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“It can’t be,” I muttered.
“What?”
“Um, it says here that they are bringing the contest here, to Willow Valley,” I mumbled.
“What! That’s so exciting! I mean, that would give you the time to enter, right?”
“There is no way the contest is being held here. They normally host it in New York. It’s got to be a mistake.”
Melinda reached over and pulled the magazine from me and quickly read the article. “No, it’s true. The contest is going to be right here in Willow Valley. You have to enter now!”
I pulled the magazine back and smiled. “I’ll think about it. Besides, it’s getting late. We should head home. Morning comes early.”
“Come on, Brooke, you enter every year. It would be silly not to enter when it’s being held in your own backyard,” Melinda said, excitement lining her voice.
I looked up at her and smiled. “Let me think on it.”
“Okay.” I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “I’ll just slip into the kitchen and quickly clean up everything and be on my way. You head on home. You started before me.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Melinda.”
Once I’d grabbed my coat and purse from my office, I left the bakery through the back door and cut across the parking lot to my front door. My house was situated in behind The Crispy Biscuit, it was so nice being so close. I locked my car door before heading inside and made my way to the kitchen to put on dinner.
An hour later I watched Melinda lock up the bakery from my kitchen window as I did the dishes. I was already in my fluffy pajamas, so once I was done, I sat down to try and unwind. I had the first Christmas movie of the season playing on the TV, and I reached for the magazine I’d been reading earlier. The thought ofFestive Treasuresholding their Countdown to Christmas Bake Off event right here in my hometown still blew my mind. I knew I didn’t have a choice. I’d have to enter. After all, the past two years in a row, I was the third and second place winner.
I grabbed my laptop and opened it, heading to their website. I figured I’d apply. If I heard back, it would be a bonus. I navigated to the application form and filled it out. When I got to the part of which recipe I was thinking on entering, I stopped and thought for a moment. I’d never entered my Grinch-A-Mas Cookie, or Cocoa Cuddles, yet those cinnamon rolls were on the top of my mind. I hoped that recipe could earn me a first-place ribbon if I were so lucky.
I stared at the screen, hopping between the three recipes, and finally, after much deliberation, I typed in Cinnamon Buns and hit send. There, it was done. I’d entered. I blew out a breath. Melinda was right, they were running the contest here; there was no way I couldn’t enter. I navigated away from the page and went to the local job site page and quickly posted a position for some help. If there was any way at all I was going to get through this holiday season, extra help was the key.
* * *
It had been a busy morning, the diner had been packed from the time we opened, and we’d had a line out the door for nearly two hours straight this morning with people coming in for coffee and baked goods. Once the line died off, I left Melinda to come into my small office to check email and see if I had any applications. We desperately needed help. There was no doubt about it; this morning had proved it. I opened up my email to find three. The job posting had been up for nearly a week and I’d gotten three applications. I blew out a breath as I opened the first, feeling absolutely defeated as this person had zero experience.
I was halfway through reading over the next person’s experience when Melinda came rushing into my office. “Look what just came in!” she said excitedly, as she waved an envelope through the air.
“What is it?” I asked as I watched her and the huge smile on her face.
“It’s fromFestive Treasures,” she sang, placing the envelope down in front of me. “Open it!”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I picked up the envelope and ripped the end open, sliding the letter out into my hand, quickly reading the first paragraph to myself as Melinda stood there fidgeting about.
“Well? What does it say?”
“We weren’t selected as a candidate,” I said, lowering my head and folding the letter back up.
“What? What do you mean? How could they? I mean you placed in the top three the last two years, and now they don’t want you. What’s their address? I will write them. Or better yet, their phone number. I’m going to call them and give them a piece of my mind,” Melinda said, pacing back and forth in front of me.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, Melinda, this, this is why I love you! So animated, much like me. You don’t need to call or write anyone because we were accepted.”
“Oh!”
“Yep,” I said, picking the letter back up. “It’s with our greatest pleasure to welcome you back toFestive TreasuresCountdown to Christmas Bake-Off. Please be aware of the following dates: December 1: additional applicant tryouts—you must attend, even though you have been accepted. December 12 is Contest Day, and December 21st, winners will be featured in theFestive Treasuresmagazine. We look forward to meeting you in Willow Valley. Sincerely, Tristan Ryan, Food Critic and Judge Number 3 for this year’s Countdown to Christmas Bake-Off.”
As Melinda danced around with excitement, I stopped and read over the last part. Tristan Ryan, this year’s judge. I was so focused on the name that was written in front of me, I didn’t notice Melinda had stopped dancing around and now stood there looking at me with concern.
“Brooke, what is it?” she asked, just as the little bell above the door rang out.
“It’s nothing, nothing at all,” I said, folding up the paper and shoving it back into the envelope.
