He ran his thumbs over the back of her hands. “You can never be a fraud. You’re just as well trained as these other competitors. You worked in a bakery in Paris, for Pete’s sake, not to mention all the schooling and practice you’ve completed.” Her fingers finally warmed in his.
She looked up at him, pale green eyes shining a little hope. “I might need you to keep me calm today.”
He dropped one hand and gave her a small salute. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“I hope you’re also here to help bake, because I can’t do this on my own.” Robin dropped his other hand and his fingers cooled.
“That’salsowhat I’m here for, boss.” Sammy leaned a hip against the countertop.
A buzzer sounded. Over the loudspeaker, a voice announced, “Five minutes to bake time!”
Robin straightened so fast Sammy thought he heard her spine snap in place. He grinned at her. Now her face held the professional look it always took on when she started baking something.
He took his place beside her at the worktop. “We got this.”
Around them their competitors also stood shoulder to shoulder at their stations. Their nearest competition was two women who owned a wedding cake business in Savannah, Georgia. Across from them was a husband-and-wife team from Tennessee. He hadn’t met the couple dressed like Mario and Luigi from the video game, but he gave them props for their fun attitude.
Beside him Robin stilled. She stared at the judges’ table. “Oh no.” Her words breathed out of her.
“‘Oh no’ what?” He looked in the direction she was staring. A small group of people clustered near the front of the room. A woman in a pantsuit, who he vaguely recognized from a cooking show he’d seen, a man in a navy blue suit and a cowboy hat, and another man dressed in chef’s whites with a French flag embroidered on the sleeve all stood chatting with one another.
“The man in the chef coat is Victor.” Robin reached up and tucked her hair into her scarf.
“What, likeVictorVictor? ‘The man who stole your work’ Victor?” His blood ran hot.
“That’s the one.” Robin stiffened. “It looks like he’s one of the judges.”
Sammy didn’t know why Victor didn’t like Robin, but having him on the judging panel couldn’t be good, could it?
“Do we need to report that to someone? Do you think he will be impartial?”
Robin shrugged, a tight movement that moved her shoulders up an inch. “I don’t know. I hope so.”
The judges moved behind their table as the announcer took up the mic again. “Ladies and gentlemen, start your baking!” An air horn rang out, and the huge digital competition clock began counting down.
She turned to him, the earlier hope in her eyes a distant light. “Nothing we can do about it now. Let’s just make this cake shine.”
Sammy checked his laminated list one more time before settling in to work. They soon worked as a real team, Sammy measuring ingredients and Robin sifting them into the mixing bowl. The rhythmic thumping of the mixer punctuated their conversation.
“I’ll get these pans ready, you watch the batter.” Robin lifted the cake pans onto the worktop. They had decided on a castle straight out of a fairy tale. Robin told him it was similar to the cake that had gotten her fired, but with more oomph. The sketches she’d made looked complicated, but he believed in her.
Keeping an eye on the time the batter had been mixing, Sammy also scoped out the competition. The women from Georgia wore flour all over their aprons, and a pile sat on the floor. Some kind of accident, he assumed. In their area, Mario and Luigi sang an Italian song while filling two thin sheet pans. And across from them, the married couple stood in the middle of their station loudly arguing. He caught something about who was in charge of bake times. Scattered throughout the rest of the room were several other teams he didn’t have time to check out, bringing the total number of teams to ten.
Uh-oh. The judges seemed to be making their way from baker to baker. He could only hope Victor would leave Robin alone.
Sammy turned off the mixer. “This looks good. Ready with those pans?”
“Bring it on.”
He poured the mix into the greased and paper-lined pans. “Don’t look now, but we’re about to have a visit from your favorite ex-boss.”
“Best to just get it over with, I guess. But he’ll have to wait until I get these cakes in the oven.” She carried the first pan to the oven, bent over and slid it in. As she bent to slide the second one in, Victor approached their workstation.
He gave a low wolf whistle Sammy hoped Robin didn’t hear. “A feisty one, that Fox,” Victor purred.
“You shouldn’t talk about a lady that way.” Sammy stood tall, crossed his arms. His gut churned. Who did this guy think he was?
Victor held up both hands in a helpless gesture. “Sorry. Sorry. You’ll have to excuse me. I am French. We are a passionate people.”
