Cupcakes and Christmas - R.J. Scott Page 0,65
and going off on a tour, but because I’d grown to like him a lot. He was funny and genuine and some of the best clips I’d gotten for my channel had been because I’d totally relaxed with him, and our banter was off the charts. The most recent post featuring him was my biggest post this year so far, and all it contained was Ivan and I talking about chocolate and ending up in tears of laughter over a stupid story about a chocolate penis he’d mistakenly had sent to Kristen’s mom for her birthday. It was stupid and funny, and when I peered at myself laughing, it was absolutely genuine. I felt that laughter through every cell in my body, and it was the most honest I’d ever seen myself on camera.
Not that the Mallys couldn’t distinguish that fact. At least none of them pointed out that the video seemed more genuine, but the likes weren’t just a heart or a thumbs up or a laugh emoji, there were real comments, people sharing embarrassing stories of things they’d sent or received by mistake. Erin and her team went through and liked the posts but that didn’t sit right with me, and I blame Brody completely for everything. He’s the one person I’ve ever met that makes me want to do better. The people who are commenting on my post, sharing all the funny stories, I should go through and individually respond and give people the time to talk. I made a list, but even factoring in the time to read them all, let alone answer them, was overwhelming. So much so, I ended up closing my phone and pretended that no one had commented at all.
Great.
I don’t think that Ivan had deliberately self-sabotaged his bakes. His strawberry and basil entremet didn’t set although he swore blind he’d added the right amount of gelatin, and then his prickly pear macaroons stayed flat. But I wonder what I would do if Brody had lost? Would I follow him as soon as I could?
All I know is that with Ivan gone it was me, Brody, and the gloating Clare to go through to the filming for the fourth episode. I never thought I’d be invested in getting to the final show, but since Brody had happened, my entire outlook on WBBS had shifted. I didn’t have the extra bakers that Erin hired poking and primping to make things look good for the camera, but I’d actually won baker of the week this episode, and that wasn’t because everyone else was shit. In fact, my cupcake round was a close thing with Brody, and my showpiece was only just marginally better than Clare’s. But the judges said that it was the taste of my bakes that had won it for me. Just hearing those words meant the impostor syndrome cape I wore tightly around me began to slip.
My bakes could be a little on the messy side at times, but I knew how to bake. I knew sugar work, and my chocolate tempering was fine. So I should have more faith in myself.
Maybe I didn’t need Erin and her team? Was it possible that I could manage my own life very nicely, without her micro-managing what, when, and how I did things? She’d lose her shit over my idea of a children’s focus, and she was right. Justin the adult baker needed to change, and what if I could do it on my own?
I was filled with positive energy and the directors interviewed the three of us separately. By the time we headed back to the Fairmont, I was exhausted, happy, and all I wanted to do was to lay on the bed and cuddle with Brody.
Chapter Eighteen
Oh Pilates?! I thought you said pie and lattes!
Brody
There’s a photo that I have seen everywhere. It’s of a stunning turquoise lake with mountains behind it and a glimpse of the Victoria Glacier, and the water is so clear that it reveals tumbled stones beneath. I never once imagined I’d actually see this wonderful place for real, but here I was, with Justin and Clare, right on the shores of Lake Louise, outside a huge hotel, where we were doing finalist sound bites. Clare was up first and had been hurried off to the perfect spot for filming, which gave Justin and me a short space to chat away from the camera. I’d take any free moment I could.
“It’s so blue,” Justin declared. I knew