Chapter Ten
T he next morning, Magda put on her bedazzled “Not Here to Make Friends” apron—even though she wouldn’t be allowed to wear it on camera since it wasn’t the official Cake-Off apron—and faced herself in the bathroom mirror.
“You’re a killer,” she told her reflection—which still looked like her usual too-nice-for-her-own-good reflection. “No more playing nice.”
An hour later, after hair and makeup touch-ups, she sat down in her confessional chair.
Julia’s face flashed with vivid relief. “Oh, good. You’re here.”
“Am I late?” Magda asked.
“No, no. You’re perfect. How are you feeling?”
She could have said nervous or excited or played the part, but she went for honesty instead. “Angry.”
Julia nodded. “That’s fair.”
And Magda realized it wasn’t just Mac she was angry at. “You lied to us. We’ve all wanted this so long, and you made it about shock value.”
“I know,” Julia said immediately. “I’m sorry.”
“All that stuff about fairness, about no advantages in the competition—did you really think half of us being blindsided on national television wasn’t a disadvantage?”
“The standards and practices department ensures fairness, but they deem the producers withholding or revealing information not pertaining directly to the challenges as legally valid—” Julia broke off, as if sensing Magda wasn’t buying the legal mumbo-jumbo. “Look, this wasn’t how I would’ve… There’s a new showrunner. I’ll do whatever I can to protect you, but he’s going to be throwing things at you—both on and off camera. It’s his MO. So you need to be ready.”
Magda nodded, an eerie peace that was somehow both enraged and utterly calm settling over her. “Okay.”
“So.” Julia shifted in her director’s chair, settling back into friendly producer mode. “Are you excited about Pastry Week?”
Mac was so screwed.
They’d started the day with a classic Skills Challenge, back in the standard Cake-Off format. The winner of that first challenge always had an advantage in the big Elimination Challenge that decided the winner and loser of the episode. Or in this case, a disadvantage to give to another player…
“And the winner of the Skills Challenge, who will have the power to sabotage a player of their choice in the upcoming Elimination Challenge, is…” Jeffrey Flanders paused for dramatic effect—as if they didn’t all already know who had won.
Magda had been a different person today. Utterly confident. Calm and poised. And absolutely dominating . That kind of blatant display of skill would have been sexy as hell if it hadn’t also meant Mac was probably about to be sabotaged.
One of the judges had actually moaned after tasting her croissant. Another had used the word flawless . It was just a croissant. It should not have induced moaning, but apparently it was hard to argue with perfection.
The challenge had been two dozen identical croissants and fresh jam to go with them—and croissants, Mac had learned today, were an absolute bitch to make. Involving chilling and laminating and hours of preparation. They’d actually taken a lunch break in the middle of the challenge, it was so long.
Mac’s croissants hadn’t been terrible—solidly middle of the pack, which had felt like a minor miracle. But that wasn’t going to save him if Jeffrey Flanders said…
“Magda!”
Yep. Totally screwed.
Mac fought to keep his face blank as Magda was invited up to receive handshakes and stand next to the judges for this next part. Her face was flushed with pleasure, and he actually felt a little lurch of happiness for her. Just a small one though, since she was about to screw him over.
“Now, Magda, as winner of the Skills Challenge,” Flanders said, repeating himself in a way that made Mac think they were planning to put a commercial break in there, “have you thought about who you might want to sabotage in the upcoming Elimination Challenge, after which another baker will be going home?”
Sabotage had never been part of Cake-Off before, but welcome to the Archrivals Edition, boys and girls. And Mac was about to be the first to experience this delightful little twist. He’d be ice-skating in hell before Magda passed up the chance to take him down.
“I have.” Magda, to Mac’s surprise, wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she gazed right back at Flanders—as if her mind was made up, perhaps? She didn’t even need to look to know what she was going to do?
Right now, Mac was just wondering how bad the disadvantage he was going to have to deal with was.
“This is your chance to take out your biggest competition… or anyone else you might want to see leave the competition.”
There was a camera getting a close-up of Mac’s face right now. He was sure of it. They were really milking the drama, but he wasn’t sure how this was supposed to be suspenseful. Everyone in the room knew what was about to happen.
He hadn’t had a chance to speak with Magda since that disastrous van ride yesterday, when he’d practically invited her to sabotage him.
“So who would you like to sabotage in the upcoming Elimination Challenge?”
Magda looked around the room and Mac was already practicing his resigned determination face when she took a deep breath and said—
“Tim.”
Wait. What?
“What?” Tim himself yelped.
“And what brought you to that decision?” Flanders asked. The host looked vaguely nonplussed by the choice—like he’d been hoping she would pick Mac.
“He’s a tough competitor,” she said, her expression incredibly neutral.
“So all strategic.”
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded.
It could have been strategic. Tim was good—but he hadn’t been in the top three in the Skills Challenge. Neither had Mac, though. He’d been off his game today. He hadn’t slept well, replaying the conversation with Magda, feeling guilty for his part in deceiving her, and wondering if this was only going to make things worse between them, rather than bury the hatchet as he’d originally planned.
But maybe she wasn’t mad at him after all. Maybe she’d seen that he was doing this at least in part for her.
He still wasn’t sure why she’d picked Tim—until he realized she wasn’t looking at Tim, but at Tim’s rival, Leah. Were they forming alliances? It had never happened before on Cake-Off , but the producers would probably love it.
“All right, Tim. If you’d like to move to the side.”
Tim moved to his mark, glaring daggers at Magda—she’d definitely made an enemy there.
Jeffrey Flanders turned back to Magda. “And now, please pick one more player you’d like to sabotage.”
A gasp rippled through the room.
“Um…” Magda’s gaze flicked around the room, before she finally landed on the dad of the father-son rivalry. “Javi.”
He’d been near the bottom consistently, so it couldn’t be about strategy—was it about her friend Josh? She’d had two chances, and she’d spared Mac both times. That had to mean something…
Javi moved to stand beside Tim.
“And now,” Flanders intoned, looking unimpressed by her choices, “please pick one final player to sabotage.”
This time Magda’s gaze went straight to him. Their eyes met and his stomach dropped.
Shit.
So much for burying the hatchet.
Magda told herself she shouldn’t feel guilty as she stood in the inn’s practice kitchen that night and tried to focus on her choux pastry.
That was the penalty for those who’d been sabotaged—no advance notice of what the Elimination Challenge was (an éclair tower at least thirty inches high) and no practice time in the kitchen tonight. Though Magda had a feeling that might have been as much about the fact that there was limited time and space to fit in the practice bakes tonight as it was about messing with their minds. As it was, Magda was practically bumping elbows with Leah and Abby as they all worked feverishly.
No recipes allowed, but they could all make éclairs in their sleep—and if Mac couldn’t… Well, that was how the game was played.
He would have done the same to her.
They were even now. He’d put her at a disadvantage on the first day, and she’d returned the favor on the second.
And she felt like crap.
She should be feeling amazing. She’d come in first!
Her croissants had been flawless , thank you very much. And Alexander Clay had shaken her hand. She should feel incredible!
Today had been the first day that Cake-Off had actually felt like Cake-Off. They’d had their first blind-judged Skills Challenge. Typically the Cake-Off staple opened every episode, but apparently the producers had felt that pitting the rivals against one another on the first episode was more important than keeping to their usual structure. But today, with thirteen bakers left, there hadn’t been any rivalry nonsense. Just baking.
Until the sabotage bit.
She really shouldn’t feel guilty. It wasn’t like she could have chosen not to sabotage someone. Or three someones, as it turned out. The competition had rules. She had just been playing the game.
So why did she feel so wretched? When they’d called her name she had felt a brief flash of triumph—but it had only lasted a fraction of a second before it had been tainted by the realization that she had to do something ugly to another baker. That was who she had to be on national television.
A Skills Challenge win wasn’t as big as being named the winner of an entire episode, but it should have been an incredible moment—something she’d dreamed of, proving she belonged in this competition—and instead she felt sick when she thought back on it.
She wanted to call Kendall and Charlotte. To tell them about the Archrivals Edition and beg for their advice—but the producers still had her cellphone under lock and key.
Which also meant she couldn’t text Mac.
Even if she wanted to apologize, she had no idea which room was his, and the second she asked a PA, there would be a camera crew wanting to record the moment. The thought of it made her skin crawl.
Baking in front of the cameras was one thing. All this emotional exposure was something else entirely. She liked Julia, but it was hard to trust the producer—especially when she kept prodding Magda to talk about the feud.
Even the people of Pine Hollow didn’t really know what had started it all, and the absolute last thing Magda wanted to do was talk to Mac about it in front of the entire television world. But it also didn’t feel quite right, targeting him.
He would have done the same to her. She kept telling herself that. But when she thought about her parents watching the show, her friends and all of Pine Hollow watching, the glory of her perfect croissant got lost in worrying that they were all going to be disappointed in her.
Yes, they’d been feuding for years. And yes, the townspeople got a kick out of choosing sides. Some industrious local had even started selling Team Mac and Team Magda T-shirts. But this felt like it was bigger than that. They both had a chance to compete on a national level, and it felt a little wrong to be sabotaging one of her neighbors—even if it was one she hated.
Except it had never been as simple as just hating him.
If part of her hadn’t wanted his respect so badly, she never would have been so ugly to him. It was the stupid hurt she could never get over that fueled her anger. But it had never felt so wrong as it did now. And it was memories, as much as regret, clogging up her thoughts as she burned her second batch of éclairs.