Chapter 5
No—no, no, no, no… This cannot be happening.
This cannot be the first impression I give to a room full of brilliant home bakers I’m supposed to bond with for the next however many weeks.
Not only was I absolutely, definitively not here before seven o’clock, I’ve already managed to body-check one of the production assistants and catapult him across the foyer like a human cannonball, clipboard and all.
Reaching forward, trembling hands clutching the papers I’ve managed to gather, I steady our fallen friend and offer a tentative smile while stealing a quick glance at his lanyard badge.
Joe.
He smiles weakly in return, clearing his throat before turning back toward the now awkwardly silent group of competitors.
“As I was saying, before I was… uh, launched.” Joe clears his throat again. “We have five minutes scheduled for each of your personal introductions. Say whatever you’d like, the only rule is to be yourself. Chloe Park? You’re up first.”
I’m more embarrassed than I’ve ever been. My pulse is basically in my ears and my hands are full of quivering static, but I force myself to look up and see a girl around my age step forward.
She quickly reaches behind her head to release her glossy, pin-straight hair from its bun. Deep, almond-brown eyes meet mine for a brief moment, but she doesn’t smile my way. Just casts her gaze on Joe, who’s leading the way up the wide floating staircase to the second floor.
The entire group moves to the couches in the living room where we wait for our turn to do our introduction. I plaster a friendly smile on my face, nestling on a cushion between two of the most gorgeous women I’ve ever met.
A round of rapid-fire introductions is done for my benefit. I smile, nod, and softly repeat each of their names, committing them immediately to memory.
“It’s so nice to meet all of you,” I say, allowing my gaze to linger on each of their faces. It’s important to me that they each feel seen. “I’m Taylor, and I really want to apologize for being late. I’d like to say that it isn’t like me, but I also believe in being honest.”
That gets a laugh from Jasper, who places a big hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “Don’t worry about it, you didn’t miss anything important. Besides, you got great air on that PA toss. Iconic.”
Heat rushes to my face at the memory of the door smacking into poor Joe. That’s definitely going to leave a mark. I make a mental note to whip him up a batch of apology cookies during our downtime tonight.
“Sure, don’t worry about things like timeliness. That won’t be a problem in a baking competition at all.”
Alex’s voice is sharper than I expect. I keep my smile in place, meeting his gaze and taking him in.
Everything about him screams prestige—expensive-looking shoes, perfectly coiffed brown hair, flawless posture. But it’s his eyes that hold me: icy, piercing blue, aimed right at me like he’s trying to freeze me in place.
If looks could kill, I’d be done for.
Across from me, RaeAnn gives the smallest wince, like she’s trying not to react to Alex’s retort. A small breath of relief slips through me. At least I’m not the only one who recognized that dig for what it was.
A laugh bubbles out of me a moment later, unsure how else to respond. Obviously, I didn’t mean to be late. And even more obviously, I’ll be using an entire army of timers when I bake.
I’m late, not reckless.
“Alex,” Diane chastises in a low voice. “Leave that poor girl alone. She just got here. She did her best, let that be that.”
He doesn’t respond, instead glowering at her out of the corner of his eye and folding his arms across his chest. I don’t understand his hostility.
If I’m late, that doesn’t hurt anybody but me.
“It’s okay, Diane. If Alex wants to be a crabby patty on day one, let him. No amount of grumpiness is going to change the fact that we’re all here! We’re on America’s Next Great Baker!”
Excitement has me bouncing slightly in my seat.
To my right, Lila perks up. “That’s right, girl! Don’t let anybody steal your shine!”
Chloe returns with a small, self-satisfied smile. She must have nailed her introduction. All I need to do is keep myself from rambling too much, and I’ll consider that a win.
Chatter murmurs through the group, side conversations blooming in small clusters. Everyone is polite enough, but there’s a wide variety of personalities on display.
And I can’t help but be drawn back to the dark storm cloud in the corner of the room, tapping his foot impatiently and rolling his eyes. What’s his deal, anyway? There’s no point coming on a show like this if you’re just going to waste your time being a jerk at every turn.
New mental note: avoid Alex if at all possible.
“Taylor,” Joe calls from the stairs. “Last, but absolutely not least. Let’s go.”
I pop up quickly, smoothing my hair back from my face. As I approach, I don’t miss how Joe takes an extra step to the side to give me ample space, as if I might somehow cause him more bodily harm. Can’t say I blame him.
The interview space is way nicer than I ever could have imagined.
At the center of the room is a plush, white loveseat sitting atop a bright, citrusy rug.
The end tables are adorned with ornate, golden cake stands holding stunning pastries and dripping candles.
A warm, sugary vanilla scent swirls through the air.
It's heaven—I want to curl up on that couch with a blanket and never leave.
Joe gestures toward the couch and I take a seat in the center, running my hands over the soft cushions and taking in the lights, cameras, and sound set-up around me.
“Taylor Madden, yes?” A deep voice calls from the shadows across the room, somewhere behind the cameraman. I squint and make out a row of seated figures that I assume are more of the production team.
“Yes, hi, that’s me.” I smile, though it falters when a woman with neon green hair descends on me with makeup brushes and powder.
“Wonderful.”
The voice sounds bored, which makes sense since I’m the last person for introductions and he’s probably said the exact same thing a full dozen times now. “We’re going to keep this short and sweet. Give us your best shot at your name, where you’re from, and why you want to be on the show.”
I nod enthusiastically, repositioning myself, and taking a beat before launching into my introduction.
“You have to wait for us to count you in.” More boredom, this time tinged with annoyance. I breathe a small, nervous laugh. I’m making the best impression today.
“Three… two… one… action!”
I dip my chin and smile wide, training my eyes directly at the camera. “Hi, my name is Taylor Madden and I’m from Cambria, California. I want to be on the show because I love baking. It’s absolutely everything to me.”
The room is silent as I stare, blinking into the camera with that same smile plastered onto my face. I shift my eyes around the room, wondering if they’re waiting for me to say more.
“Was…” The faceless shadow producer’s voice trails off. “Was that it? That’s what you want your first impression to be?”
“I’m sorry, did you want me to do it a different way? I was trying to keep it short and sweet, like you said, focusing on the pieces of information you requested.”
A low sigh.
“Let’s try it one more time. And Taylor? I want you to really shine. Part of the reason we picked you is how you showed your personality in the application. Bring in some of that razzle dazzle, okay?”
A tight ball of nerves has coiled its way into my belly at his correction and redirection. Showing my personality means opening up the possibility that I’ll embarrass myself with all my quirks. But, to heck with it. If they want the real Taylor, they’re going to get the real Taylor.
I’m counted in one more time. I close my eyes and pause for one long exhale to get myself together. When I open them, my smile is genuine and I bite my lower lip quickly before speaking.
“Hey America! My name’s Taylor Madden, from the gorgeous coastal town of Cambria right here in California.
I decided to apply for this competition because baking is more than just ingredients and timing.
It’s love, and intention, and magic. And I believe that winning America’s Next Great Baker is the perfect opportunity to showcase that to everyone sitting at home. ”
“There she is! That’s the Taylor we cast,” the producer’s voice comes to life. I beam in his general direction before seeing Joe at the door, motioning for me to follow him back downstairs.
“Well done, everyone.” He starts as he approaches the group still gathered on the couches.
“We need to get everyone over to the restaurant for dinner. We have the vans coming up the drive right now. Friendly reminder, since some of you seem to have already forgotten, we have cameras and mics in every room of this house. Even when you aren’t mic’d up, we can still get sound.
The network has eyes and ears everywhere. ”
At that moment, we all flick our gazes to different corners of the room—and there they are. Cameras poised to catch every angle. Not a single moment of this season will go unseen.
I smile to myself. Good thing I’m always on my best behavior.
?????????
Much to my delight, the restaurant is absolutely gorgeous. The private room is dimly lit, with flickering candles running down the center of the long, glossy table surrounded by ten chairs. Floor-to-ceiling windows run along the wall, showcasing sparkling city lights beyond.
Totally on par with how my day is going, the seats at the table fill up quickly, leaving me, Alex, and RaeAnn to squeeze together at the far end.
I don’t miss the tick in Alex’s jaw as he sits, unamused that he’s on this side of the table instead of at the other end, where Brandon, Ace, and Jasper are already cracking jokes.