through one barely open eye. “Are you with her?”
Seth laughs. “That’s a hard no.”
Likewise, buddy.
“I’m Andrews Bagel Company.” He pushes the tray closer.
“Here you go, Dan. Sorry,” Nance says with a bright smile, returning the pen.
How on Earth do they only have one pen? It’s the Food Channel, for Pete’s sake.
“Thanks for the break.” Dan sits up straighter, poises the pen on the labels in front of him, pointing the back end of the pen toward Seth’s items. “So that’s The Bagel Place?”
“No!” I screech and Seth’s eyebrows scrunch up. Even Nance glances over with concern. “That’s Andrews,” I say in a much quieter voice.
“Jeez, I knew you hated me, but that reaction is a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
I want to punch Seth in the upper arm like I used to do when I was nine and he flirted with Zoey Rekert. Instead, I ignore him and point at my goods. “This is The Bagel Place.” I point at Seth’s. “That’s Andrews Bagel Company.”
“That’s right. Okay, you’re all checked in.”
I stare at the containers Dan hasn’t yet marked. He has the labels written out with times and marked the ones that need refrigeration, but he’s yet to place them on the products.
“Here are your numbers.” He hands us each a number since the companies have to remain anonymous. “Good luck to you both.”
“Thanks,” Seth says, stuffing his paper inside his pocket.
“Now, you will remember, right?” I ask.
“Jesus, Erickson, give the guy a break,” Seth says, walking away.
Dan laughs. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it handled.”
I reluctantly walk away from the table because of the line forming behind me. I blow out a breath. It’s out of my hands now.
Hopefully Dan knows what he’s doing.
Chapter Seven
Seth
The breakfast crew, as they call us, is called in to sit in a room where we can watch the judges critique our food. We’re stuffed like fucking sardines in this room with a small-ass television so we can watch someone say how delicious or shitty something we made is. It’s like signing yourself up to get your ass kicked.
“Why are you here?” Evan asks, sitting in the seat next to me.
“Why are you sitting next to me?”
“Answer my question first.”
“My mom begged and pleaded.” She was busy at the store, and since we’re still keeping this under wraps from my dad, she couldn’t escape. Her meeting me in the back alley with a tray of fresh bagels and cream cheese wasn’t suspicious at all. No wonder my brother got away with his drug problem for so long under my dad’s nose.
“You’re such a momma’s boy.”
I smile proudly. I’m not embarrassed to love my mom and want to take care of her. Besides, Evan’s doing the same thing I am. Her reason to be here matches mine.
Other bagel shop owners eye Evan and I because well, we’re their biggest competition. Andrews Bagel Company and The Bagel Place run this town as far as bagel shops go. No other place has survived long enough to be a true competitor to us since our dads split the business all those years ago.
On the television, the judges come into the room and sit in the three seats side by side.
“So what did you bring?” Evan whispers.
I catch a scent of her perfume. It’s nice. Shit, it’s more than nice. It’s dick-saluting level. I shift in my seat and cross my legs to make sure mine doesn’t salute.
“Our best sellers, of course.” I’m lying. I don’t know what our best sellers are. I just brought what my mom told me to.
“Your everything bagel, right?” Jealousy rings in her tone and I smile from the satisfaction that she knows Andrews Bagel Company bagels are better.
“Probably,” I say nonchalantly, like I don’t really care what happens today.
“What does your dad put in the dough?”
“Wouldn’t know.” I crack my neck from side to side.
My dad won’t share his recipe with anyone. After what went down with Vic Erickson, he said he trusts no one. Not my mom, not Trevor, and definitely not his son who abandoned the family business to take pictures.
They bring out the first sample and the woman announces the number. I pull mine out of my pocket because I didn’t even look at what it was. Seventeen. I glance at Evan, who has the tightest grip on hers. Sixteen.
As they work their way through each number, it’s clear we were some of the last to get our items in because they’re going in numerical order.
Evan groans when one judge spits