Page 16 of Holly Jolly Cake Fight
Patty’s careful expression held too long, though. When she finally smiled, it was forced. “I think that would be lovely,” she said.
Candace gasped, but no one heard it.
Had that just happened? Had Patty just sabotaged Laurin? Impossible. Worse yet, there were no witnesses. Patty had just set Laurin up for certain failure, and Candace was the only one who knew.
Did Patty have a history of this but was so subtle no one had ever caught on before?
No, she wasn’t being at all subtle now, not when Candace was standing in clear view of Patty. Plus, Patty was fidgeting slightly. Candace had never seen anything but steady from the woman. Whatever her motivation was for encouraging Laurin to go down the wrong path, she wasn’t comfortable with it.
“Do you make lemon bars often?” Patty asked. A bit of her resilience crumbled, and her brows turned out in hope. “A secret ingredient, perhaps?”
Laurin leaned close as though to share that secret, but he had a large presence, and Candace had no issue hearing, “Honestly, I’m not all that great at cookies. My customers aren’t looking for that when they visit an authentic French patisserie. I’m just going with what I know I won’t mess up.”
Patty started to respond but stopped herself and reset. The second time she opened her mouth, she said, “I just love lemon bars. Oh, that’s my cue!”
She all but bolted off to the pantry, leaving Candace confused and Laurin unaware.
It was none of Candace’s business. It wasn’t her job to tutor the newbies, and maybe Laurin would back off his whole social butterfly thing if he was eliminated. Sure, she’d almost wrecked them last round, but she didn’t owe him anything now. Really, she’d be the greatest benefactor of his early demise.
She absolutely did not owe him anything.
This was a dog-eat-dog world, and anyone who didn’t think baking competitions turned cutthroat, especially with so much money on the line, was a fool.
Laurin was a fool.
Candace winced at the clench in her own stupid heart at that thought. He wasn’t a fool; he was genuine. Not that it mattered, because it was going to be his downfall.
Laurin turned to talk to Jannie. There wouldn’t be any filming until everyone was back and working on their mixes, so Jannie always made it a point to get to know the new bakers then. Candace watched Laurin’s profile as he talked, laughed, and gestured through a reenactment of some moment in hissports career. Jannie got really into it, too, and thanked him profusely for explaining whatever it was to her.
The man was handsome, absolutely. He was charming, too, and he was unique against the line-up of regulars. Viewers were going to gobble him up by the spoonful, and they were going to tell their friends. A rating spike meant more money for the show’s budget and better prizes for the contestants.
Jannie continued down the line, and Laurin watched her go until Candace caught his attention. He smiled and nodded instinctively before spinning back to his own station.
Candace flushed at the casual acknowledgment before grabbing her notebook to write something she knew she was going to kick herself over later. Maybe she didn’t want him around, and Patty obviously didn’t, either, but what was good for the show was good for Candace.
Now she just needed to figure out how to keep herself from getting distracted by Laurin’s stupidly well-sculpted jeans.
The note was on a neatly torn slip of paper that had been folded once. Large enough to catch Laurin’s attention, compact enough to lay flat on the counter and go unseen by the cameras. None of the other contestants tried to get Laurin’s attention, so he took it as a secret missive.
He couldn’t say for certain if the writer, whose small, tight block lettering didn’t hint at gender, was trying to help or hinder him. He supposed it didn’t matter; the advice on it was no worse than Laurin’s plan. The instructions were brief but concise, alittle risky for the time element, but that comforted Laurin. He worked well under pressure. It was crazy to attempt three bakes in two hours, but the judges had been known to grade more leniently on bakers who made good changes in the middle of the challenge.
Go with your plan until interview, the note said, which made sense when Kate and Jannie each paired with a judge to meet the contestants. Laurin wasn’t the first one interviewed, but the anonymous writer had planned for that withMix shortbread. Add flavor later.He also started lemon curd for good measure. It would look strange if he only had one item mixing now. When Kate and Modern Baking senior editor Dorothy Kennedy came by, the stand mixer was muddling through the shortbread dough and Laurin was whisking the bubbly curd, following the lineAct confident. Make it their idea to change. Since he’d felt okay with his selections until the anonymous note had arrived, that wasn’t so hard.
The look Dorothy and Kate exchanged when Laurin told them about his recipes confirmed the gravity of his situation. He had hoped to play it safe on this challenge and go big on the ones that played to his strengths, but he was going to take this leap of faith instead.
“I hear you’re already a bit of a celebrity,” Dorothy teased, further worrying Laurin. This didn’t sound like she was going to offer him suggestions. This sounded like she was writing him off and using his past to show that he already had laurels to rest on.
But laurels didn’t feed his family.
“No, ma’am,” he drawled, slathering on the southern lean of his accent. He didn’t consider it false; he’d spent just as much time in Marietta as he had in Manchester and Marseilles. “These days I’m just a workhorse in my family bakery.”
“Oh, and would your wife agree with that?”
Laurin chuckled. “Ma’am, I am a lifelong bachelor.”
There was genuine shock in Dorothy’s face, and Laurin wasn’t surprised by this. Most women looked at his fingers to establish his relationship status. But in bakeries, metal rings with stones were a safety risk. Some contestants had silicone bands or gloved up — or ignored the risk since they weren’t subject to the same food safety regulations here, where their goods weren’t being sold — but many forewent jewelry on their hands. There was no evidence to indicate he wasn’t married.
The shock was quickly replaced with a coy smile. “Certainly, a man like you at least has a girlfriend back home.”
