Rita stood in front of us with her clipboard.
“Okay, sound bites in the atrium. Ivan, you’re up first.”
We made our way to the foyer but just as we reached the door, I tugged Justin to a stop. “Seriously, thank you for the heads up.”
He bit his lip and smiled all at the same time. “It’s all good.” He stepped closer to me. I could feel his breath on my skin, smell chocolate on his hands, see a tiny smudge of buttercream on his collar that makeup would sort. “Anyway, I owed you for that shit before.” He placed a hand on my arm and leaned in even further. “You would have done the same thing for me.”
He was too near. His voice was soft. The corridor was empty. We were alone, and I was hard. God, he was all smiles and gorgeous eyes and his hand on my arm was warm, the scent of chocolate thick in the air, and if he leaned in and kissed me, I would melt into his arms. I just knew I would.
“Are we still on for the coffee?” he asked.
I pretended to consider it, tapping a finger on my lower lip. “I think that will be fine.”
“Justin, I got the photos!” Rita handed Justin his phone, and I stepped away from him.
“Photos?” I asked. Were they photos of us? Of me and him, while we just happened to be standing in a dim corridor looking all cozy and close up.
“Of the bakes, she took them as we were working,” Justin explained as he pocketed his cell.
“Well, I took some candid ones as well and got some video.”
Justin patted her arm. “I owe you one.”
“Always,” she said and clearly no one was immune to Justin’s charm. I felt stupid and embarrassed and new distrust about his motives rose up. Had Rita been prompted to capture Justin giving me advice? What about us standing here chatting alone? I fought the memories of Marc and the way he would share things with others that were supposed to be between ourselves. Just because I’d married an asshole didn’t mean that every man who looked at me was the same. But it had been Justin’s idea to fake an attraction…
Rita took candid photos. What did that mean? Familiar confusion and doubt flooded me about people’s motives around me. I pushed through into the foyer with such a bang on the door that they had to restart Clare’s sound bite filming.
“Quiet on set,” Rita admonished me as she sailed past, followed by Justin, who looked like a cat who’d not only licked the cream but gone through the entire tub. He smiled at me, but I was too flustered and upside down to return the smile. I spotted Justin on his phone, smiling like an idiot, cropping photos and posting, and my embarrassment grew. What was he posting? My cell vibrated with the post notification, but I didn’t check it immediately, waiting at least ten minutes before casually looking at what he’d posted, which was about making templates for shapes in icing.
Weird, but certainly not posts hinting at a relationship that could earn him votes.
Filming was done for the day, and we could leave, but we had to be back on set the next morning at 8 a.m. for our final challenge of what would form week one of the show. This was the gingerbread house challenge, which had to include at least nine gingerbread sides, plus an assortment of gingerbread people, trees, parcels, or anything else that told a story. I’d done okay with the cupcakes and came in third in the blind bake. If I pulled off the gingerbread house, then I’d be going through to next week, but it would be by the skin of my teeth. My idea was a good one. I was convinced of it, now all I had to do was create a Victorian toy shop complete with toys, trees, and a rainbow gingerbread awning. I hadn’t practiced it, too caught up in working on Christmas orders before this mini vacation and trying to help Lacey with her side of the business. But I knew gingerbread, and I wouldn’t make the same mistakes I made with the cake. A restful night’s sleep, no more thinking about Justin, and it would all be good.
The six of us walked back over to the Fairmont, but Clare strode away from us, obviously still pissed that she’d not won the wreath challenge. I don’t know why she