Jonathan. They all had made big, impressive desserts. I studied my ramekins and tried to compose a winning holiday card of Jonathan, broad shouldered and handsome in his suit, and me, covered in egg and tangerine zest and reeking of burned sugar.
Keeley pranced over with her tart. “Take my picture from this side,” she ordered, striking a Betty Boop pose as she pretended to cut into the tart and serve it to Jonathan.
I hated to admit it, but it was a pretty good picture.
“You’re next,” Emma said, motioning me up.
I had pulled off my T-shirt, which left me in my black chemise. It was more photogenic than the stained T-shirt, though the studio was chilly.
“Are we going clothing optional now?” Jonathan asked with a quirk of his mouth. “Because I would have no complaints with that.”
“It’s a miracle you manage to get anything done,” I retorted, “if the only thing you can think of is sex.”
“How do you want your picture?” Emma asked me.
I studied the photo setup the bake-off was using. I had originally designed it way back in November when I was still riding the high of Halloween. It was a perfect backdrop for someone with a towering cake or, ahem, an elaborate soufflé. However, I had none of that now.
“Outside!” I told everyone.
It was snowing slightly. Jonathan stood against the backdrop of the gray winter sky. I checked the camera, making sure we had his profile perfect. “We need to be in the bottom third of the shot,” I told Lilith, moving the tripod back and composing the shot.
“What in the world are you doing?” Belle asked me.
“A minimalist couple’s portrait.”
I had nixed the cocktail from the shot. It was orange. It would have gone great with the photo I had planned for the soufflé, but hey, it’s art—you adjust. I stood facing Jonathan, my hand outstretched, balancing one of the small ramekins. Jonathan’s hand came up to cup mine. The wind blew my hair around me as Lilith snapped the photos.
“You know,” Jonathan said, “if these pictures don’t turn out how you want them to, we can always do a parody of the video of Dorothy that’s going viral.”
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Jonathan
“You two are barely visible,” Belle remarked as we all stared at the black-and-white photo on the tiny camera screen.
“No, this is exactly what I want,” Morticia declared. “It has to be ten feet tall to appreciate the full effect.”
“You are so extra,” her sister Lilith said.
“I think the naked yoga pictures would be better,” I told Morticia.
“You have no vision,” she retorted. She took out her phone as we went inside for the judges to taste the desserts. “I can’t believe people are watching Dorothy do naked yoga.”
“You did a very tasteful job covering her. I especially liked the elf faces that were at the chest area,” I said to Morticia.
“You joke, but I’m the one that had to edit that all together.”
“When she signs off on Hamilton Yards,” I promised Morticia, “I will take you anywhere in the world you want to go as a thank-you for your sacrifice.”
The judges were lukewarm on Morticia’s desserts. “It’s a basic crème brûlée,” Nick said. “It tastes fine; you can’t go wrong with nutmeg and rum.”
“I’m impressed with the design,” Anu said. “I’ve never seen anyone make designs on the burned sugar the way you have.”
“Those are a bit corporate,” Nick said. “I could see this at a conference or like an upscale chain hotel restaurant. I give it a C.”
“B for effort,” Anu told Morticia. “I hope this dessert doesn’t send you home.”
“We have to serve desserts like those crème brûlées at the hotel that will be at Hamilton Yards,” I told Morticia.
We were in my condo. She was setting up for another photo shoot, while I was trying to subtly prompt her to help me with the development. “You think you could make one with a logo to show Dorothy?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
I kissed her. “I’m so close to her signing, I can taste it!” I kissed Morticia again, harder this time, reveling in the way she melted against me. “You’re the best thing to happen to me. The Harringtons can suck it once I win Hamilton Yards.”
Morticia seemed apprehensive.
“Don’t worry,” I assured her, “we will keep all the historic character, including art pieces. Shoot, we can build live-work studio spaces for artists. It will be amazing.”
She was thoughtful. “Yes, I suppose that would be pretty cool.”
I wrapped her in my arms. “I need you to help me,”