Grayson got an email the next morning that the bake-off was back on. He was surprised to learn that they had already found a new judge and were hurrying along with production.

The police had cleared out of the event center, having found all the evidence they needed. The production company was calling all the contestants back in. He blinked his eyes groggily, staring at the information on his phone. It was still so early in the morning. He'd spent all night making love to Donika and watching movies in bed.

He hurried down the stairs to start making coffee. As he poured his first cup of the day, Donika came padding down the stairs, wearing his shirt and slippers. She looked so cute with her long black hair tumbling down her shoulders. He poured her a cup, and she took it gratefully. She drew a long sip as they stood next to the window, watching the sunrise.

Faint pink light eked out over the late winter landscape. His heart bloomed with warmth as he looked at her. Soon, he knew, spring would come. All the flowers would bloom across Fate Valley. He wanted to be with Donika when it was green and bright and warm. Donika had come at the darkest time of year and the darkest time of her life. He hoped her world would brighten with the changing seasons.

“You aren’t going to believe this, but the bake-off is back on today.”

“Already?”

“They flew in a new judge last night. The production company said they’re losing money, and they need to get the show on the road.

“Are you ready? We stayed up so late last night.”

“I get up early every day,” he said, taking another sip of coffee. “I should be fine.”

Donika went upstairs and threw on her clothes from the day before and came back downstairs to tell Grayson she had ordered a cab.

“I'm just going to run back to the house and change. I'll be at the bake-off to cheer you on.”

“Thank you, babe,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her affectionately. “Your support means everything to me.”

Her phone buzzed with a message, and she looked down at it.

“That’s the cab now,” she said.

“I'll see you soon.”

She slipped out the door, and he watched her climb into the taxi. He was worried about letting her out of his sight. He couldn't help but think she might be in danger. But there was so little to go on, and the police hadn’t thought much of her fears. It was up to him to protect her.

He looked down at his watch and realized he only had forty-five minutes to make it to the event center for sound check. All the contestants were supposed to arrive at 5 AM on the nose. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and hurried up to his bathroom to wash and change.

As he pulled on his boots, he checked the time. He only had a few minutes to make it there. He growled, feeling tired. He didn’t regret his night with Donika, but he had stayed up rather late and was groggy.

He parked at the event center as the sky filled with light. The other contestants were filtering toward the back door. He went inside and joined the rest of the contestants for their pre-show briefing.

“Now that everyone is here,” the producer said, giving Grayson a pointed look, “I can tell you how the show is going to go from now on. Since we are behind schedule, we are going to eliminate three bakers in this round. It will make the show more interesting, and we will only have two shows left to record.

“The final show will be between the four bakers left. Does everyone understand?”

“Yes,” they all said in unison, shaking their heads.

Grayson yawned, feeling exhausted. He hadn't expected to bake today. He could kick himself for staying up so late. But if he lost, that was that. His time with Donika was more important than winning the show. It was more important than anything. Still, he wanted to win. That million dollars would go a long way to opening his factory in the warehouse next door and helping Donika with her lawsuit.

The contestants were called backstage to prepare for the show while the audience arrived. He looked out the door to see if he could find Donika. Security had been expanded a hundredfold, and each audience member was patted down and sent through multiple rounds of metal detection before they were allowed inside.

He finally saw Donika walking into the event center with her hair brushed up in a messy bun and her face fresh and open. She yawned as she sat down. He knew how she felt. He'd had five cups of coffee himself just to try to wake up. They had talked and snuggled all night between movies and pieces of cake, learning everything there was to learn about each other. It was a memory he would hold onto for the rest of his life.

“Contestants, it's time to take your places,” a producer told them.

Grayson took his place at his station. The announcer took his spot at the front of the stage as the judges walked out and sat at the judging table.

“Welcome back to the Great American Bake-off, everyone. In our last episode, we experienced the most tragic incident in our show’s history. Our judge, Heathcliff York, was shot and killed.

“Since the show must go on, we’ve brought in a new judge. Let me introduce you to who will be taking his place. Celine LeBlanc is a renowned pastry chef, all the way from Paris, France. She has been kind enough to grace us with her presence for the rest of the show.”

“You know, Brian,” Celine said to the announcer. “I love this show, and when I heard that you needed a new judge, I was, of course, devastated that Heathcliff was shot. But I knew I needed to come and lend a hand.”

“And we sure are glad that you did, Celine. Let the baking begin!

“Bakers, your challenge for today is to bake a torte of your choice. Since there was no winner in the last round, everyone will have the same amount of time in the pantry. Make sure you get all the ingredients you need for your torte. Get ready to run.”

He counted down and when he hit one, the bakers scrambled through the kitchen and stormed into the pantry. Grayson gripped his basket. He pulled ingredients off the shelves as fast as he could. His mind reeled, thinking of a torte. It wasn't something he baked in his shop every day. He had to search his mind for the right recipe.

He wanted to make a walnut torte. But as he grabbed for walnuts, Charlotte grabbed them first. Instead, he grabbed the pecans and shoved them in his basket. The flavor of pecans was sweeter. He frowned as he came out of the pantry and set his ingredients on the counter. His pie had been pecans, and he didn’t want the judges to think that’s all he had to offer.

“You will have sixty minutes to complete your recipes, bakers,” the announcer said.

Grayson began mixing his torte batter furiously. Tortes were cakes cut into multiple layers. Each thin layer was separated by a layer of frosting. It would have to be baked to perfection. He feared there wouldn’t be time for the cake to cool before they were filled with frosting.

First, he mixed his batter for the cake and put it in two baking pans for a four-layer torte. Then he began to mix his frosting. He looked around the kitchen and everyone else was madly mixing their recipes. He whipped up his frosting with a blender and checked his cakes. They were done baking, so he pulled them out.

Time was ticking down and sweat dripped down his brow. He left his cakes to cool as he continued to whip his frosting. He put the pecans on the stove in their sugar mixture. As he began to cut the cakes, he was concentrating so heavily on cutting and layering his torte that he left the pecans on the stove.

He sniffed the air and looked at his pot with horror. His pecans had started to burn. He pulled the pan off the heat and grimaced at the ruined mass. He had used all the pecans in the mixture, and now his torte would have to go without. He smacked his palm to his forehead, feeling like a fool. He had left it on for only a few seconds too long and they’d burned.

“Is there a problem?” the announcer said, bringing the camera over to Grayson's station.

“I burned my nuts,” he said with a growl.

“So you did,” the announcer said as the camera zoomed in on his ruined pecans.

“What are you going to do?”

“I guess I'm going to have to serve my torte without them.”

“That's a risky move.”

“I know,” Grayson said. “But I can't very well serve burned nuts.”

“These tough decisions are exactly what the Great American Bake-off is all about,” the announcer said, moving on to bother the next contestant.

Grayson had his torte layered and frosted before the timer buzzed.

“Bakers, time’s up,” the announcer said.

Grayson stood with his hands behind his back and his teeth clenched. He looked out at the crowd and found Donika there, looking up at him with worry in her eyes.

“We will now begin serving the tortes.”

Grayson cut pieces of his torte for all the judges and brought them to the front of the room for the judges to taste.

“The texture is delicious, and I love the flavor of your frosting. But it seems like something's missing,” Odessa Carver said.

“It was supposed to have pecans,” Grayson said. “But they burned.”

“I can tell. The recipe just doesn't seem complete. Other than that, it's pleasant,” said Vanessa Basset.

“I agree, I would've appreciated the crunch of the pecans,” said Wayne Brown.

“I like your cake. And the buttery flavor of your frosting is excellent. But I have to agree with the other judges,” said Celine LeBlanc.

“Thank you,” Grayson said, taking his place back at his station.

He knew he was in trouble. It was a big mistake. But a bigger mistake would have been putting the burned nuts into the recipe. He waited for the other contestants to have their cakes judged.

“We've reached our decision,” Becky Barker said. “When I call your name please step forward.”

Grayson heard five other names, and then his own. His heart dropped as he stepped forward.

“You have all been judged to be on the bottom or the top tonight.”

Grayson clenched his teeth, sweat trickling down his temples. He'd really screwed up, and now his dreams were going to be over.

“Henry Digs, your torte lacked flavor. It was undercooked and uninteresting. Pauline Miller, your torte was overcooked and too sweet. Grayson Baxter, your torte was missing an important ingredient. It lacked that special something. Diana Collins, your torte was sloppy, soggy, and undercooked. The flavor made most of us gag.”

“Henry Digs, Pauline Miller, and Diana Collins, please hang up your chef’s coats and leave the kitchen.”

Grayson breathed a huge sigh of relief as the other bakers hung up their coats and left the stage.

“Grayson, it was a close call. But you are safe for this round and will be entering the finals.”

He let out a huge sigh of relief and a smile crossed his face. The audience applauded their hometown hero. He spotted Donika smiling and clapping in the crowd. He joined the other finalists as the camera swept over the contestants and the crowd and the announcer closed the show.