Get it together, Robin.She wiped her hands on her jeans. “Thank you again for helping.”
She had been crying into her room-service chicken strips and French fries when she heard Sammy’s knock on the door last night. Wallowing. Yes, she’d been wallowing.
And then Sammy had walked in. Saving her. Again.
Their all-night baking session had been exhausting and exhilarating by turns. She’d grabbed a quick nap while the cakes cooled for two hours, but then had been decorating, drawing agate swirls and creating geodes until her eyes crossed.
Sammy stopped wiping down the counter. “Don’t even say that. We never would have had to pull an all-nighter if it wasn’t for my macho stunt.”
“I liked you being macho.” She could admit it now.
“Still, I shouldn’t have done it.”
“Just be careful around these cakes, eh?” She winked at him.
He smiled back at her, holding up three fingers. “I’ll be extra cautious. Scout’s honor.”
The cake had turned out exactly how she’d pictured it. She’d adjusted the decorations on the castle side to pick up some of the emerald and cobalt tones of the agate side. They moved it into place next to the other cakes.
People began trickling into the room, including the two judges from the night before. Robin and Sammy helped the competition crew clean their baking station to get it ready for the young chef team scheduled to start at eight.
A few of the other contestants came by to compliment them on their cake rescue. Sammy flexed his muscles once. “That’s me. The superhero of cake rescues.” He’d smiled at her, and heat pooled in her belly.
They watched as the judging team made their way around the cakes, pausing often to consult each other and to jot notes on their clipboards. The clock ticked over to eight o’clock, and everyone in the room streamed to the front.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the judges have made their decisions. All winning teams are requested to come to the front to receive your prize, and for photos.” The announcer’s voice boomed over the general hubbub. Everyone quieted. “The runner-up is Team Higgins, with their Titanic cake. They win a premium kitchen suite of appliances.” The husband and wife hugged each other and then danced up the aisle.
“And in third place, we have Team Sweet Peaches with their Alice-in-Wonderland cake. They’ll be taking home a ten-thousand-dollar prize.” Everyone cheered for the team of chefs from Georgia as they went forward for their prize. Robin clapped along. Team Sweet Peaches’ cake, a towering structure resembling a topsy-turvy stack of teacups straight out ofAlice in Wonderland, deserved the prize.
“Next, in second place with a twenty-thousand-dollar prize, we have Team Fox with their Gemstone Castle.”
Sammy looked at her, a crazy grin on his face. “I think they just called your name.”
“Yours too. Our team.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the front of the room. People clapped and cheered. Onstage, the judge made some joke about this cake being still intact, but she barely heard him. She didn’t care what people thought. She didn’t even pay attention to the final team called. The verdict rang in her ears.
Second place.
Someone needed to pinch her, because her dreams were coming true.
Twenty thousand dollars could be a brand-new start. Maybe even in Deep Haven.
The contest winners stood in a group to have their photo taken, then individually with their trophies and oversized presentation checks. Robin’s face began to ache from all the smiling.
When they were released from photoshoot duties, Sammy moved with her out of the throng. “Congratulations, superstar. I’m proud of you.” He gave her a hug. Too soon he broke contact. She spun away from him as someone tapped her on the shoulder, offering their congratulations. When she turned back, he was gone. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to see his broad shoulders through the crowd.
Her heart sank as, instead of Sam, she saw Victor making his way directly toward her. With him was a tall, lanky woman dressed head to toe in black—a turtleneck and slim dress pants, stiletto heels.
“What do you want, Victor?” She refused to shake the hand he held out to her. “More drama?”
“Au contraire! I’ve come to apologize.”
She speared him with a look, raised one eyebrow. Apologize? Yeah, right. Although, hedidlook pretty rough with his red face, his hair slightly disheveled. She wondered if it had been a difficult day for him with the others involved in this contest. He lowered his voice and spoke again. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I behaved very poorly. I will even apologize to your lumberjack, if that would help.”
“He’s not my—Whatever. Never mind. It’s over now.”
“Can you forgive me?”
Forgive him? Probably. Eventually.
