Sylvia—today in a dark-plum blouse and cream slacks—smiled straight at him. “Now, Henry, let’s see what thistoweringbehemoth is. If you can bring it right on up. Do you need a hand?”
Henry waited to see if Tristan would move to help, even though that seemed unlikely. But still, he gave it a few seconds, silently imploring Tristan to move.
Nothing doing though, and a new layer of ice formed in his chest. “If you don’t mind.” With no other choice—this was a massive cake—he left his fate to the crew of production assistants, all dressed in black. It took three of them, but they lifted it and started the slow hike up to the front of the set.
Thankfully, the cake arrived in one piece, and Henry let out a breath he’d been holding the whole time.
Dexter started stalking around the cake. “This is impressive. I think you’ve officially won the prize for tallest cake.”
Henry nodded. With five tiers, itwasapproaching the three-foot mark. It wasreallyclose if you counted the tiny mounds of whipped cream all along the top.
Dexter gently pressed into the side with his middle finger. “Moist, springs back to the touch. Lovely, dark color, how did you do that?”
“Black cocoa powder.”
He nodded slowly. “Nice choice. Offsets the decoration. But let’s see how it tastes.”
Eli cut an excessively thin slice from each tier.I guess to see if they’re all good. I could have hidden Styrofoam in the middle one.He laid them each out on a cutting board rather than a plate, all in a row from bottom to top. All three judges dived on them, going in order from the bottom to the top tier.
Rita broke the silence first. “They’re definitely all the same. Either you made a truly massive amount of batter at once, or you managed to keep uniformity across a number of batches.”
“It’s a familiar enough recipe.”
Rita scraped up a bit of whipped cream and spooned it into her mouth, then popped one of the spiced cherries, chewing carefully before swallowing. “And your flavors work well together. It’s classic, but it’s still different enough to keep me interested, which isn’t that easy when I have to eat six black forest cakes today.”
“Yeah, I enjoyed this,” said Eli. “The black cocoa powder is bitterer than a normal cocoa powder, and that lets you amp up the sugar for the cherries and the whipped cream and everything else. Nicely done.”
“Itisgood.” Dexter picked up what remained of one of the bottom-tier slices and stretched it gently between his fingers until it tore apart. “It’s a good crumb, properly risen, no streaks of egg white. This many tiers in four hours isn’t a sloucher move by any stretch. And it really is beautiful.” He smiled. “Well done. Very well done.”
Sylvia nodded to Henry, smiling broad. “Thank you for a splendid showing.”
He walked back and actually feltgoodabout his chances as they carted his cake back to his station.
That confidence took a minor hit as Finn, Tristan, and Willa went up for their judging. It wasn’t that he thought anylessof his own feedback or accomplishment. No, he’d still made a five-tiered chocolate sponge, and a good one. A different one, according to Rita.
But then Tristan’s was apparently different too, with his sleek presentation and the stewed cherry compote between the layers. Willa’s wasn’t different, but it was “perfectly nostalgic,” whatever that meant for her chances. And Finn’s was impressively decorated, which Henry couldn’t deny—with swirling ropes of whipped cream roses that somehow weren’t losing a bit of their definition, even clinging to the side of the three-tiered cake. The center of each rose was a bright red glacé cherry, and the whole cake was dusted with powdered sugar.
It might not be enough. After all, I haven’t won one, yet.
“I don't know if you can do this.”On cue, at the worst possible moment, the familiar sabotage tightened his stomach around a core of ice.
Soon, they all stood behind their own cakes, waiting for judgment. Tristan was pointedly looking forward, not conversing, not glancing back to Henry. Was this his overblown nerves about the competition, or had Henry done something to earn this cold shoulder? Was he too self-centered to notice some flub?
Sylvia actually broke into light applause as the cameras started rolling. “Youalldeserve that. Judging is getting harder as the weeks go on, but this was far and away the longest deliberation I’ve sat in on. Back and forth, over and over every minute detail.” She held her thumb and middle finger up, pressed together. “The margins were this slim. Everyone tackled our German round with an amazing amount of fervor, and it showed in your final products.”
Oh God.How was Henry supposed to feel? If the competition was that tight, maybe he was in the middle of the pack after all. Or the bottom. God,noone stood out as particularly error-ridden.
This is what I came here for, damn it. Real competition.His gaze darted to Tristan.But I guess there’s even more at stake than my pride. I guess he’s more than a maybe.
Sylvia sighed. “One of you pulled out all the stops and made something trulyausgezeichnet. Sometimes, there’s nothing better than the classics, executed to perfection.”
Perfection. Classics. It’s Willa, it has to be Willa. Again.
Sylvia gestured toward the middle. “Congratulations, Katherine. It was your bienenstich that really pushed you over the edge for the judges. It was tight, but you were a busy bee andbuzzedright past the competition.”
Katherine stepped out from her station, hands to her mouth. Henry wouldn’t have picked her. But that was likely on him more than anyone else. Katherine had proven herself as nothing if not absolutely capable. So when everyone was clapping, he clapped for her... and he actually meant it. She deserved this victory.
But that means I’m still not safe.
