, I’d be tapping into a brand-new demographic and I’d be sure to get a bunch of sponsors and maybe even myown cooking show like Selena Gomez.” Hannah sniffled and blotted under her eyes with her fingertips. “Now I’ll be lucky if I don’tlosefollowers.”
Little did she know, no one, at least no one …topside, was going to see this show. “You’ve got hundreds of thousands of followers, right? That’s a lot.”
Hannah stared at her flatly.
“You mentioned wanting to know my secret to making pâte à choux earlier,” Sam said, trying to rally. “We could go back to my place if you want, and we could make my chou praliné comme un Paris-Brest together and—hey! You could even film the whole thing and post it on TikTok.”
Hannah’s eyes narrowed and her jaw hardened. “You’re joking, right?”
Sam shook her head, lost. “No, I—”
“I ammortifiedright now. Do you really think I’m interested ingoing back to your place?”
Hannah made air quotes around the last part.
Sam just couldn’t seem to say anything right. “I didn’t mean it like that. I swear. I really just thought we could make some pâte à choux and … and maybe get to know each other?”
Get to know her so that Hannah would fall in love with her.
