Chapter Twenty-Three
T hey knew about the kiss.
That was Magda’s first panicked thought when she learned the production had been shut down. But of course they knew. A PA had caught her and Mac in the act. And now, less than twenty-four hours later, the production was suddenly being shut down? Was there any way those two things weren’t related?
Her fear wasn’t exactly assuaged when she begged Julia to know what was going on and the producer said, “Legal has been made aware of a potential for bias in the contest, and we have to wait for them to let us know we’re okay to continue.”
“But we will continue,” Mac said, from where he stood behind Magda in the Proving Room. The production might be shut down, but all of the bakers were still huddled in the space, pleading for answers.
“At this point, we don’t know,” Julia admitted.
Magda exchanged an uneasy glance with Mac. “Is this about—”
Julia cut her off before she could figure out how to even ask that question. “We can’t tell you anything because this is an ongoing legal matter and you may need to be deposed. At this time, all you need to do is go back to the inn and remember the same rules apply—no outside contact, don’t go anywhere.”
“So we’re just stuck here?” Abby asked, angrily.
“Production is still determining how to move forward.”
“Are you considering disqualifying someone?” Magda asked.
Julia met her eyes. “I’m sorry. I really can’t tell you anything.”
Sugar. She’d been scared of being eliminated, scared of this experience ending too soon, but she’d never thought it would be this. The entire production being shut down because she and Mac had kissed.
Except it might not be that. Right? The timing could be a coincidence. Couldn’t it?
They’d crammed in post-bake interviews before judging, but the usual “how do you feel about making it to another week” stuff had all been called off for the night. Perhaps because they wouldn’t all be making it through?
They were bundled into a van en masse and shuttled back to the inn, where no one was ready to go to sleep. For the first time, all of the remaining bakers—Mac and Magda, Leah and Tim, Abby, Eunice and Zain—huddled together in the inn’s common room.
Which meant that Magda couldn’t talk to Mac about the fact that they might have broken Cake-Off with their ill-advised kiss. But she didn’t know what she would have said even if they were free to talk.
“What do you think it is?” Leah asked as they passed around beers—and Magda resisted the urge to look guiltily at Mac.
“Someone who got voted off is bitching about it, threatening a lawsuit,” Tim said with his usual absolute certainty.
“Would they shut down production for that?” Abby asked. “It probably happens twice a season at least.”
Tim glowered around the table. “Was it one of you? The legal threat?”
“Why would we want to shut down the season?” Leah asked incredulously.
“You don’t think they’d actually cancel the season?” Eunice asked, her voice wavering as she sat with both hands wrapped around her cold beer bottle.
“It would have to be really serious,” Abby said. “They’ve invested a lot in us. They have, what? Six episodes in the can? That’s half a season. They’ll want to get us back in the kitchen if there’s any legal way they can.”
“They must have known this morning,” Mac said. “Did you see how they were rushing all day? How the producers seemed stressed and hurried through the confessionals?”
Which would make sense if the legal problem was something that had happened last night in the hallway outside Mac’s room. But would they really shut down production for a kiss? It seemed extreme. She’d much more expected them to try to exploit it than put a stop to it.
“Someone is cheating,” Tim declared, again with his air of stating a fact that only he knew for certain. “They’re getting ready to announce that one of us had a ‘family emergency’ and had to leave the competition.”
Before anyone could react to Tim’s announcement, producers Julia and Greg walked into the common room.
“Oh, good, we have all of you,” Greg said, his expression more businesslike than Magda had ever seen it. “A decision has been made.”
Leah grabbed Magda’s hand, squeezing it tightly, while on her other side Eunice continued to grip her beer bottle like a lifeline.
“Production has decided to send everyone home until this matter can be resolved—” Julia was drowned out by cries of dismay and paused long enough for the room to quiet again. “This does not mean that the season has been canceled. In fact, you should act at all times as if you will be returning to filming as soon as possible.”
“You will be contacted as soon as we have more information,” Greg went on, picking up the thread. “But in the meantime, please remember that all details about this season are still covered by your NDAs. The initial press release announcing the new season went out yesterday afternoon, before we were made aware of the potential legal concern, so you are now all allowed to share that you are on the Archrivals Edition of the Cake-Off , but you may wish to hold off on doing so until this matter is resolved.”
“How long?” Tim demanded. “How long are we just supposed to wait?”
“We don’t know,” Julia said firmly. “We’ll arrange your travel home. And back again, should the season resume. If you’re contacted by legal, please cooperate with the ongoing inquiry.”
“You should pack tonight,” Greg advised. “Flights out are being arranged for tomorrow morning.”
And with that, they left.
The seven remaining bakers stared at one another in a daze.
“Shit,” Leah whispered, after a long moment. “They must be expecting it to take a while, if they think flying us all home at the last minute and back again is going to be cheaper than keeping us here for the duration. This is more than one or two days.”
Abby was the first one to stand up. “I’m going to go pack.” She glanced around the table. “I guess I’ll see you if I see you.”
The group broke up shortly after that. They all had packing to do. Magda gave both Leah and Eunice long hugs, since they didn’t know if they would see one another in the morning—or ever again. They promised to keep in touch—though they weren’t even sure if that was allowed. Did the usual nonfraternization rules apply? How could they if they were all at home? They’d get their phones back. They’d have access to recipe books and the internet. The bubble would officially be broken.
And none of them knew what any of that meant for the future of the competition.
Magda walked upstairs with Eunice and Leah, pausing to hug each of them one more time. Eunice had been fighting tears, and finally started sniffling and darted inside her room.
“They have to bring us back, right?” Leah reassured herself as she paused with her own hand on her doorknob. “They’ve invested too much in us to just scrap the season, haven’t they?”
“Absolutely,” Magda agreed, with more confidence than she felt. Honestly, she was less worried about them tossing out the entire season than she was of being disqualified herself. For almost hitting Mac. For kissing Mac. God, it was always about Mac.
“Magda?”
And there he was. Waiting outside her room as she turned the corner after saying goodbye to Leah.
“Mac.”
She didn’t know what she felt when she looked at him. It wasn’t the same bristling animosity that had built over the last decade, or even the tension of the last two weeks. When she looked at him she just felt overwhelmed.
There was too much going on. Too much uncertainty. Too many feelings. And she couldn’t spare the brain space to figure out what was happening here.
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” he said—and she realized she could probably invite him into her room, if she wanted to. They were about to be sent home. The production couldn’t enforce rules about them not being alone together, even if they wanted to.
But she still didn’t know why they were going home. If there was even the slightest possibility that it was related to the kiss or the not-quite-slap, if there was any chance things might be further complicated by her being alone with Mac, she couldn’t risk it.
At least that was the rationale she gave herself when she said, “I’m fine, we’re fine—but with everything that’s going on right now, I just need some time to think. Okay?”
“Yeah.” He took a step back, even though he hadn’t been blocking her path to the door. “Absolutely.”
She moved toward her room, resisting the urge to ask him if he thought this shutdown was about them—as if by not saying it out loud she wouldn’t validate the ridiculousness of the fear.
“I guess I’ll see you in Pine Hollow,” he said, and she nodded jerkily.
Once he was gone and she was inside her room, she leaned against the door, wondering if she should have invited him in. She didn’t have much to pack, and she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. It would have been good to have someone to talk to—and strangely, Mac was someone she almost… well. Did she trust him? Was that what this was? Only hours ago she’d been in a panic, wondering if the kiss had been strategy on his part, but now that everything had blown up, did it matter?
She needed to act like it did. She needed to act like they were going back, but what if they didn’t? What if the entire season was canceled? She hated not knowing anything.
She’d almost made up her mind to go knock on his door when a knock came at hers.
Magda rushed to open it, her heart in her throat—but it wasn’t Mac standing in the narrow hallway.
A young PA held out her phone to her. “A car will take you to Pine Hollow in the morning if you can be ready by nine,” he said.
“I’ll be ready,” Magda promised, accepting her phone like she was receiving the Holy Grail. She barely resisted the urge to kiss it. Twelve days without contact with her friends and family didn’t sound like much, but it had been several lifetimes in terms of all that had happened.
As soon as the PA was gone, Magda eagerly dug her charger out of her bag and powered up her phone. She would see Mac tomorrow—they were both going back to Pine Hollow and they were both very familiar with carpooling between King Arthur and their hometown. But in the meantime, she desperately needed to talk to Kendall and Charlotte.