“I called you twenty-three times in a row,” Mama Bear says. “I was wondering how many it would take before you blocked me. I left messages until your box was full.”
“I’ve been busy,” I say. “You know, with high school.”
Mama Bear doesn’t take the bait. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” I say. After he dropped me off, I went inside and ate a tub of ice cream. That only made me feel worse, so I ran around the block until I threw up in my neighbor’s bushes. Sadly, I didn’t even do that many laps. “If you called for anything else, like to tell me I’m out of the contest, don’t worry. I’ve already decided I can’t go back to HEAT.”
There’s silence.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“Just you,” Mama Bear says. “You don’t see that right now you have all the power. Zack’s posting has made this competition huge. HEAT is making loads of money and getting a lot of press. You’ve got a massive fan following. KCC can’t cut you. He’s hoping you won’t show up. He wants you to forfeit. He’s ready to throw Dixon, Jeff and Dennis back in and extend the competition. It would take all three of them and the extra weeks to replace you.”
“I don’t have any power. KCC won’t let me win even if I do come back.”
Mama Bear says, “Do you want KCC to have the last word?”
“It’s his competition. At his restaurant. He automatically has the last word. Besides, you heard what he said to me,” I say. “Anyway, I have to go.”
“Wait,” Mama Bear says. “Whether you come back or not, I’m going to keep calling you to see how you’re doing.”
“I can’t stop you.”
“Theo, there’s something else you should know that may change your mind. The final round is dessert.”
Oh crap.
“I get why you might want to drop out and how embarrassed you must feel,” Mama Bear continues. “But you have a chance to show everyone, including KCC, that you have what it takes. You’re the baker cub. Even Chef KCC can only cook. Why not make KCC choke on that? You’re better than him, and not just because you’re a better baker.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say before we hang up.
“Was that about the contest?” Di asks. I was in the sewing lab with her when Mama Bear began blowing up my phone. Di’s wearing what I can only describe as a metallic jester outfit. Her sleeves keep getting in the way of the sewing machine.
I nod and tell Di what Mama Bear said. She listens as she sews.
“What do you want to do?” she asks.
“I don’t know. Since you’re always right, I was hoping you’d tell me,” I say.
She shakes her head. “This one has to be your call. If you don’t want to go back, I get that. And if you do, I get that too.”
“Come on, Di. You love to tell me what to do!”
“This one has to be you. You have to decide for yourself,” she says.
“I don’t want to see any of them again,” I say. “All I’ve been is humiliated and ashamed. I know maybe it wasn’t all my fault, but you were right about them being too old for me. About the whole thing being a bad idea.”
“You took a chance. You were adventurous. You shouldn’t be ashamed. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Di says.
We sit in silence. Di keeps sewing.
I sigh. “It’s dessert. That’s my thing. But what if it’s a trick?”
“This isn’t about dessert or the final round. This is about who you are. You’re a baker. No one, not even KCC, should scare you off your own turf.” Di pulls the fabric from the sewing machine.
“Then I don’t have any other choice. I have to go back. And I have to bake,” I say.
“You’ll want to wear this when you do.” Di hands me what she’s been working on.
I get to HEAT and head straight to my station to see what equipment is there. I brought a couple of extra things just in case. On my way to the backstage area, KCC corners me. I freeze when I see him. I remember freezing in his office.
“We should talk,” he says.
I don’t answer.
“Listen. Things got crazy in the heat of the moment.”
“I agree,” I manage to get out.
“But I’m glad you’re here.” KCC gives me a smile. It’s a great smile. He sounds smooth again. He still smells great, still looks handsome.
I hate myself for thinking that.
“I want things to be good between us. Brandon and I talked. We should all hang out. No drama this time.”
“I don’t know…” I say.
KCC reaches out and rubs my forearm. “We can make sure you win. And we’ll get you a good job to start you out. We can give you everything you want. That includes us.” He smiles again. The light catches his teeth and shines. He looks sexy. He’s being nice like he was that time he drove me home. “It’s a good offer, cub. You should take it.”
I remind myself that no matter how good KCC looks or smells or acts, I left his office feeling horrible about myself. I won’t give him another chance to make me feel that way again.
“No, thanks,” I say. “I don’t want the win if you’re handing it to me. I’m a baker. A real one. If I can’t win fair and square, I don’t deserve to.”
“I see,” KCC says. He crosses his arms over his chest. His smile is gone. “That’s not the best business decision.”
“Maybe not.”
“Let’s see if you still feel this way after tonight,” he says and strides away.
I avoid him, Brandon and Mama Bear as they all hurry around the restaurant before start time. I can’t be thinking about any of them now. I have lots of work ahead of me. I even made a time schedule for myself. I have to focus on the baking and only the baking.
When Mama Bear announces my name I walk out to my station. The lights are brighter than normal. I start to sweat instantly. In the audience I see Di sitting next to Benji. None of his friends are at their table. I look down at the apron Di made for me. On the front she has created a bear’s head out of fake fur, teeth bared, roaring. She even sewed me matching bear-paw oven mitts with claws. I feel like a warrior dressed for battle.
Arm raised, Mama Bear looks at Zack and me.
“Okay, boys, for the last time, Ready, Set, HEAT!”
I grab my schedule, my list and my mixing bowls and arrange them on the counter. I then start placing all the ingredients I will need on a cookie sheet so I don’t forget any as I go.
KCC stops at my station. “You’re wasting valuable time,” he says.
I ignore him. Once I’m organized, I begin to weigh my ingredients.
“A little too hot in here, big boy?” KCC says quietly, so only I can hear. He pretends to inspect the contents of my bowls. “Maybe you need to slow down. Stop. Take a break. Please.”
I continue to ignore him. He moves on.
Soon my station is smelling delicious as I move pans in and out of the oven. My mixers whip nonstop.
“My offer is still good,” KCC whispers. He has reappeared behind me. I can smell his cologne. I close my eyes and breathe it in. He touches my lower back.
I could lean into him a little. I could guarantee a win instead of fighting so hard for what is almost sure to be a loss.
“We both know you don’t need to bake to get me out of my pants, cub,” he says smoothly. “What will it take to get you out of yours?”
I step away. I slip on my oven mitts and use my new paws to grab a hot tray. As I bend over, KCC squeezes my ass.
I straighten up quickly. The bear’s head on my apron shifts and roars across my chest. I step back onto KCC’s foot.
With a muttered curse KCC pulls his foot out from under mine. He leans in closer. “I’m getting tired of you playing hard to get, cub. I’m not afraid to play hard too.”
I don’t answer. I have five minutes left. I begin to add the decorations to my dessert. In the last minute, I clean the edges of the platters. As the crowd counts down the final seconds, I wipe my brow and stand back, happy with what I’ve done. Even if it doesn’t win, I know it’s a winning dessert.
Mama Bear introduces KCC and Brandon to the crowd. But there is one more judge.
“We have a special guest judge for the dessert round. If you haven’t tried her sweet treats, you don’t know what you’re missing. Seriously, what have you been doing? Her stores are everywhere in this city. Please welcome Trudy Singh, the Trudy behind Truly Trudy Bake Shoppes.”
A woman steps into the light. She looks sweet in a ʼ50s-style party dress with chocolate-chip cookies and glasses of milk all over it. She has paired it with brightly colored high-tops. With a friendly grin on her face, she ruffles KCC’s and Brandon’s hair as she takes her place at the table.
Up first, Zack presents a beautiful pavlova with passion fruit curd. The judges agree that it’s delicious, with a layered profile. Creamy, crunchy, marshmallowy, tart. He scores two eights and a seven, for a total of twenty-three points.
The servers carry my platters to the judges.
“Tell me about your dessert, Theo?” Trudy asks, smiling down at my dessert. Her fork is ready in her hand.
“It’s a tasting plate. In front of you there are a dozen mini cupcakes. Each one is different. There is a classic vanilla and a chocolate, but also candied maple bacon, green tea and blond chocolate and a lot more in between. All of them can be eaten in a single bite. I call them ‘cubcakes.’” While Trudy smiles at this, I notice KCC’s eyes narrowing. There’s no going back now.
“You can eat them in any order,” I continue, “but I suggest starting at the top and going clockwise. That way you can experience a unique and deliberate flavor journey as you go.”
Trudy puts down her fork. She plucks up the first cubcake and pops it into her mouth. She closes her eyes as she chews. A smile spreads across her face.
The audience murmurs in excitement.
“It’s way too much,” Brandon says, partway through his platter. He pushes it away.
“Exactly. Far too much sweetness,” KCC agrees. “Who would even eat all this?”
Trudy opens her eyes. “I would. Do you realize how tough it would be to make all these in the time given? I think it is the ultimate dessert. It’s decadent. It’s sublime.” She licks some frosting off her pinkie finger. “It’s a perfect ten.”
Brandon and KCC whisper to one another. They give me a five and a six. Despite the perfect score from Trudy, I lose by two points.