His lips formed a firm line, and his eyes blazed. "Fine. You want serious, you'll get it."
"Thank you." She gathered the cleaned items into her arms and staggered back to the counter. Adrenaline carried her to the spot. She'd been running on it all day.
Xavier was at her side once again. He crossed his arms over his chest. "What the hell is going on?"
"I'm trying to win a competition."
"No. You weren't like this on Thursday, or yesterday when we were practicing, or even this morning at the 5k. You were stressed before, but this is a whole other level. The producers asked my teammates and me to play around today. They said it was a little too serious on Thursday and wanted more banter and fun. That we needed to lighten up the atmosphere."
"So they want you to be a hindrance and not a help?"
His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in. "Careful, there. You don't want to say something you might regret later."
"Just leave the football and the jokes behind, okay?"
He stood too close, making the space feel even smaller. Movement to her left caught her attention. A cameraman had his lens aimed at them. How long had he been there? How much had he seen? Damn it. Too late, she turned her back to the camera. Xavier also must have noticed the cameraman because he turned away and muttered an expletive under his breath.
Happy, chirpy music blared from the speakers, sharply contrasting the anger swirling and clawing in her gut. She checked her station—for the tenth time that morning. By only sharing the news to "lighten up" with the players and excluding the bakers, the network had set up the potential for a lot of conflict. Ratings were important, she got that, but trying to force things in this way wasn't right. Maybe they didn't understand that for some people, like her, the stakes were so high they were in the stratosphere.
If she lost this round due to a football arcing into her station...
The host stood, microphone in hand, in front of the camera. Off to the side, one of the producers counted down, "And we're live in three, two, one..."
"Good evening, Food TV viewers." The show's host smiled and greeted the judges and ran through a quick catch-up for new viewers. Then he faced the teams. "Bakers, interference happens on the football field, and it's happening in this competition too. Instead of cake, today's theme is pie. And if one pie is good, then two would be better. You'll have ninety minutes to create two pies. One of them must use refrigerated pie crust. The other one can have any type of crust you want. We'll start the clock... now!"
Ashley turned toward Xavier. "I wasn't expecting pies. Or that we'd have to use refrigerated pie crust for one of them. I'm thinking my mom's apple pie, and then for the refrigerated one, what if we made your mom's ricotta pie?"
His brows shot up and for a split second, something vulnerable flickered in his gaze, but it was gone with his next blink. "Whatever you think is best, partner."
How had he made partner sound like a bad thing? "I'll handle the pie crust. You start peeling apples."
Ashley rushed to combine the flour, butter, salt and sugar for her made-from-scratch pie crust. She divided the dough into halves and put them in the refrigerator to chill.
Voices carried from Blackstone Bakery's station. "No rolling pin. How the hell did we misplace the rolling pin? I know I saw you with it last." Blackstone glared at Tyson and then crouched on the floor and dug through a box. "We don't have time to run around looking for it."
"I swear I put it back on the counter." Tyson glanced around the station, snatched up a water bottle, and held it sideways. "Maybe this..."
Ashley inched closer. If Blackstone didn't have a rolling pin and had to resort to using a plastic water bottle with dents and ridges, the aesthetic quality of his pies would suffer.
The temptation to pretend she hadn't overheard his predicament was strong. She needed to win, but not like this. Especially not with how he was blaming Tyson. Maybe the missing rolling pin was the result of the producers' need to add in more conflict... After what had happened with the football, she wouldn't put anything past anyone. She strode over to their station and stood in front of Blackstone.
She couldn't look at him and not think of him as her nemesis. But if she were stuck in his situation, she'd want someone to be kind. "I overheard your rolling pin problem. Here, you can use this."
Surprise coloring his features, Blackstone warily regarded the wooden spiral she held out. "But, don't you need it?"
"We brought two." Her mother's pin would bring more than good luck. She'd never trust that one to him, but maybe using one with Bliss Bakery stamped onto it would imprint something into his subconscious.
He slowly reached for the pin. Watching the confusion and hesitation play across his face, she pushed the pin closer. "Take it. You need it."
Head cocked to the side, he studied her a moment longer, then offered a careful smile and closed his hand closed around the spindle. "Thank you."
She nodded and returned to her station. Xavier brushed her arm as she passed and the incidental contact burned through her. The brief contact revived the want, the need, the desire she'd been determined to ignore. Impossible now, with her nerve endings on fire.
Until he opened his mouth. "Fraternizing with the enemy?"
"Something like that." She rolled her shoulders, but the ache between them wouldn't fade. "Remember, when you roll out the two pie crusts, make one larger, and the larger crust is the one that lines the pan."
"I know." He'd made that mistake while testing the recipe. It had been funny then. It would not
