Hunting Ember (Pride of Alphas #1) - Milly Taiden Page 0,4

down to the morrow of her bones.

After driving onto the set and leaving her car in the visitors' parking, Ember made her way to the enormous studio building. It looked like a massive sardine box, all aluminum and metal with minimal flare from the outside.

But the second she stepped inside, everything shifted.

The sound stage was gigantic, big enough to accommodate twelve work stations, each complete with a stand mixer, a stovetop, and more ingredients than Ember would have thought possible. The work stations were divided into four rows of three with four industrial-sized ovens at the very back. Each side was flanked by a massive refrigerator and shelves stacked high with all kinds of things. Candy melts, different types of flour, and a wide array of other ingredients Ember was just itching to use.

“You can’t be in here,” a short, sweating man in his forties squawked like an angry bird. “The contestants are all waiting in the green room next door. There,” he pointed to a small door off to the side. “You’ll all be brought in one at a time for some on-screen time, just a little introduction interview for the viewers. Besides,” his eyes racked down her body in shocking disdain. Way harsh, birdman. “You obviously haven’t gone to Makeup yet.”

Ember was shocked, genuinely shocked that this man was talking to her like that. “I’ll have you know that my sister is Cinder Brady, and she did my makeup this morning. I know I look all right. I don’t know why you’re so rude to me, but please keep your comments about my appearance to yourself.”

The man balked, his thin finger pointed toward the green room.

Ember stalked off, still stunned by the rudeness of the stranger. Had Cinder really done her makeup? No, that had been a lie. Well, sort of. Her sister had shown her exactly how to apply a simple line of liquid eyeliner and a few coats of mascara. Ember was a baker who could decorate a cake with expertise; she had a steady hand. She knew her liner was straight and made her eyes pop.

Whoever that guy had been, he was clearly stressed out about something. Maybe he needed to eat something to get his blood-sugar levels up. Ember rolled her shoulders back and took a deep breath before pushing open the door.

The green room wasn’t actually green. The walls were a soft dove gray color and were lined with dark gray couches. A few people were already seated there, each more nervous than the last.

A thin woman with mousy brown hair was holding a clipboard, her back toward the door. Ember couldn’t help but feel the wisps of recognition in her brain. That hair and lousy posture reminded her of someone she had gone to culinary school with. As if sensing eyes on the back of her head, the woman spun on her heels.

“Ashleigh?”

The woman’s face turned from a bright smile to an illegible mask. “Hello, Ember.”

“Wow, it’s been a minute. How’s it going?”

Ashleigh held her clipboard to her chest. “I’m working for F&D Network. How do you think it’s going?”

Ember forced out a smile. Obviously, the years hadn’t changed Ashleigh much from her surly attitude. Unfortunately, Ember had once commented that Ashleigh should only make lemon-flavored treats because it paired well with her attitude. She hadn’t meant for Ashleigh to hear her. Hell, she hadn’t even meant the words, but the damage had been done.

From that moment on, Ashleigh had absolutely hated Ember.

Not that she could blame Ashleigh. It had been a pretty shitty thing to say. Ember had baked the other woman an apology cake: chocolate cheesecake with a cookie crumble crust. The cake had been untouched before being tossed out. No amount of apologizing and groveling had set things to rights. Ember had wanted to blame her lack of judgment and mean comment on the fact that she had been reamed out by a teacher for using non-recipe items in an exam. But really, she had been raised better than that. It didn’t matter that Ashleigh had thrown the metaphorical first punch by telling everyone Ember was the ugly Brady sister.

Maybe Ashleigh had been put on Ember’s path again so that the two women could mend fences.

“That is wonderful. What a cool job!” Ember meant the words, but Ashleigh narrowed her eyes, her lips pinched into a tight scowl.

“Yes, well. You’re next in the makeup chair. Through that door, turn down to the left.”

Ember waved at the other contestants, an