Ava watched as Regan pulled one cake pan out and touched the cake with her fingertips, checking for doneness. When she turned to Ava and grinned, Ava couldn’t help but grin back.
She took a moment to scan the room, something she hadn’t done yet, and now she was curious what the other teams were doing.
Madison had several bowls of colored frosting spread out on her counter.Ah, going for the rainbow, Ava thought. Over at Vienna and Maia’s station, it looked like they were shaping their cake into a curve.And thevery literalrainbow over there.
She crossed the aisle to Regan and they stood looking at the cakes. Seven of them in seven different colors. Bright, vibrant colors, hard to do with cake.
“These look great,” she said and meant it.
“Thanks.” Regan stood with her hands on her hips, slightly shorter than Ava. They both scanned their cakes. “All right. We let ’em cool, and then we get to assembling.” She looked at Ava. “You still good with frosting it?”
Ava nodded. “We can do this. I mean, I’m not a cake decorator, but I think between the two of us, we can make this work.”
“Me too.”
Ava knew they’d nailed the flavor portion of this contest. Hands down. She didn’t even need to know what the others were making. Between their cakes, their compote, and their frosting, their cake was going to taste fucking orgasmic.
Putting it together and making it look pretty was going to be the harder part because, as they’d both mentioned multiple times, neither of them was a cake decorator. The other women were not to be trifled with. Or worse, underestimated. They all came from different backgrounds, and Ava had no idea who knew more or less than she did about cakes.
All they could do was their best.
That’s what her mother would say.
Her father wouldn’t be nearly as optimistic, telling her it should be simple and if she screwed this up, what the hell good was it for her to be a pastry chef. She could almost hear his gruff voice. “It’s a goddamn cake. How hard can it be?”
Eventually, Regan pressed at the center of each cake and determined they were cooled enough for them to assemble.
“Ready?” she asked Ava, eyes bright with clear excitement. She was enjoying this, Ava realized. The spark of competition. The challenge of working with somebody new.
“As I’ll ever be,” Ava said, as Regan started tipping the cakes out of their pans and setting them on wire racks. She held each one with her palm on the bottom.
“They’re all cooled. Let’s do this.”
For the next hour, they worked on trimming and stacking the cakes in order, a thin layer of raspberry compote in between each one. Just a bit. Too much would make the cake soggy and overpower the lemon. Regan trimmed up the top three cakes so they were smaller in diameter than the four on the bottom while Ava spun those bottom four on the turntable and frosted them. The frosting had come out nearly perfect, and it was going on the cakes as smoothly and easily as paint on a wall.
Thank God.
She smoothed it on and added a small dowel in the center to hold the next three layers. They made sure to do the colors in the order of the rainbow, and their frosting stayed white with just a hint of yellow.
Regan spoke in a low voice, close to her ear as they worked. “Looks like the other teams are being super obvious that it’s a gay cake.” She pursed her lips, and Ava knew just from her expression that she was wondering if they should’ve done the same thing.
“I think Liza appreciates subtlety and surprise,” she said, keeping her voice just as low. Their initial design idea—to keep the cake elegant and classy—had been Regan’s. “I think your instincts were right on the money.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
* * *
The cakes were done and on display.
Each team sat quietly, their workstations all cleaned up, utensils and equipment put away. Regan felt very much like they were on an episode ofThe Great British Baking Show, waiting for Paul Hollywood and Pru Leith to come taste and judge their cakes.
They’d had some time to wander around and check out each other’s work. The other two teams had definitely gone overt. Obvious. Vienna and Maia had made a cake in the actual shape of a rainbow—three tiers of it!—and they’d done a great job. Their edges were clean, their frosting piped smoothly in subtle, more pastel shades of the rainbow. Regan was curious to see what kind of cake it was. Paige and Madison also did three tiers, each one frosted in rainbow stripes. Their colors were bolder than Vienna and Maia’s, louder, and their cake definitely screamed gay.
“Oh,” Madison said, drawing the word out so it was long and breathy. “Your cake isso pretty.” It was. She wasn’t wrong. Despite her last-minute misgivings and near panic, Regan was proud of their work. True, the cake was only two tiers—a full tier smaller than the other two—but it was elegant. The ivory-colored frosting was smooth and had a slight shine to it. Ava had done a spectacular job piping the trim, which resembled the seams on a lacy wedding gown. They’d added two bride figurines at the top, which seemed a bit corny until Ava had created a path for them in the frosting. Now? Now it looked like they’d walked to the top of the cake and had taken their place there together.
It was gorgeous, she had to admit.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Ava whispered to her as she sat on the stool next to her and watched Liza walk in, followed, as always, by May.
