It was at that moment Molly realized she’d have to address Jake Sinclair with a smile and a“Yes, Chef.”When CeCe first suggested it, she’d been super excited to represent the Lime Tree Hill Foundation in the bake-off, but with Jake as a judge, she was now filled with dread.
And later, as Todd pulled back the side flap of the tent to let the audience file into the seating area, Molly wanted to grab her bagand walk away without so much as a backward glance.
“Welcome to the Petrie Park Bake-off in conjunction with the Clifton Falls Wine and Food Festival.” Todd’s booming voice pulled her attention away from Jake. “I’m Todd Hohepa, head lecturer in food technology at the institute and your emcee and judge for the next two days.”
“It’s my pleasure to introduce our other judges. To my right is Jake Sinclair. Jake’s toiled under some of the world’s top patissiers, honing his craft over many years and winning a string of prestigious awards. He recently returned to our shores and opened Petrie Patisserie, which is fast becoming one of the city’s favorite little cake shops.”
As Todd moved on to the second judge, Molly snuck a peek at Jake. He turned slightly and looked her way, and as it had the day at the traffic lights, his attention tripped her up more than a little. But that day, she’d seen him through the uneasy eyes of the past. Today, Molly knew exactly who he was in the present, and she had to admit that after their conversation at the patisserie, followed by the SpinWeb fiasco, she hadn’t warmed to him.
Not one bit.
Todd turned to address the bakers. “Okay, bakers, it’s showtime. Please raise your hand when I say your name.”
One by one, Todd introduced the contestants with a short bio. Nerves coiled tight in Molly’s stomach as he called out her name, but she raised her hand and smiled at the audience as instructed.
“Molly Parker originally comes from the sunny Bay of Plenty. Currently employed by SpinWeb Media as a marketing executive, Molly loves country rock, star gazing, and barefoot beach walks.”
She glanced at Jake for only a split second, but that was long enough to catch his stare. Why was he still watching her?Jerk.
Molly returned her attention to Todd as he finished the introductions, and his voice echoed through the room. “Are you ready, bakers?” he asked. “Turn over your recipe sheets, and let’s get those ovens cranking. Your time starts… now.”
With unsteady hands, Molly flipped over the sheet of paper in front of her and scanned the recipes: cheese scones and a hummingbird cake. Perfect.
She’d baked hummingbird cake several times before—pineapple, bananas, and spices with a flourish of cream cheese frosting and the required passionfruit curd. What could be easier? As for scones, she’d mastered the art of those under her grandma’s tutelage when she was a teenager and had been making them ever since.
But when she looked up and spotted Alexia watching her from the packed area at the back of the tent, arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her artistic face, Molly struggled to recall the instructions she’d read only seconds before.
As the large stopwatch on the wall inched forward, Molly turned on her oven and checked the recipe again, thankful they’d been allocated ninety minutes to complete the two tasks.
Even so, baking in front of an audience was a nerve-racking experience, and when Jake and Todd approached her station a while later and stood watching as she pulped the passionfruit for the curd, her hands shook.
“So, your cakes are in the oven?” Todd asked.
Molly bent down to check the temperature. “Um… not quite. I’m waiting for it to heat up.”
Jake simply nodded, but as they walked away, she overheard him mutter, “She’s going to run out of time.”
As Molly opened the oven and slid her cake layers onto the middle rack, a new sense of purpose arose. She’d never wanted so badly to prove someone wrong in her entire life.
A while later, with her cakes rising nicely in the oven and the dry ingredients sifted into a large bowl for the scones, Jake returned to her station with the other judge—an older woman dressed in cowgirl boots, pearls, and double denim—named Kristy Shapiro.
“How are you making your scones?” The woman’s voice held that distinct plum of a private school girl, and Molly had to bite her tongue to keep herself from saying “the usual way.”
“With frozen butter grated into the dry ingredients, a strong cheddar, and buttermilk.”
“I see. And was that salt you just added?”
“No, just a little sugar.”
“Sugar?”
“Yes. I always add a decent pinch of sugar to my cheese scones. It helps to balance out the flavor.”
Kristy pulled a face as Jake looked on in silence. “Well, I never,” she continued. “Sugar in a savory scone? How very Gen-Z of you, or is it Millennial? It’s so hard to tell these days. Anyway, I look forward to the taste test.”
As Molly glanced at Jake, he pursed his lips, suppressing a smile perhaps. When they talked at the patisserie that day, she hadn’t studied him too closely, but today was different. Now she had time to look, and any similarity to Jesse faded as she saw him as his own person.
A person intent on pissing her off.
