She swept the back of her hand across her forehead, pushing her bangs from her face, then put down her piping bag.
Sara rushed in, shouting, “Time’s up. Step away from the dishes.”
“I’m ready,” Kelly said. Lacing her fingers, she gave them a good stretch. It was crazy how this competition changed everything. If anyone had asked her just one week ago what her three best recipes were, she’d have rattled them off without hesitation. But now with all this on the line and knowing hundreds of thousands of viewers nationwide would be watching, she found herself constantly second guessing what the judges might like best.
She took a knife from the drawer and sliced a sliver of a wedge from one of the pretty cakes she’d just plated. The combination of the red frosting between the dark chocolate layers was flawless, and the white frosting on top was the perfect consistency, still holding its peaks. She inhaled the scent. Sweet and spicy. So far, so good. She took a bite, hoping for the best—the flavors mingled in a delicious union. She closed her eyes and smiled. Nailed it.
“Try it, Judge Sara,” Kelly said, barely being able to hold her enthusiasm.
Sara pushed her fork into the cake and took a bite. “Oh. My. Goodness. This is amazing. I hope you wrote down this recipe.”
“I’m going to. It is good, isn’t it?”
“Too good.” Sara took another bite. “Oh, yeah. Those cinnamon candies are perfect in the dark chocolate. Just enough spice.”
Kelly relaxed. “It’s anybody’s guess what’ll be thrown our way. It could be something as classy as an award ceremony dessert or a two-year-old’s Halloween party.”
“I think it’s safe to say since it’s the Valentine’s Day show that it won’t be Halloween, but it could be a kid’s Valentine’s challenge. We hadn’t really brainstormed about that. Like the funny cards we all used to exchange in elementary school.”
“True. Or it could be a timed event for something in an hour. You know hard that is.”
“I saw one episode where they had liquid nitrogen cool things in a hurry.”
“You’re right. I remember that. I hope that’s available.” It wasn’t going to do her any good to worry over things she had no control over. “I’m just going to have to trust they will.”
“It’s going to be fine,” Sara reassured her. “Even ninety minutes is hard when it comes to cooling the cake long enough to do good work with the frosting and decoration. I bet they have all kinds of behind-the-scenes stuff going on. They’d have to, working under all those stage lights and everything.”
“True. I’ve got to be ready for anything.”
“You already are,” Sara said. “This competition was made for you.”
“I don’t want to get caught flat-footed. I studied pastry terms online last night so I’d know what they were talking about if they threw any of that high-falutin’ talk my way.”
“Hadn’t thought about that. They do that sometimes. Crème fraîche and all that.”
“Right. We make that stuff, but we never call it that. I don’t want to look silly.”
Sara put her hands on Kelly’s shoulders. “You won’t. Don’t try to be what you think they want you to be. Just be you. You’re deserving of this opportunity. The only person worried about your lack of formal training is you. I promise you that.”
“I hope you’re right,” Kelly said.
“You know desserts better than anyone, and you do sweet and savory all the time,” Sara said. “It’s why we have customers all over the nation. Something for everyone.”
“I can do this,” she said, trying to believe it.
“You’ve totally got this. Trust yourself. You know, you could sell these.”
“Good plan.” Kelly picked up a red marker and a bakery case card from the baker’s rack and wrote Cupid’s Red Hot Chocolate Cake. She lined up the other three cakes onto a narrow baking sheet and carried them out to the front case.
Kelly opened the case and slid the tray into place, then slipped the sign into the shiny metal clip.
“Those are beautiful.” Mrs. Thompson, the town librarian, peered over her hot pink readers.
“Thank you. It’s a brand-new recipe.” Kelly caught the grin on Sara’s face. “Thought I’d test out some new ones for the holiday.”
“Add one of those to my order,” Mrs. Thompson said. “And four forks. They’re simply gorgeous. If they’re even half as good as they look, they’ll be to die for.”
Kelly boxed up the cake, and then there were two.
They waved to Mrs. Thompson as she left.
“I thought I’d given you a challenge, but you handled that like nothing,” Sara said. “I’d better up the difficulty on those orders I wrote up.”
“Pickles. Sushi. Dirt!” Kelly rolled her eyes. “Okay, not dirt, but you know what I mean. Maybe edible flowers. And don’t go easy. I mean crazy stuff. You’ve seen the show.”
“I have. Okay, that’s going to be challenging, but I can do that. I’ll try to think of the toughest one I’ve seen them do, and flip it on its head.”
“Great.” Kelly grabbed two small buckets from the shelf—one red and one pink. “You can put the challenges in the pink bucket. And the random items in the red one. Then I’ll just blindly pick one from each bucket and go for it.”
“We only have two days.” Sara grabbed a small mixing bowl and set it next to the buckets. “I’ll put time frames in here. We’ll do an hour, ninety minutes, or unlimited.”
“Yes! That’s a great idea.” Kelly hugged Sara. “Thanks for putting up with me through all of this. I know I’m being a pain.”
“Are you kidding? If I were in your shoes, I’d be one hot mess. You’re just trying to be prepared, and I’m happy to help any way I can.” Sara grabbed a notebook and pen. “I’m going to go back out front, but I already have an idea for the first challenge. Are you ready for it?”
“I hope so.” Kelly slid the half-eaten cake to the side. “Whatever we bake
