Chapter 9
More from the Guppy Gabber, Monday:
Ed: I want to make sure we’re all totes clear that my brownies did NOT knock Justin over. Total fluke, and not my fault at all.
Ariana: I bet Jen pinched Justin to make him fall. It’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do to move attention away from the competition, on to her. No one paid any attention to Madison, after she worked so hard on those cupcakes.
Braden: Dude, what is wrong with that Ariana girl?
Danielle: Does anyone want this brownie? I’m not eating it.
Landing on the same spot on my butt twice in two days left me wincing. What happened? Justin wouldn’t throw me on the ground on purpose.
He sat doubled over in pain, eyes squeezed shut.
“Are you okay?” I asked, still lying on the deck. Tammy Rae rushed over to see what happened.
“Man, that hurt.” He sat up and reached one hand to me. “Something hit me. A bird?”
Nearby, a small golf ball rolled under Wyatt’s chair. The yellow blur I spotted before I fell.
Danielle pointed. “Hey guys? I think a ball escaped the mini-golf course.”
Tammy Rae addressed the crowd. “We’re going to take a quick break, everyone. Sorry for the delay.”
Following Danielle’s finger, I found an older woman leaning over the railing of the deck above us, waving her club. “Are you okay, son?”
Grabbing the ball, Justin and I moved toward her. “Did you lose something?”
“Oh my heavens! I hit Justin,” the woman said. “I’m so sorry. My friends will never believe I injured their favorite reality star.”
“Not injured. Maybe bruised a little. It’s OK.” He raised the ball. “Catch?”
“Wait! Will you sign the ball for me?”
He flashed his dimples at her. “Sure. Give Janine your room number, and I’ll have someone bring it to you later.”
The woman blew him a kiss and vanished from the railing.
Justin’s smile faded the second she disappeared. He winced, rubbing his shoulder. “Man, that hurts. Can you check it out for me?”
“I thought you were fine?” I asked.
“What was I going to say to a sweet old lady, that she maimed me? It would break her heart. I’m sure I’ll live. But, damn.” He winced.
“Turn around.” Lifting his shirt, I immediate spotted the point of impact–a big red welt on his left shoulder blade. “That’s going to leave a bruise. You should put some ice on it or something.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Janine appeared at our side. “Sorry, Justin, but you have to go to the infirmary and get a doctor to sign off. Legal’s rules.”
He sighed. “Right now? Can’t I finish the competition?”
“No, you can’t, and you really need to go now. We can’t finish the contest as long as you’re standing here.”
“Well, crap. I’m sorry, Jen,” Justin said.
“It’s okay. I’m going with you.”
He cupped my face, gazing deeply into my eyes. My heart fluttered. “Don’t even think about it.”
“You’re wounded. I’m not ditching you.”
“Yes, you are,” he said. “Tammy Rae will be pissed if you leave. You have to finish the competition. Besides, if you leave now, you’ll never get to taste those cupcakes.”
“I could have Ed bring me one?”
“You trust Ed with baked goods?”
“Good point. Thanks.” Popping onto my toes, I kissed him lightly. He pulled me in, sending a thrill down my spine. By the time Tammy Rae cleared her throat behind us, I’d nearly forgotten where we were.
Justin let me go, his ears tinged a bright pink. “Sorry, everyone. I’m headed to get checked out. But, Jen, I think this is a sign not to eat Ed’s brownies.”
Ed moved beside me, the two of us watching Justin’s back move toward the elevators. “Do you think I should go with him? I mean, I didn’t win, right?”
“If this were a doorstop-making competition,” Danielle said, “I’d give you ten out of ten.”
Tammy Rae dismissed Ed, and he trotted off down the deck after my boyfriend. The crowd clapped politely.
The remaining two contestants presented regular desserts of the type I expected when signing up for this deal. Braden created a pie using a chocolate cookie-crumb crust and a chocolate pudding filling, with chocolate-hazelnut spread on the top. It may not have been the fanciest or prettiest dessert I’d ever seen, but it smelled awesome, and all the ingredients tasted good separately. Were we awarding points on what would be easiest to throw together while drunk, Braden would’ve won hands down.
Madison approached the table last, her interpreter speaking as Madison’s hands flew through the air. “This is my grandmother’s recipe. Chocolate cupcakes with a caramelized banana filling and whipped peanut butter frosting. She called it ‘The Elvis. ’ ”
Before Madison finished giving the description, I wanted to snatch the cake from her hand and devour it. I asked Tammy Rae to give me two so I could take one to Justin, but neither lasted more than about five seconds. Madison’s creation was by far the most delicious thing I’d ever eaten. Moist, chocolate cake. Caramelized bananas sounded weird, but added interesting texture and a smoky sweetness. Add in the nutty creaminess of the frosting, and all I wanted was to abandon the coconut cupcake plan and beg Madison to tell us what she’d put in these instead.
Once all the scores were tallied, Tammy Rae read the results. “In fourth place, well, this isn’t much of a surprise. You maim a judge with your creation, you usually don’t win. I learned that lesson on my first episode of Totally ’80s Bake-off, when one of my co-competitors accidentally stabbed a judge in the arm while slicing a lemon meringue pie. We’re still not sure how he managed it.”
The crowd gasped, then nervous titters waved around the deck.
“I’m kidding, guys!” Tammy Rae said. “Well, sort of. The judge was fine. In third place, with a total score of twenty-seven, is Braden with his chocolate-hazelnut pie. Well done, Braden!”
He smiled and waved, while I wondered how much longer I needed to wait before finding Justin. Or if he and Ed would come back once he got an ice pack and some painkillers. They’d probably make him sign another waiver.
“In second place,” Tammy Rae said, “with a total score of thirty-five points, is Tabby Rangoon’s ‘The Basket Case!’ Congratulations, Tabby! The producers have awarded you this bottle of champagne for your efforts. And the winner is Madison from Deaf Teen Mother!”
The crowd erupted, several people leaping to their feet. A flash of confusion crossed Madison’s face, but she broke out into a smile when her interpreter finished signing Tammy Rae’s words.
On the table to my left, I noticed Danielle hadn’t finished her cupcake, and I thought about popping it into my mouth while no one was looking. She caught my gaze, and shook her head, drawing one finger across her throat like a knife.
“I’m serious about my baked goods, girl,” she said. “Don’t try it. I’m saving the rest for later.”
Finally, after a round of pictures with all the winners, Tammy Rae gestured to the table full of cupcakes now starting to droop in the sun. I promptly forgot the baked goods already sitting in my belly and raced for the table.
Halfway there, I tripped. A teddy bear lay on the deck. The same rainbow-colored stuffed animal I’d seen peeking out of the bottom of Madison’s stroller that first day by the elevator. She must have dropped it. My quest for the perfect cupcake would have to wait a minute.
Scanning the deck, I spotted Madison and Ariana headed toward the elevators.
“Madison!” I yelled. The interpreter must not have heard me over the crowd, because neither she nor Madison turned their heads. I tried again, shouting for Ariana instead.
The three women stopped, and I waved the bear over my head. Madison thanked me profusely while Ariana snorted at the ground. Whatever. A moment later, the bear was back in the arms of its rightful owner, and I made it back to the cupcake table before the other guests ate them all.
With a sigh of relief, one cupcake went straight into the plastic container in my bag. Silently, I thanked Justin for going to the infirmary, giving me an excuse to take an extra. Then I found a shaded corner of the deck area and sat down to examine my prize.
The cupcake looked perfectly normal. It didn’t weigh a ton like Ed’s “brownie,” it was the right color for what was supposed to be in it, it wasn’t made primarily from pre-packaged junk food, and it didn’t have a scary eighties movie introduction. Melted frosting ran down one side. Had this been entered in the contest, the presentation put it in a distant second place so far, but the melting wasn’t Tammy Rae’s fault. She hadn’t planned for a mid-contest interruption.
For a moment, panic seized me. What if I hated it, and I’d dragged Justin on this trip for nothing? Left Sarah all alone to prepare the store and watch their mother for no good reason? But the tiny cake looked good, it smelled good, and it won the grand prize on a baking show, so I swallowed my fears and took a bite.
To my surprise, the cupcake delivered fully on its promise. The cake itself was light, chocolatey, and moist. The filling exploded with coconut flavor. The frosting carried a hint of almond or something, and the toasted coconut gave the texture a nice contrast. Had Tammy Rae’s cupcake been in the competition, it would’ve won, hands down. I sat back, patting my stomach with a satisfied smile.
Now I needed to convince Tammy Rae to tell me what she put in it.
* * *
After the bake-off, Tammy Rae stayed on the main deck, handing out cupcakes and posing for pictures with the fans. Although part of me knew I should check on Justin, I stayed, sitting with Danielle on a nearby chaise and waiting for my window to approach Tammy Rae. I’d come here with a purpose. I couldn’t let one Taylor twin down because of the other: Both would be pissed. Besides, maybe some time in the infirmary would help him get over his frustration with being only half of “Jen and Justin.”
Remembering what he’d said earlier made me fume. I wasn’t the one who insisted we share one judge spot. I wasn’t the one who set up the Q&A with pictures of both of us instead of the individual head shots they gave Ariana, Ed, and Rachel. I wasn’t the one who chased him down the driveway, which is what started all the hype in the first place.
I’d been perfectly happy to go home to Seattle, wait for him to get eliminated, and then sit by the phone like a normal person. Or . . . find Ed on Instagram, get him to get contact info from Connor, and then send an email. Whatever.
Now I worried that, after all the Network’s focus on turning us into one pair instead of two individuals, he’d changed his mind about proposing at all. Was that why he hadn’t done it yet? We’d been together almost constantly since Sunday morning, and he hadn’t dropped a single hint.
“Okay, so, I have to admit, those cupcakes are amazing,” Danielle said, interrupting my thoughts. “When you first mentioned this plan, I thought you were nuts, but now I get it.”
“Yeah, they’re awesome. I’m glad. Sarah’s got her heart set on adding this cupcake to our menu.”
“What else?”
The question threw me off-guard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s a reality-show inspired bakery, right? So, what’s my cupcake?”
“Until about three days ago, we’d have called you the arsenic and old lace or possibly the viper,” I said. “Silent, yet deadly.”
She snorted. “I guess I deserve that. And now?”
“I’m not the baker, that’s Sarah. But I’m thinking something like—The Firecracker. Red, white, and blue, possibly. Maybe something with a dash of cayenne pepper. We’ve already got a cake inspired by my friend Birdie, who’s also a redhead, so carrot cake is out for you. But we’ll come up with something.”
“What about you?”
“I’m the all-American girl, at the moment. Sarah’s doing yellow cake with chocolate frosting and cookie dough centers for me. And we’ve got fishbowl-shaped sugar cookies, Pavé de BumBum, which is an Ed-inspired play on the Pavé de Bombom popular in Brazil, plus all the usual bakery stuff,” I said. “Our name is Sweet Reality, so that’s the hook, but we’ve got a lot of old classics. You can walk in and order a regular chocolate chip cookie. It just might be called ‘the Rachel. ’ ”
“Did I hear my name?” My friend approached, carrying a mudslide in one hand and a leftover cupcake in the other. “These things are amazing. What’s in them?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Across the deck, Tammy Rae’s fans finally disbanded. She stood gazing out over the railing. “I’m going in. Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need luck,” Rachel said. “Be your awesome self.”
I smiled gratefully at her as Danielle wished me more traditional luck. The two of them agreed to meet me at the dining room later.
Beyond the railing, the ocean spread in all directions as far as the eye could see. I leaned against the metal barrier, about a foot from Tammy Rae. Close enough to talk, not close enough to look like a stalker.
“Beautiful view,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. “The ocean is so vast. Like, I totally knew water covered huge sections of the earth, but being out here, part of it, with no land anywhere, is totally mind-blowing. Just, the utter vastness of it, you know? It’s, like . . . so vast!”
“It’s awesome,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes. “Like those cupcakes.”
“You mean Madison’s? Those weren’t bad.”
“Madison’s cupcakes were good, and totally deserving of the win, but no, I meant yours. I snagged one off the table after the show.” She looked at me over her sunglasses. “Okay, two.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed them. I’m very proud of my recipe.”
“Totally ’80s Bake-Off was my favorite show last season. I didn’t have a job for a while, so my roommate and I watched reruns almost every day. We were rooting for you from Day 1.”
“Oh, yeah? I’d have thought I was too old for your demographic.”
“My mom’s a huge fan. She listened to your music all the time. It stuck with me.” I started to sing a few bars of one of her big hits before remembering I didn’t want this woman to hate me for butchering her single.
“That’s good to hear. You want me to sign something for your mom? I got more pictures on the table over there. Or you could buy a CD from the gift shop.”
“That would be great,” I said, wondering if anyone still owned CD players outside of old cars. “She’d love it. But I was hoping, you’d be willing to give me a hint as to your secret ingredient. I’m starting a bakery with my roommate–Justin’s sister, actually. The grand opening is in a couple of weeks. She’s a baker, and we’re doing an entire reality-themed shop. We love the concept of your cupcake, but we haven’t managed to recreate it yet.”
The more I talked, the more Tammy Rae’s expression hardened until I suspected a grave error of judgment. Maybe I should’ve taken the picture or bought her dumb CD before asking for a favor, but what did people do with signed pictures? My mom would get a kick out of my stories of going on a cruise with one of her favorite high school celebrities, but did she need a piece of paper with Tammy Rae’s name on it?
Then Tammy Rae spoke, and the problem had nothing to do with my mom or autographs at all. “Let me give you some advice, kid. I’ve been around the block a few times. That’ll serve you much better than my recipe.”
I bristled at her condescending tone. Advice, I did not need. A recipe, that’s what I needed. Plus, kid? A twenty-six-year-old starting her own business is not a “kid.” But in the interests of maintaining a pleasant interaction, I bit my tongue. “Thanks.”
“Never mix business with pleasure. You bought into this bakery, why? Because you’re sleeping with the brother?”
“It’s not like that. Justin and I have been together more than a year. We’re committed to each other.”
She waved one hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re super in love. I saw the show. Where’s the ring?”
Involuntarily, my right hand went to the empty spot on my left ring finger. Tammy Rae’s eagle eyes followed. “That’s what I thought. What happens to the business if you break up?”
“We won’t break up.” The words “I’m getting a ring” teetered on the tip of my tongue, but after the last couple of days, I wondered if Justin reconsidered.
“Famous last words,” she said. “That means you don’t know, right?”
Only my need to establish camaraderie and trust with her allowed me to suppress my desire to tell her to mind her own damn business. “We have a contract. If the relationship between me and Sarah, my partner, goes downhill, she can buy me out. It doesn’t specifically say she can exercise the clause if Justin and I break up, but we both know that’s a possibility.”
“Do you get your full investment back?”
“With five percent interest if she exercises the clause within the first year. After that, there’s a formula. The total depends on how the business is doing. Plus half the profits until she finishes buying me out.”
She looked impressed. “Well done. Who wrote it?”
“Justin, but my best friend back home is also a lawyer. He read it over before I signed.”
“Well, I’ll give you one thing,” Tammy Rae said. “You’re better at business than I expected. How are you at baking?”
“I make a mean chocolate chip cookie, notwithstanding anything people may or may not have seen on YouTube.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I saw your autotune. Don’t sweat it. You entertained the audience, and that’s what an audition video needs to do.”
“Thanks. Sarah’s the baker. I’m helping with marketing, day-today operations, and overall management so she’s free to bake and develop new recipes. That’s why I’m here. Your recipe sounds amazing, but we haven’t been able to duplicate it. The difference has to be your secret ingredient. We thought if maybe I could convince you to tell me what it is—you don’t need to give the proportions, we can figure it out ourselves—”
“What’s in it for me?”
I blinked at her. Sarah and I talked about paying her, of course, but after the direction the conversation took, it seemed odd for Tammy Rae to ask. “We’ll pay you five hundred dollars. There’s cash in my cabin. Also a nondisclosure agreement.”
“That’s it?”
My heart sank. “What do you want for it?”
She rubbed her chin, tapping one long fingernail against her teeth. “Honestly, sweetheart, I’m not sure you’ve got anything to offer me. Money? I’ve got plenty saved. Notoriety? Check. I was the lead singer in an all-girls eighties-hair band. How much more notoriety do I need?”
“Why did you do Totally ’80s Bake-off if you didn’t need the money or the fame?”
She shrugged. “Same reason I came here. I was bored. Will giving you the recipe entertain me?”
I didn’t have the slightest idea how to answer that. “We’re willing to put up a display in the store with the cupcakes, with your name, or a picture. We could sell your CDs if you wanted. You could do a signing at our grand opening.”
Tammy Rae stood, patting me on the shoulder as if I were a small child. “You’re sweet, but I think I’ve gotten all I need from this conversation. Have a good night.”
She sauntered off down the deck, leaving me alone to watch her go. The woman did reality shows because she was bored? And she’d give me her recipe only if I could make life more interesting for her?
I leapt to my feet, yelling at her back. The wind swallowed my words, carrying them out to sea, but it didn’t matter. Determination raised my chin, lifted my spirits. I could do this.
“Challenge accepted!”