Chapter Thirty-Three
M agda was dragging. She didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep— bad idea, such a bad idea —or the fact that Mac was gone— should not matter, but absolutely did —but she was barely able to focus as she went through the motions of getting ready for today’s bake.
The set felt empty with only four of them left, and maybe the producers sensed that, because they didn’t have them gather in the Proving Room until immediately before it was time to go into the kitchen.
Eunice gave her a double thumbs-up of encouragement, and Magda smiled back, attempting to look like she wasn’t about to try to bake her way into the final on only two hours of sleep.
Then they stepped into the kitchen, and Magda wondered if she was hallucinating.
The stations were already occupied—bakers in black aprons standing at each one. Leah. Abby. And Mac.
Magda’s heart began to race. What was happening?
“What’s going on?” Eunice asked quietly.
“I hope you’re ready for a twist, bakers,” Jeffrey Flanders called out dramatically as they approached the front of the kitchen.
The final four were directed to the front of the room, to stand next to the judges and Flanders facing the three black-aproned bakers.
“There will be four bakers in the finale this year… but you may not be the final four. Today, you aren’t here to bake… you’re here to watch. Welcome to the finale of the Redemption Round,” Jeffrey Flanders announced when they were in their places.
Redemption.
“For weeks your eliminated compatriots have been competing for a chance to get back into the competition. Leah has been a force, defeating those who came before her, and now she will face off against the two most recently eliminated bakers in the final bake—after which one baker will earn redemption, a spot back in the competition, and a chance to fight their way into the finale.”
Magda met Mac’s eyes, her heart thundering in her ears. They did this on other cooking shows—she’d seen it on Top Chef , and she was pretty sure MasterChef had done it once or twice, but Cake-Off didn’t bring bakers back. Ever. They hadn’t even done an all-star season, though Magda had frequented the fan sites that constantly called for them to bring back the most beloved bakers.
Finally there was something good in all the awful changes Stephen had brought to the show.
Mac had a chance.
The judges began laying out the parameters, and Magda was as nervous as if she was cooking.
“This won’t be easy, my dears,” Joanie said—one of her most terrifying catchphrases. “Today’s challenge is a classic, and we are looking for bright, fresh flavors—but we will be exacting when it comes to technique.”
“We are looking for nothing short of perfection,” Alexander Clay announced—issuing his most famous catchphrase.
“But this one will be judged blind, so our judges will now excuse themselves…”
Jeffrey Flanders waited until the judges had filed out before turning to the black-aproned bakers with an ominous air. “Today we’d like you to bake for us… a lemon meringue pie.”
The bakers all looked relieved—at least it was something they’d all heard of, something they must have all made before.
“You have one hour—”
The smiles fell off their faces.
“And your time starts… now .”
All three bakers bolted for the pantry, and Magda reminded herself to breathe. It was somehow a million times more stressful to be standing here watching, knowing there was nothing she could do.
Mac raced back, his arms full of ingredients—and a camera was suddenly blocking her view.
“Anyone you’re particularly rooting for to get back into the competition?”
“Is no one an option?” Tim said dryly.
“They’re all such good bakers,” Eunice gushed, “but I’m pulling for my girl Leah.”
“Magda?”
She knew she should be rooting for all her friends equally—Leah had gotten such a bad break, but Magda’s heart was fixated on one station. She shifted to the side so she could see him.
“They’re all so talented,” she murmured, never taking her eyes off Mac.
“I didn’t know.” Mac said the words as soon as they were back in the Proving Room after the challenge, his hand on Magda’s wrist and his voice pitched for her ears alone—though they were both still wired for sound. “I had no idea about the redemption round last night—”
“I didn’t think you would intentionally short yourself sleep if you knew you had to bake today,” Magda assured him.
“ You did.”
Her lips quirked. “Well, yeah, but I’m wild and unpredictable. A rebel.”
His smile was like a secret they shared—until Julia interrupted them.
“Mac, let’s get you into the chair to talk about your pie.”
He gave a little duty-calls grimace and followed the producer through the door, leaving Magda with only the after-warmth of his fingers on her wrist.
Leah and Abby had been whisked away as well, leaving Eunice, Tim, Magda, and Zain waiting around with no bake of their own to discuss.
Magda grabbed a protein bar and sat next to Eunice on one of the couches to wait out this next section. They might still be baking today, and she needed to fuel if she was going to be functional, since she somehow doubted taking a nap on the Proving Room couch was an option.
“How do you feel about this latest twist?” one of the junior producers asked, clearly trying to stoke a discussion and hovering out of the roving camera’s sightlines.
“It’s bullshit,” Tim instantly obliged—though they’d probably have to bleep that if they included it. “They got voted out, fair and square, and now, what? The usual rules don’t apply?”
“I like it,” Eunice dared to argue, though her high voice wavered a little. “I’m glad they’re getting a second chance.”
“You realize this is a one-shot thing,” Tim snapped. “They aren’t going to do it again when you get voted out.”
God, he was such a dick. So much the opposite of the normal Cake-Off contestants, who were always people you wanted to root for in varying degrees. Even the most arrogant contestants were never assholes. And yet, there was Tim.
Magda stared at him, frowning, until he snapped at her.
“What?”
“I’m just wondering how the show is going to make people root for you if you win. Do you suppose you’ll ever speak in the final edit?”
His glower darkened even more, but they were all distracted by a rush of movement. The black-aproned bakers returned, much sooner than usual, and were ushered through the Proving Room and back into the kitchen. Magda stood, ready to follow, but a PA told them to “sit tight right here during judging” and she sank back onto the couch.
She glanced around nervously, but there were no clocks in the Proving Room—like in casinos, it often felt impossible to gauge the passage of time on set—so there was no way to know how long they sat there, waiting.
Eunice reached out, catching her hand, and Magda squeezed it—though she was pretty sure they weren’t silently rooting for the same person.
The single cameraman who had stayed behind to get their reactions got bored of the silence and asked Tim who he wanted back in the competition. He launched into a pompous monologue about who would be easiest for him to beat (Leah), who would be most likely to fold under the pressure of the final (Leah), and who he thought was most likely to have won the lemon meringue pie challenge (anyone but Leah)—and Magda did her best to tune him out.
She knew this didn’t really matter. In the grand scheme of things, whether Mac got back into the competition or not wasn’t going to change the course of her life dramatically. Tim was actually (as much as she hated to admit it) probably right about Leah being easier to beat. But she still wanted Mac to win. She wanted it for him, with an intensity she didn’t want to look at too closely.
And it was killing her not knowing what was going on in the kitchen.
It felt like three lifetimes passed, and then the cameraman suddenly moved, getting in position in front of the door moments before it opened.
Leah came through first, grimacing slightly, shaking her head. Then Abby, whose tight expression gave nothing away.
And then Mac—the only one of the bakers who was no longer wearing a black apron. His was a bright sunshine yellow, and he grinned, spreading his arms. “I’m in.”
Magda squealed. She didn’t think about the cameras, she didn’t think about the others watching, she just leapt up and threw her arms around him. “You did it!”
Mac’s arms closed around her, and he laughed. For a moment it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Then the others were there, congratulating him, even Tim, who seemed to have realized he might not be giving the producers enough non-dickish footage.
Magda fell back, her face flushed, suddenly embarrassed by the fierceness of her reaction. She bumped into Leah, and her happiness diminished by several dozen notches. “Oh, Leah…”
“It’s okay,” Leah said, and Magda wanted to cry all over again.
She hugged her friend, squeezing her tight. “I wish you could have both come back.”
“It really is okay,” Leah said. “I’m glad I got the chance to fight my way back in, even if that bastard had a freaking unbeatable pie.” Magda tried to ignore the flush of irrational pride that Mac had produced an unbeatable pie. Leah must have seen something on her face, because a knowing light sparked in her eyes. “He isn’t so bad.” She gripped Magda’s arms and stared into her eyes. “But you better win this thing, you hear me?”
Magda almost asked if Leah was going to tell Eunice the same thing, but there was something about the ferocity of the words that stopped her. And instead, for the first time, she heard herself saying “I will.”
Leah grinned—and then Eunice was there, and they were all talking and laughing and trying to hold on to these last few minutes with Leah before the producers broke up the party and made them all go sit in the confessional chairs.
Magda sat in her chair—sleep-deprived and buzzing with contact adrenaline. Her defenses were down, which was why Julia’s first statement caught her off-guard.
“That was some hug…”
Magda flushed, feeling like everything they’d done last night must show on her face. Julia must know—though she couldn’t know, could she? They hadn’t been spotted. That they knew of.
“So you and Mac…?” Julia coaxed.
She had to give them something. Magda searched her brain for the right words, honest words, but ones that wouldn’t give too much away. “I really wish Leah could’ve come back too—and Abby. But I was happy to see Mac back in the competition,” she said. “I know we started out as rivals, but this experience… We’re actually… I don’t know, we’re good now. I never expected it, but yeah, maybe we’re not rivals anymore.”
“And what are you?”
“I think we’re friends.” More than friends, but the friends part was there, too—which might be even more surprising than the incendiary chemistry. There had always been heat underneath their arguments, but the friendship was the thing that made her feel a strange sort of wonder. “It’s a Cake-Off miracle.”
The interview didn’t last long. Julia asked her a few more questions and then released her back into the Proving Room. Several of the other bakers were still being debriefed, but Mac was there. Craft services had put out sandwiches, and she approached the table where he’d just picked one up, grabbing one of her own.
“Good to have you back,” she said, unwrapping the sandwich, and fighting the urge to grin at him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Then she looked up at him innocently. “You’re going to be so easy to beat in the final.”
A laugh burst out of him. “Oh yeah?”
“ Oh yeah,” she confirmed.
They’d been trash-talking for years, but this time it felt different. Playful and wicked and fun . His dark eyes were glittering with equal parts heat and humor as they held hers. They still had to get to the final—but it was so close, and somehow that felt more possible than ever.
“Bring it on, cupcake.”