Chapter 6 #2
The two men turned to leave with the receptionist. As he left, Lucas cast an eye over his shoulder at Clem – and her insides skittered as if something was malfunctioning inside her. Those darkened green eyes were enough to raise storms in a person. Or perhaps it was the nerves? She couldn’t tell.
Clem followed Sylvie down the long, narrow corridor the receptionist had gestured to, squeezing her squishy cat so hard its belly was flattened. At the far end, a set of huge double doors opened onto a wide room with deep brown carpet patterned with looping cream swirls, like a cinnamon bun.
Clem stared around the room in amazement.
The ceilings seemed infinitely high, painted white with huge squares carved out of the middle, each one containing a glittering chandelier.
There was a stage at the front of the room, and a huge HD screen showing the Whisked Away logo on the display.
And instead of the rows of chairs as you’d expect from a typical conference room, the rest of the space was dotted with makeshift pop-up kitchens, each with gleaming dark marble countertops, shiny silver mixers, and built-in ovens.
The hitch in Clem’s chest this time was definitely nerves. Up by the stage, a group of people were gathered, talking. She recognised one of them as Ronan, the creator of Whisked Away – the light-brown curls fluffed up across his forehead were unmistakable.
‘Wow, this is impressive,’ Sylvie said. ‘They don’t do things by halves, do they?’
‘I’ve never baked anything in such luxury before,’ said Clem. She was pretty sure the drawers on those cabinets wouldn’t squeak like the third one down at home. Or that you’d have to bang the fourth one extra hard to get it to close again.
A young man in a Whisked Away T-shirt approached them moments later with a clipboard in his hand.
‘Hey, guys!’ he said brightly. ‘Could I get your names? We’ll get you over to your assigned kitchen and Ronan will be up on stage to explain everything.’
Sylvie offered him their names, and they were led to a gleaming mini kitchen in the row furthest away from the stage – closest to the door.
Clem exhaled; she was glad to be in this spot, not packed in amongst the others too closely.
Lucas had stepped into the room too, giving Clem more palpitations.
They kicked up a notch when he and his friend Dwayne were assigned the kitchen right beside her and Sylvie.
Nerves about the audition – and the gorgeous man with eyes piercing enough to stop her in her tracks, working right next to her – flooded her.
She’d be dead of heart failure by the end of the day at this rate.
More people filtered in, taking up their positions at kitchens spread around the room.
Two women in their twenties, hair tied back in ponytails, wearing crisp white shirts and striped aprons.
A plump older woman, accompanied by a slightly younger woman in her thirties, both in hot pink.
A couple of older men sporting salt-and-pepper hair and beards.
And more and more, until every kitchen in the room had a set of occupants.
Clem smiled as she caught the eye of the two women in pink; they gave her a thumbs up.
Before long, Ronan was sweeping up onto the stage, a microphone clipped to his Whisked Away T-shirt.
He raised his arms up to welcome them, smiling, his straight white teeth almost blinding.
A hush fell over the gathered group of bakers.
Ronan’s grin widened, a dimple wedging itself in his cheek.
There was some type of clicker in his hand, probably for the screen set up behind him.
Clem’s insides flipped over when he started to speak.
‘Hi, everyone, thanks so much for coming out! We’re super excited to have you with us. Now, if you’ve seen me online, you’ll know me as Ronan’s Real Bakes . . .’
Clem found it hard to focus as Ronan launched into an explanation about how he got into baking, how he became popular online, and how he started Whisked Away .
She knew much of this already. She cast a glance over at the little kitchen beside them.
Lucas ran a hand through his dark hair. When he spotted her looking at him, his expression made her knees feel as weak as a soft sponge cake.
I really can’t let him distract me . She looked away, determined to focus only on what lay ahead, and on managing her nerves.
Ronan was introducing the other judges, clicking over to a fresh slide on the screen for each of them.
There was Viviana Nelson, a bestselling author and baker to celebrities; Clem had seen her on TV.
She had light brown skin and long, sleek dark hair, styled in elegant waves.
Unlike Ronan, who was an explosion of colour, she was all elegance – a killer black-and-cream suit and matching heels.
Next came Laurette Mercier, a woman with smooth, creamy skin who had a baking empire with hundreds of bakeries across the world and her own school in London; Clem wasn’t familiar with her.
Her ash-brown hair was cut to her shoulders, her clothes polished like Viviana’s, but looser-fitting.
And finally, there was Jonathan Hale, who was a social media star like Ronan.
He looked vaguely familiar with his trendy glasses and cheeky smile, so it was possible she’d seen him online once or twice.
‘Now, I’m going to explain the audition process, and what will happen from here if you’re selected.
’ Ronan pushed his clicker, and the screen switched over to a presentation illustrating what he was saying, the text set in the middle.
A group of colourful spring flags and pastel cupcakes bordered the screen.
‘You’ll already know that today, we’d like to see what you can do.
Create one of your specialty bakes, one you can finish within the two-hour time frame.
You can be as creative as you want. We want to get a feel for your style.
All the equipment you’ll need is provided at your baking stations, and there are plenty of ingredients, though we know some of you will have brought your own extras.
‘We’ve got the support team here to address any technical issues if they come up,’ Ronan continued, and he gestured at a cluster of people standing to the side of the stage, who waved enthusiastically.
‘We’ll also be recording the auditions to do a screen test, moving around to get some footage as you go.
’ Ronan pointed to a camera and a couple of staff positioned at the back of the room, in a corner.
‘We might get you to engage with the camera, ask questions as you bake, that kind of thing. It’ll give us a feel for your on-screen presence, and how it might translate onto the show.
Please don’t worry about this! We want you to be totally natural. Be yourselves!’
Clem wasn’t sure how she could possibly be herself whilst being filmed, especially since the camera was so portable and they’d be moving around the room.
She swallowed, trying to bring some moisture to her dry mouth.
She was also wishing she had some lip balm stashed in a pocket.
And she’d left her chewing gum behind – she didn’t want to be chewing excessively in front of people.
Part of her wanted to sprint for the exit right now, rather than face the shiny lens of the camera.
What if she got anxious when they filmed her and made a fool of herself?
What if she did something stupid, and everyone laughed?
With a pang, she was reminded of why she most definitely hadn’t put herself forward for this, why she had decided not to send off the application in the first place.
She gripped the squeezy cat, hard, trying to reframe the thoughts. What if I do everything well?
‘We’ll be observing, and one of the judges will wander around to chat to you,’ explained Ronan.
He clicked the button in his hand, switching over to a screen reading Let’s get baking!
The camera team across the room gave him a thumbs up.
Ronan continued, ‘Finally, we’ll be keeping the doors wedged open for you today, as it’ll likely get quite warm in here when the baking starts. ’
He motioned towards the door, which had been wedged open with a doorstopper. ‘Okay, you can go ahead and start!’