Chapter 16
Alex
Ihaven’t seen Emma in the past few days. I decided the best thing to do right now is to give her some space. I know she’s going through a lot, and I’m not sure how to help her. She probably doesn’t even care for my help. For once, I’m trying not to jam my foot in my mouth as far as she’s concerned. It seems like with Emma, everything I do—or don’t do—comes off as the wrong thing.
I didn’t get the chance to tell her I enjoyed her croissants immensely. I still believe she can take it to the next level, but honestly, I’d give her a ten out of ten. That was one of several reasons why I swiped three more croissants before I left her apartment. I’d wandered around, savoring each bite as if it might be my last.
I can’t help but continue to imagine what my life would be like if Emma was in the picture. Would we own a bakery together? Would we travel the world? I’m enjoying the idea of having Emma by my side. Right now, I’m having trouble remembering what it was like pre-Emma. Oh, yes…I spent my days harshly criticizing even the good food. But one pastry chef in a small town I never once imagined setting my roots in has changed me. And I like the change. I see the way people in her life band together just to protect her. She’s well-loved. Granted, I’m well-disliked, but still.
I ended up at the building she wanted. It’s a shame. I can picture Emma running her bakery, ultimately putting Heritage Bakery out of business. But now, I guess Emma will need to figure out another strategy.
I promised myself that before I leave Elmwood Falls for good, I’m going to tell Emma not to give up. She deserves everything she wants in life. However, I’ve seen the passion in her eyes. She loves what she does, I’m willing to bet that I don’t need to tell her to keep moving forward.
For the most part of the last few days, I’ve kept myself close to the inn. Some of the businesses I visited, I was met with cold glares. A few people brushed off the misunderstandings, but I guess the majority formed their opinion of me a long time ago, and because of recent events, they decided to end the niceties.
I suppose it’s all well-deserved, like a pie in my face is the cherry on top of my day.
Today, though I feel like a dark cloud is covering me wherever I go, it’s a nice day. I have decisions to make that will affect the future. I’m still considering withdrawing as a judge. But I can’t do that without talking to Emma about it first. I don’t want her to think I’m manipulating or underestimating her. The conversation needs to be handled delicately.
When a shadow covers me, I look up to see Rhonda’s boyfriend, Philip, standing in front of me.
“Mind if I sit?” he asks.
“Certainly,” I say, closing my laptop.
Philip looks around the park, then at me. “Nice day.”
I nod. “It is.”
“We haven’t had the chance to really talk,” Philip says.
“You’re not one to be considering stoning me, are you?” I ask, half-jokingly.
Philip chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I forgot to bring my stones, so you’re safe.”
“That’s a relief.” I pause for several seconds, then say, “How’s she doing? Emma?”
“She’s good,” Philip says, glancing over at me with amusement in his eyes. “The building she wanted is off the market now. She’s upset about that, but Emma’s Emma. She bounces back pretty quickly. Nothing a little baking won’t cure.”
“It’s a shame,” I tell him. “I know she wanted it badly. I’ve seen her go by there several times simply to admire it.”
“She does that every morning, I think. Rhonda offered to swing for the money,” Philip says. “Pretty much insisted. I actually thought she was the one who bought it, but she wasn’t. Emma’s the kind of person who wants to work hard at earning what she has. I admire her for that.”
I nod in agreement. “I do too. That’s a good trait to have. I’m sorry she’s going through it, though. At least Rhonda seems like a good friend.”
“They’ve been through a lot together. Emma lost her parents in a car accident when she was very young. Her grandmother raised her. Rhonda’s father passed away when she was a teenager. Together, they make each other stronger, even though when Rhonda’s stressed and angry, her go-to relief is shopping.” With a wink, Philip adds, “And it’s usually because of me.”
I laugh. “And I take it that baking is Emma’s stress reliever.”
Philip nods. “It seems to help her see things more clearly. And makes her feel closer to her grandmother. From what I understand, she was very close to her grandmother.”
“Did you know her well?”
Philip shakes his head. “She passed away a few years ago, before I moved to Elmwood Falls.”
“That’s a shame. Seems like I would have liked her. She did well in raising Emma. She’s a good woman and an amazing pastry chef,” I admit.
“Have you told her?” Philip asks pointedly.
I look at him, searching his face. Have I outright told her? I don’t think so. I’ve mentioned she’s got talent and potential, but not that she’s amazing. Why haven’t I?
Philips smiles at me. “When I saw you sitting here, I wanted to see for myself. All Rhonda’s doing is telling Emma you’re not worth the tears. But I wasn’t so sure about that. Every time I see you and Emma together, I’m pretty sure I notice something in your eyes. In both of your eyes. I’m not as shallow as I used to be. I realized recently I need to man up and sacrifice a few things if I’m going to keep Rhonda. She wanted to study art in Paris and I had issues with it. After I put up a fuss, I realized I needed to sacrifice something.”
“You didn’t want to risk losing her, so you didn’t want her to go. That’s understandable,” I say.
“Yes, but that almost made me lose her,” Philip says with a shrug. “Ironic, huh?”
I nod. “Love’s about sacrificing. I’ve never sacrificed anything for anyone. Never wanted to. I’m a food critic and admittingly a cynic. It comes out even when I don’t intend on it.” Like where Emma is concerned.
“And the good in people like Emma and Rhonda makes us question ourselves, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it really d—” I stop short, then look over at Philip. He’s raising a brow. Other than to Lucas, this is the first time I’ve admitted my affections out loud. Though I’m guessing that if Philip, a man I haven’t spoken with too often during my stay here can see it, I’m wondering how many others do. I’ve lived my life guarded with my emotions. I suppose that’s one reason my relationship with Georgia never worked out. “It really does,” I tell him. “But I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve been considering backing out of judging the competition. But I don’t want to do that without talking to Emma first.”
Philip shakes his head. “Don’t.”
“Don’t talk to her?”
“Don’t back out. Man, one thing you should know about Emma, is that she’s determined. A few setbacks won’t keep her down for long. It never has and it never would. Ever since you published your article about Heritage Bakery, she’s been even more determined to prove herself to you. Let her.”
“She doesn’t have anything to prove,” I tell him. “Trust me. I’ve tasted her brownies and I’ve tasted Mrs. Marlow’s. Emma’s the talent. She’s the baker. There’s no getting around that. I think Elmwood Falls is lucky to have her.” I pause, watching as Philip leans down to pick up a stick. He starts batting a rock in the grass. “But because of how I feel for her, and how everything else has been going, I’m concerned that the competition will make things even messier. I don’t think I’ll ever have a chance with her.”
“You’re a smart guy, Alex,” Philip says, dropping the stick to lean over and slap me on the back. “You’ll figure it out. And when you do, make sure you get the girl. She’s not just Rhonda’s friend. She’s mine, too.”
Philips holds out a hand and I take it firmly.
“See you around,” Philip says as he walks away.
I continue sitting there for several minutes before a thought crosses my mind. Of course!
I get out my cell phone and search for the television network’s number. I enter the numbers and go through the steps before I can get to where I need to be.
“Great American Network Judging Panel, this is Trish. How may I assist you today?”
“Hi, Trish. This is Alex Carter. I’m one of the judges for the upcoming competition.”
“Oh, Mr. Carter! We’re absolutely thrilled to have you on board this year. Your expertise will be invaluable.”
“Thank you, Trish. That means a lot. I’m calling because I have a bit of an unusual request.”
“Oh? I’m all ears. What do you need?”
“Well, it’s about the judging process. Traditionally, we judges see everything, including who’s baking what. Correct?”
“That’s right. Visual assessment has always been part of the criteria.”
“Here’s the thing,” I continue, choosing my words carefully, “I’ve gotten to know one of the contestants a bit since I’ve been here in Elmwood Falls. I came to do a series of reviews and didn’t foresee my editor’s request that I prolong my stay in order to act as a judge for the competition.
“You’re acquainted with a contestant?” There’s a note of surprise in her voice, but she sounds more intrigued than alarmed.
“Yes, I am. It’s a small town, and interactions are inevitable. To ensure fairness and maintain impartiality, I had an idea. How would you feel about having the judges, including myself, blindfolded during tasting?”
There’s a moment of silence on the line, long enough for me to regret not rehearsing this conversation beforehand.
“Blindfolded, you say? That’s certainly not something we’ve done before.”
“While I understand it’s a departure from the norm for the Great American Network, blindfolded tasting isn’t unprecedented in culinary competitions. It could bring a fresh twist to your format and spotlight the culinary skills of the contestants even more. More importantly, it would help ensure that the judging is solely based on taste, texture, and creativity, without any biases.”
Trish takes a moment before responding, “Mr. Carter, your integrity is commendable. Let me discuss this with the team. It’s a significant change, but your reasoning is sound. We’ll circle back to you once we’ve had a chance to talk it over.”
“Thank you, Trish. I really appreciate you considering it. This competition means a lot to the contestants. I just want to do right by everyone involved.”
“We appreciate your dedication, Mr. Carter. I’ll be in touch soon. And thanks for bringing this to our attention.”
As we say our goodbyes and the call ends, I’m left staring at my phone, wondering if I just made the biggest mistake of my career or if I’ve somehow managed to do something truly good for once. Only time will tell, but for now, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.