Page 23 of Midnight Snack

chapter

twelve

Caroline

“Can you believe it’s our last day of shooting?” the make-up artist asks me.

“No. It’s been a whirlwind,” I admit.

“Tell me about it,” she says. Then she leans a little closer. “No, really tell me about it because rumor has it you and the naughty baker are cooking up more than treats together.”

My face heats, a clear indication that I’m turning bright red.

“Shit, I’m sorry, hon. I just let my mouth run without consulting my noggin. Just ignore me.”

“Are people really talking about us?”

“Yes. If you ask me, I think it’s sweet. Y’all have great on-screen chemistry so it’s no surprise.”

“Thank you,” I mumble. But my thoughts are racing through the rest of the make-up application and the hairstyling. I’ll be glad to get home where I don’t even own a can of hairspray. I’m used to wearing my hair in three different styles: braided, ponytail, or hanging loose down my shoulders. It’s long and thick so for the most part I wear it up and off my face and shoulders because of the kitchen. No one wants hair in their baked goods.

Oh, but you could use spun sugar to make edible hair, that could be a fun treat topping. I mentally file that away to tell Damien about later.

Then I’m whisked out of my chair and brought onto set. Today we’re really just presenting our baked goods to the judges. I mean not just because this is the most important part. But because we’ve been baking things all week, they’ve been really judging us all week on partnership, creativity, taste and presentation.

So today is really just a formality for the show. Damien meets me right outside my dressing room and leans down to kiss my cheek.

“You always look beautiful, but I really prefer the way you normally look.”

“You mean in my sloppy clothes and braided hair?”

“I mean your gorgeous face clean of make-up and your hair soft and shiny. Just Caroline. Sweet Caroline,” he says.

I glare up at him. “If you sing it, I will cut your balls off.”

He looks taken aback and then laughs hysterically. “Duly noted.”

The filming goes by quickly and I am careful to make eye contact and shake Ivan Richards’s hand. He gives me a genuine smile and says that I should expect to see him pop into Sugar Bakers in the near future.

Holy crap! The food editor of Texas Monthly in our bakery. This is why I wanted to compete in this particular show. It was never about the television. I have zero aspirations to be on camera. I just wanted it for the contacts and exposure for Sugar Bakers.

“You’re all smiles,” Damien says.

“Mr. Richards said he’s going to come to Sugar Bakers soon.”

“That’s amazing, Sweetness. But not at all surprising. You’re a fantastic pastry chef, he’d be a fool not to visit and see what else you can do.”

It’s on my tongue to ask him, what happens now? I’m supposed to drive home, and I guess he’ll drive home too. He told me this wasn’t a fling, but there have been no words about what happens after filming.

I’ve nearly mustered enough courage to ask when one of the production assistants calls me over to her.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell Damien.

“Yeah. I’m going to go clear out the rest of my stuff from my dressing room.”

“What’s up?” I ask the younger woman.

She glances around her and then pulls me into the shadows of the set. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, and you’ll find out eventually when the show airs. But I wanted you to know now before anything else happens. Because, well, because I really like you and I think you’ve been amazing for the show.”