Page 8 of Holly Jolly Cake Fight
She snagged some white-flocked branches from the floral aisle and headed to the Christmas department, satisfied that she’d get an impressive angel out of the ten dollars in goods. She wasn’t dumb enough to make friends with Laurin, not whenhe’d eventually be her competition, certainly not when it was becoming obvious that the pairing was deliberate to create aheroes versus villainsvibe — seriously, no one was as helpful and affable as him in real life — but she wasn’t going to throw the game over her casted villainy.
Her theory was strengthened when she found Laurin at a display of wired ribbon, grabbing a box from the top shelf for a girl who couldn’t reach. The hijab the girl wore made it obvious, even from behind, that it was Zara. He was laughing with her about something, and although he nodded in acknowledgment to Candace, he waited until Zara had fussed way too long over the ribbon before putting the box back and returning to the cart.
“What were you talking to her about?” Candace asked as they moved down the next aisle.
Laurin picked up a couple of boxes of metallic tinsel. “I asked her about her job. She hosts a YouTube channel.”
Candace made a face. She may have been little more than a professional reality show contestant these days, and yeah, she’d gotten her lucky break on Instagram, but she’d leveraged that into a real career. She was absolutely not a social influencer. “A baking channel? Those are so gimmicky.”
“She called it a ‘lifestyle channel.’ She started it for other Muslim-American girls, but now it’s so popular Food2Love is looking at purchasing the rights to it. How much is all that stuff?”
She looked down at the load in her arms as she warded off any feelings of inadequacy. She’d been with the network for years, and she wasn’t getting her own show. The execs knew how dire her situation was, but here she was feeling lucky to evenhave a spot in their Christmas competition. Meanwhile, Zara was about to get a spot her first time in?
She was chummy enough with Laurin he’d probably be the first guest, too.
Candace set everything down in the cart, noting that he’d already gotten sugar, red dye, and peppermint extract for the canes. “A little under ten. What are the oranges for?” If he was thinking of using them to flavor the canes, there was going to be a problem. He’d never get hard candy out of that.
“Oh, I ran into Harper — Belle’s partner? — in grocery. Helped her find agave syrup. She said they were doing two edible decorations, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to add some candied orange slices to the tree. Plus, that’s a nice pop of color to add to . . . oh.” He frowned as he took a second look at Candace’s fabrics. “You got blue.”
“I thought she’d look nice in blue,” Candace said defensively.
“Err, right. It just won’t match candy canes.”
“How much do you think that will matter?” She pointed to the row of display trees. They were a variety of heights and the trees themselves were different colors, but the decorations were mostly hodgepodge taken from the shelves. “It won’t look any worse than those.”
“Sure, but those are—”
He was cut off by the loudspeaker announcing that Mike Richards needed to return to the pharmacy. That was their warning that they had five minutes left in the store.
No time to worry about matching colors now.
Chapter 4
Dinner that nightwas catered — and much-appreciated, as Laurin’s nerves were shot by the next twist in their tree-decorating challenge. They’d returned from Walmart to find everyone’s trees on their porches, and when Greg complained that his decorations would blow away — confirming Candace’s glitter comment — they were told they’d be locked inside all night and only given a half hour to physically decorate the tree the next day. The rest of the night and the next morning should be spent crafting their ornaments.
Candace tucked herself away in the tiny third bedroom. She didn’t tell Laurin that he had to stay out, but she made it clear enough by closing the door behind her. When the cameraman came to get footage, she closed him in with her for the filming and inevitable interview.
Laurin didn’t dwell on whatever her issue was, even though it was beginning to weigh on him for reasons beyond the competition. The supplies she’d purchased and the whirring of the sewing machine behind the door indicated that she had a strong concept as well as the competency and drive to get the job done. Why, then, was she refusing to communicate with him?
He decided that worrying about Candace was a fruitless endeavor and got to work on the oranges. Candying them was easy but time-consuming, and with this extra twist, he thought it best if he strung them up for easy hanging. When the cateringcrew showed up with dinner, he had four batches cooling, but there were a dozen more to go.
Candace emerged from the spare room looking relaxed and satisfied with herself, if not a tad frizzy. Candace was known for always being impeccable, so of course it was with no cameras on her that her pretty wool skirt had loose threads snagged into the fibers. Her pale hair was fluffed in a halo, the strays loosening from the ponytail.
He liked it. She looked good when she wasn’t flawless.
“It smells delicious in here,” she marveled while she grabbed plates from the cabinet, which he liked even more. Maybe he’d see more of this softer, friendlier side of Candace.
“Yeah, I’m hungry, too,” he agreed, holding back his smile. He popped the lid off the pan to find a simple but tasty and filling meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and Brussels sprouts. His only complaint was he didn’t think there’d be enough for them both, so he motioned for Candace to take what she wanted before taking whatever was left. There were snacks in the pantry to round out his meal.
“I meant your oranges.”
Laurin nearly pointed out that this was the nicest thing she’d ever said to him, but then he thought of the cat that used to live under his garden shed. Every time he’d tried to approach it, it hissed and ran off, but it would eat out of his hand when he sat and held the food out long enough.
If he was going to make Candace warm up to him, at least enough for them to survive the cabin together, he suspected he’d have to ply her with little treats.
“Take some more,” he said when he saw she’d gotten a portion no bigger than what he’d put on Vivvy’s Doc McStuffins lunch plate.
Her cheeks pinked up. “I’m good, thanks.”
