Chapter 23 #2
“Overall,” Garrett adds with a rare, genuine smile. “The standard was exceptionally high. You should be proud of yourselves.”
Beside me, Taylor shifts her weight. Our pinkies brush for half a second. I don’t know if she means to do it, or if her body subconsciously reaches for me like mind does to her.
I want to grab her hand, but I hold back.
“The first baker advancing to the finale is…”
The pause stretches, long enough to make my pulse pound. No one breathes.
With four of us left and three spots available, the odds feel better than they have all season. But for one of us, this is the end.
And we’re so close it almost hurts.
“…Diane.”
Diane gasps, both hands flying to her mouth before she breaks into applause along with the rest of us. She laughs through tears as Magnolia pulls her into a hug, Garrett shaking her hand with pride.
I clap with everyone else, smiling as she wipes at her face.
But my chest tightens anyway.
That leaves three of us.
Garrett and Magnolia exchange a long look. She gives the smallest nod, and he looks down at his card again.
“The second baker joining Diane in the finale is…”
Another dramatic pause. My heart is already hammering.
“…Alex.”
For a second, I don’t move. I just stare at him, like maybe I heard it wrong. Then the tent explodes into applause and relief hits all at once. I didn’t feel certain today—none of us did—but hearing it out loud loosens the knot in my chest.
Diane wraps an arm around my shoulders, and Judy claps me on the back. I manage an awkward laugh as the judges step forward, shaking my hand.
But my eyes are already searching.
Taylor is beaming.
Her eyes are bright, a little glassy, but there’s something genuine in her expression—like she’s truly happy for me.
“Congrats,” she mouths.
This isn’t how I wanted this to happen because now it’s down to just her and Brandon for the final spot.
My heart drops as I take in Taylor’s defeated stance. It’s subtle, but I know her better than anyone else. She’s already preparing for the worst.
When they step forward, the space between us feels larger than it should, even though she’s only a few steps away.
She glances at me and I give her what I hope is a reassuring nod. Inside, everything twists tight. Brandon is a professional. Everyone knows it. We run in the same circles. He knows my family, for God’s sake.
His bakes have been flawless all season, and there’s no world where that doesn’t matter.
The judges turn to Taylor first.
“Taylor,” Garrett begins gently. “Your showstopper today was incredibly creative.”
She nods once, fidgeting with the tie on her apron.
“The flavor combination of peach and basil was unexpected, but it worked beautifully,” Magnolia adds. “The filling was balanced, and the sweetness wasn’t overpowering.”
“However, your lamination was slightly uneven in places, which gave us a few dense layers in the center.” Garrett interjects, eyeing Magnolia.
Taylor nods again.
“Overall, though,” Magnolia says, raising her voice and arching an eyebrow at Garrett. “A delicious bake. Very impressive for this stage of the competition.”
I let out a slow breath I didn’t realize I was holding, relief loosening in my chest as I watch Taylor take in their words. Her expression gives nothing away.
That was good—not perfect, but good.
Hopefully good enough to stay one more week.
Then the judges turn to Brandon.
“Brandon,” Garrett starts, lifting his pastry with obvious admiration, he takes another bite and chews slowly. “Technically speaking, this is one of the most impressive bakes we’ve seen all season.”
My stomach drops.
Taylor’s shoulders dip slightly, but she holds her head high. There’s a slight quiver of her lower lip, imperceptible to anyone not watching her as closely as I am.
“The lamination is textbook,” Magnolia agrees, but her voice lacks its usual warmth. “Perfect layers, crisp exterior, beautiful rise.”
Brandon gives a small, confident nod.
“The flavor is excellent,” Garrett adds. “Your orange crème filling is silky smooth. A real accomplishment.”
Beside me, Diane mutters, “Wow.”
“But Brandon…”
Garrett sets the pastry down carefully, his tone shifting—and my head snaps up.
“There’s a real problem here.”
Brandon frowns at the judges. “Sorry?”
Magnolia steps forward, gesturing to the pastry. “The challenge specifically required a laminated pastry that incorporated a fruit component into the pastry structure itself.”
Brandon’s brow furrows, still not understanding
“You used orange extract in the filling. That isn’t the same as a baked fruit component.”
A thick blanket of silence drops over the tent.
Brandon straightens. “But the bake itself was perfect.”
“No one is disputing that. Technically, it was exceptional.” Garrett says matter-of-factly.
Brandon folds his arms, waiting for the judges to go on.
“That being said, the instructions were very clear. The fruit element needed to be incorporated as an actual fruit inclusion, not just a flavor.”
The way Garrett says the words and glowers over his shoulder at Magnolia, it’s clear the decision wasn’t unanimous.
“Wait—are you serious?”
My eyes snap to Taylor.
She’s completely still. Watching. Processing.
“Because that requirement wasn’t met,” Magnolia’s voice comes out steady, “you didn’t fully complete the challenge.”
Brandon stares at the table, disbelief clouding his features before he speaks, “So what does that mean?”
There’s a tense moment where Garrett holds Magnolia’s gaze. Finally, he exhales and delivers the final blow.
“It means that despite the quality of your bake, we can’t advance you to the finale.”
For a second, no one moves. Then it hits—holy shit.
My hands fly to my face, holding back the reaction that wants to explode out of me.
Taylor just made the finale.
“Taylor,” Magnolia says, smiling. “Congratulations, you are advancing to the finale.”
Her mouth falls open, gaze bouncing around to all of our faces with a manic glint flaring behind her eyes.
“What?”
It breaks out of her in a sharp, disbelieving laugh before she dissolves into tears. And something in my chest cracks wide open watching her.
I cross the distance between us before I even think about it, pulling Taylor into my arms, whispering my congratulations, and twirling her around.
The cameras are watching, but I couldn’t care less.
Let them see.
Taylor making it to the finale is all that matters.
When I set her back on her feet, her glassy eyes find mine. Our chests are still heaving, but we’re laughing into the space between us, breathless and a little unsteady.
I cock an eyebrow, a silent question.
She nods once.
And then I kiss her.
Watermelon lip gloss and something unmistakably Taylor flood my senses.
Somewhere behind us, there’s applause, laughter, and a few soft, knowing awws, but it all blurs into the background, reduced to the way her fingers clutch the front of my apron and the breathless laugh she lets out against my mouth.
For one perfect moment, nothing else exists.
Next week, one of us is going to win this whole damn thing. And for the first time since I walked into this tent, I’m not sure which outcome scares me more.