Cupcakes and Christmas - R.J. Scott Page 0,27

going to be someone who pretended attraction just to get public appreciation or to raise ratings. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him and spent the next hour until first filming making it very obvious I was ignoring the fuck out of him. One bathroom break later, I couldn’t help myself and checked my phone. He’d posted the first selfie talking about day one, and then there it was, the one of the two of us.

“Day one filming with this cutie, Brody Thomas, Snowman Rescuer, #season4winner #sexybaker #darkeyes #askhimforcoffee #coffeedate #sorrynotsorry.”

Faker.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Justin was waiting for me with a neutral expression, but with his arms crossed protectively over his chest. He looked oddly vulnerable.

“Brody,” he began but didn’t get to say anything else as Rita came bustling out and called for us to take our places and get ready for shooting.

I was happy to get back in the room and not let one moment of embarrassment at my stupidity to think I could ask him for a coffee and maybe get to know him to ruin what I was doing.

Only my mood hadn’t recovered even as I baked my first batch of cupcakes, and I was only seconds away from burning them. There was now footage of me flailing on the floor balancing two hot trays of cupcakes while cursing that I’d not set a timer.

Great. Day one and I was messing things up. I’m better than this. I could imagine a client commissioning a cake and me telling them that I’m sorry I burned it. Not a great look for me.

“You okay down there?” Justin leaned over my counter, the muscles in his shoulders bunching as the cameras panned over my drama. I think he was trying for humor, but I read sarcasm.

“It’s all good,” I bit out and rolled to a stand. This wasn’t the first time I’d forgotten to set a timer, but my instincts were good. I wasn’t typically as stressed as this. Fucking Justin and fake flirtations.

Courtney appeared with the judges, and the cameraman stood to one side capturing me, my virgin cakes, and it was my time for a sound bite.

“Those look really nice,” Lewis said. “Not dry at all.” He turned to the camera. “Sometimes red velvet can be dry if it’s not removed from the oven at the exact moment.”

Thank you for underlining my momentary panic.

“Agreed,” I said and forced a smile. He was giving a silent warning that I was fucking things with his patented smug smile. Asshole.

“So tell us about your bake.” Venetia leaned into Lewis and smiled up at him. They had the on-show flirtation down. Was that what they wanted from me and Justin? Surely people saw through this shit like I did?

“I’m using a simple red velvet cupcake with an American buttercream flavored with kirsch and decorating with tempered chocolate.”

Lewis made a hmmm noise of concern and placed his hands on the counter to brace himself. “American buttercream can be very sweet.”

“Which will perfectly balance the kirsch,” I replied evenly.

“Do you think your idea is too simple?” He was pushing me, but I had to ignore him.

Did I? I blinked at him for a second at the trick question. “Not at all, when you’re making cupcakes, there isn’t a need for overcomplication, it’s about the flavor and the balance of sweet and sharp.”

Lewis did that hmmm thing again, and I waited for him to comment. He didn’t say anything else but keeping quiet after landing a particularly heavy comment was his stock in trade. He liked to make the contestants worry, which inevitably made them do something stupid. In my season, he’d implied to Paula, my closest rival, that her idea was too complicated. She removed embellishments and then he announced she should have pushed harder and marked her down. He knew how to play the game, and I had to be sure not to rise to it.

Then it was Venetia’s turn as his opposite judge, she was the good cop to his bad cop, and she had it down perfectly.

“Don’t listen to Mr. Grumpy,” she trilled as she placed a hand on his arm, her scarlet nail polish a perfect contrast to his emerald sweater. “Simple is good, I want to taste the kirsch and the sweetness of the cream, and I can’t wait to see your chocolate work.”

“Thank you,” I acknowledged but didn’t fail to pick up on her use of simple. They were a team in undermining