Cupcakes and Christmas - R.J. Scott Page 0,66

things about this place, and he’d just given me an opening for me to blurt them all out.

“The color is because of the rock flour carried in the glacial melt. The sun reflects off the glacial wash particles in the water refracting blue and green wavelengths of light.”

He side-eyed me. “How do you even know that?”

I waved the leaflet in my gloved hands right in front of his face. “It says so in here.”

“You’re a cheat.” He elbowed me. “Anyway, I can go one better without a leaflet.”

“Go on then,” I encouraged because I’d grown to love those moments when the shutters fell from Justin’s eyes, and he smiled with genuine enthusiasm and glee.

“Did you know that Lake Louise is dammed by an early Holocene moraine formed by Victoria Glacier?”

“I did not know that,” I admitted and was impressed that he didn’t appear to have a leaflet.

“To be honest, it probably formed during the Eisenhower Junction glaciation.”

“Wow.”

“Exactly.” He snapped his fingers, which didn’t work quite as well when he was wearing gloves, but then he brushed at his shoulders instead and looked smug.

“Did you study geology or something?”

He raised an eyebrow and there was mischief in his expression. “Google is my friend.”

I wanted to tease more of that soft smile, make him admit to what else he’d learned for today, but it was his turn for sound bites, and I was abruptly left alone with Clare. That would have been okay if she’d done her usual thing of ignoring me the same as she did everyone, but for some reason, she came to stand next to me where Justin had been, and weirdly she was very close.

“So, what do you think about Justin’s chances then?” she asked in a low tone, which instantly put me on edge. She had to know we were friends at least, so why was she coming over and asking me that?

“Uh—”

“He’s nowhere near my level, all that mess yesterday with the macaroons. Yes, they tasted good, but let’s face it, he’s not my level. Or yours.” The last part she added quickly as if she’d only just remembered who she was talking to. “You know it should be us in the final, right?”

“I think that anyone who reaches the final will deserve it.” I remained tactful even though I wanted to ask her what the hell was she implying.

“Yes, but we’re the two best in the competition. It should be us.”

Okay, her insistence of me agreeing with this damning statement was freaking me out. “As I said, the judges will—”

“It would be awful if Justin messed up the next round because he simply can’t make the grade, don’t you think. I mean, I’d feel so sorry for him.”

“We could all mess up.” I forced my hands in my pockets and took a casual step away from her, but she placed a hand on my arm.

“I know the two of you are close,” she placated. “But if his bake tomorrow failed, you wouldn’t want him to look stupid, would you? Maybe you could encourage him to do something simple that wouldn’t put him through to the final, but that would leave his pride intact.”

I took another step back. “Sorry?” I was horrified. “You want me to encourage Justin to self-sabotage?”

“Well, it would be good for him,” she added and reached out to pat my arm. I moved right away before she even got to me.

“You’re insane.”

Her benign smile slipped, and her expression grew hard. Her gaze frosty. “You know I’m going to win this one way or another, I just thought you might want to save your lover from the absolute shame of exposing that he’s completely useless at this.” She sounded so freaking sly, and I stiffened in anger.

“What the hell—”

“Also, it’s not like he needs the money, for God’s sake, see sense, man!” With that, she stalked away, head held high, and I was left on the shores of the peaceful turquoise lake feeling dirty. The rumors at the last reunion were that she’d cheated to win season six, some combination of paying off staff to actually switching out bakes, but no one had caught her on camera, and no witnesses stepped forward. Twitter loved a bad guy, and she’d somehow scraped a win based on talent but also on the sheer bad luck of her fellow contestants. An oven set too high, jelly that didn’t set, a missing custard. None of what happened was conclusive, and I was one of those people who