Chapter 18
CARTER
Iwas able to hang out with Shelby, Lila, and Jake for a few minutes before Mrs. Presley swooped in and grabbed me.
Judging was going to start soon, but that would happen behind a curtain apparently, so no one interfered or tried to sway the judges one way or another.
The bake-off was serious business in Ferris apparently.
Mrs. Presley slapped a nametag onto my chest, naming me as Judge Carter.
I didn’t know if Mrs. Presley had specifically left my last name off it, but I appreciated it either way.
People in this town had varying reactions when they found out who I was and who I worked for.
Some didn’t care, some were too polite to tell me what they really thought, and guys like Moe Randall, the pig farmer, had sicced his hogs on me.
Things would be way less complicated if I stayed semi-anonymous.
Before Mrs. Presley took me back behind the privacy curtain to begin judging, she walked me around the rows of tables that formed aisles in the gym. Each row was a different category—pies, cakes, pastries, cookies, and a free-for-all category where bakers could be as creative as they wanted.
Each contestant had split up their entries into portions for the judges to taste and samples for the other guests to try out. Then people would vote on their favorites for the most popular award.
I didn’t taste any of the samples we passed by, but it looked like I was in for a treat when I finally got to judging.
Most of the baked goods on display looked professional, good enough to be served in an upscale patisserie in Los Angeles that catered to the ultra wealthy.
No wonder people in Ferris took the competition so seriously.
The bakers went all out and there was a lot of skill on display.
While Mrs. Presley walked me through everything, I only half listened.
Shelby was walking around the tables with Lila and Jake, tasting samples, talking, and laughing.
From time to time, we caught each other’s eye.
I would smile at her and she would make faces at me, but I was pretty sure it was just to hide her own smile.
I also noticed several townspeople go up and talk to her, and to my relief, none of them seemed angry or shitty. They seemed thankful about the sponsorship, or at the very least, Shelby seemed to stand up straighter after each interaction. Like it lifted her spirits instead of crushing them.
I couldn’t call the sponsorship plan a success just yet, but I did overhear some chatting people talking about the “poor Whitaker kids” who were left to pick up the pieces after their parents ran off. That had to be a good sign.
Finally, Mrs. Presley said it was time for us to head to the back, and as I followed her, I noticed some new arrivals at the entrance. It looked like a camera crew, probably from the local news, although they looked out of place.
But hey, Shelby would get great publicity if the news mentioned Granny’s Acre Farm’s sponsorship of the event. I was feeling pretty proud of myself as I went behind the curtain. I had certainly earned myself some desserts.
The next half hour was an endless stream of deliciousness. Everything tasted like heaven and I had no idea how I was supposed to judge when I loved it all.
My phone buzzed in my pocket but I ignored it.
Nothing was more important than the cake category I was tearing through.
Back in LA, in my real life, I rarely ate sweets of any kind.
For one thing, I liked to stay in shape, but also, I was so busy I rarely had time to indulge in decadent treats like this.
I usually grabbed a quick bite of something and kept plowing through my workday.
Here at the bake-off, I felt like I was making up for lost time, eating all the cake and cookies and everything I had missed out on for the past decade.
But that was kind of Ferris in a nutshell.
Being here, I had experienced so many things my real life was missing.
Little joys and connections that made life worth living.
A voice in my head kept asking a forbidden question. Did I even want to go back to that old life in LA? Obviously, I would go back. But I wasn’t looking forward to it at all. I liked the speed of life in Ferris.
I wondered if there was a way to slow down a bit when I got back. What was the point of having all these employees if I couldn’t delegate some of the workload to them?
I liked working hard and leading by example, but that nonstop work was starting to feel like I was walking someone else’s path.
Chasing someone else’s dream. Ever since my father had forced me to work for Allory, I had stopped asking myself what I wanted and what I actually thought was important in life.
I had money already, a house, two vacation properties, and half a dozen cars I barely had time to drive.
Currently, I was trying to rehabilitate the company’s image, which my father had damaged with his ruthlessness.
That meant I was cleaning up his mess instead of picking my own goals and aiming for them.
The question was what those goals were. What did success look like going forward? After I finished up in Ferris, then what was the next mountain for me to climb? More money? More business deals? Or did I need to start thinking about personal accomplishments?
Did I want to settle down? Get a dog? Have a family?
Trying for that felt more daunting than any contract I had gone after. I had time to date casually, but I was too busy to foster a real connection with a woman, to find someone whose soul harmonized with mine.
Hanging out with Shelby recently had been the most time I had spent with any one woman ever, and even that was for work, not fun. It was fun but that wasn’t technically why I had been helping her out.
Shelby seemed like the kind of woman I could vibe with, but unless I could physically move her entire farm to California, she and I could never have anything long term. It was a hard truth to swallow, even with all these desserts.
Loaded with sugar, we finally concluded all the judging and turned in all our scoring sheets to Mrs. Presley, who would tally it all up with her team. I made my way back to the main area where the crowds were still happily munching on their neighbors’ goodies.
I was looking for Shelby, but the camera crew I had noticed earlier caught my eye.
No wonder they had looked out of place. They weren’t from a local news station.
This was the social media team from the company.
I pulled my phone out to see a missed text telling me they were heading to the bake-off.
Fuckers.
They were supposed to drive into town, check into their motel, and await their marching orders from me. This was not the plan. I had told Brian from PR I would meet with them tomorrow. Either the wires had gotten crossed somewhere along the lines, or Brian had flat out ignored me.
Tonight’s bake-off was not about good press for Allory. I had set up the whole sponsorship idea for Shelby, to start showing Ferris she wasn’t the traitor they thought she was. None of this was supposed to be in front of the cameras.
I was about to march over there and tell them to pack up their shit and stop filming. Shelby hadn’t agreed to be involved in the campaign and I didn’t want her thinking I had gone behind her back to set this up.
Before I could confront the social media team, Mrs. Presley intercepted me and took me up on stage for the announcement of the prizes. It wasn’t just because I was a judge, either. I was announcing the most popular award.
I stood behind Mrs. Presley with the other judges, and she got everyone’s attention.
The social media team was filming all of it, and I wasn’t thrilled about it.
I caught sight of Shelby in the crowd, with Lila and Jake, and it didn’t seem like she had noticed the camera crew yet. I was hoping to keep it that way.
Mrs. Presley announced the winners of the various categories, calling people up on stage to get their trophies.
Because of the sponsorship deal, they were getting a cash prize to go with their trophies.
It was the first time the bake-off had offered money as a prize, and the people of Ferris were loving it, making an already intense competition even more exciting.
Then it was time for the last award, which was going to the most popular dessert overall, based on everyone’s votes. Mrs. Presley handed me the envelope and she introduced me simply as Carter.
Taking the mic from her, I pulled out the name and read it, although I didn’t know the woman who had won, Josie Lang. A little old woman with blue hair hustled up to the stage and held up her trophy in victory.
I clapped for her and then addressed the crowd again. “As you all know, this year’s bake-off is being sponsored by a generous donation from Granny’s Acre Farm, run by Ferris’s own Shelby Whitaker.” There was some clapping, although a few people looked uncomfortable at the mention of her name.
“Because of Shelby’s commitment and loyalty to this town, she has offered a special prize to tonight’s most popular dessert winner. Ten thousand dollars!”
A roar of excitement and surprise ran through the crowd. Ten grand was a lot of money no matter who you were, but in Ferris, it was a small fortune. Tears sprang to Josie’s eyes and she leaned into the microphone to thank Shelby personally. The clapping got louder.
Everyone turned to look at Shelby. The social media team rushed over and shoved a camera in her face, and anger flared in me.
She tried to keep her composure, but I could see she was overwhelmed.
Shelby smiled and waved a little, and as soon as people looked back toward the stage, Shelby slipped away.
I quickly handed the mic to Mrs. Presley. She gave me a knowing look and patted my arm. “Go check on her.”
I didn’t need her encouragement, but I appreciated it nonetheless. Shelby had gone out the exit, and I was hoping to catch up with her. I just hoped she was outside getting some fresh air.
One of the social media team, a kid named Aiden, caught my arm and stopped me. “Mr. Allory, we got some amazing footage. You should see—”
I gently but firmly removed the young guy’s hand from my arm. “We’ll discuss your inability to follow simple instructions later. If you don’t want to be fired on the spot, get out of my way.”
The guy tripped over his feet backing up from me.
I rushed out the doors into the parking lot. A couple of people loitered around the sidewalk, but they weren’t Shelby. Then I saw her sweet caboose, which had been looking amazing all night in the sweater-dress thing she was wearing, as she walked away down one of the rows of parked vehicles.
I sprinted after her, trying not to slip in my leather-soled shoes. Shelby was worth twisting an ankle for, but I would never catch her if I fell.
“Stop,” I called out, loud enough for her to hear me but not loud enough to draw any more attention to her. That had been why she ran in the first place.
She glanced over her shoulder and kept walking. I finally caught up to her at her van, and she whirled on me.
“What the hell were you thinking?” she asked, eyes burning like blue fire. “How could you put my name on everything and spend all that money without even running it by me first?”
I shook my head. “I’m footing the bill for everything.
Don’t worry about that part. I did all of this for you, so that you can actually live in this town again instead of haunting it like a ghost.” I ran my fingers through my hair.
“I did it because it’s the only thing I can do to fix the sins of the past.”
“Why do you even care?” she asked.
The complex tangle of emotions in my head was too complicated to describe, so I just said fuck it and kissed her, hoping it would explain everything.