As soon as Courtney said the words I pulled off the cloth that covered the ingredients and stared at them. Flour, butter, eggs, the makings of pastry cream, and I knew what a croquembouche looked like. But choux pastry was my nemesis, and I had to take two very deep breaths and then count back from twenty as I pretended to check the recipe if you could even call a list of ingredients a recipe. There was no method, no suggested oven temperature, no timings and my mind was a blank. I could hear sounds from Brody behind me, water running, saucepans clattering, and I knew in my bones that this was something he would do brilliantly. A casual glance behind me as I pulled out a saucepan to boil the water, I saw Clare already confidently swishing and moving and generally looking efficient. So it was just me.
And when the judges got to taste all three, including mine in the middle that was a little crooked, with only half a sugar spun cage, I knew I’d come up short. I was in last place, Clare in second and yet again, Brody was first. Unless he messed up the wedding cake in the morning then he was going through to the final, but for me and Clare, it was going to go down to the wire.
I hugged him and congratulated him as soon as we got outside and away from the cameras, and he seemed embarrassed at the praise.
“I only just did a croquembouche for the last wedding, so I had an unfair advantage.”
“No,” I said quickly and kissed him hard. “You’re a freaking genius, and I’m so proud of you.” He blushed and scuffed his foot like a kid getting a good report, and I tilted his chin. “You can win this,” I told him.
I know I was quiet as we walked back to the hotel, and Brody didn’t push me to talk, just took my hand and tugged me off the main path so we could walk in peace and all too soon we found ourselves in front of Jeremy.
“I don’t want to go home,” I told Jeremy as I straightened his scarf. “I want to stay in the competition with your other dad.” Brody let me talk to the inanimate pile of snow as we patched up holes with ice and leaves. It was my way of explaining how I felt without having to face Brody and see the compassion in him that might be my undoing.
“You will,” he said after a short break. “I know you’ll be in the final.”
“With you.”
“Together.”
The snow was heavy overnight as an icy late October gripped Banff, and the flurries of snow were icy against any exposed skin. I didn’t complain because holding Brody’s hand and feeling the ice on my face made me feel alive. We woke up in my room again, wrapped in each other’s arms, and I ached from where Brody had bent me over the sofa in the small sitting room. When we came together again in the middle of the night, it was slow and steady and whispered endearments mingled with soft kisses. I was falling in love. I knew it, but I wasn’t ready to say it because what if I said it, and he left me.
I didn’t expect he would laugh at me or tell me that I was being stupid, but I feared the worst thing of all—that he told me he loved me back and then left me. How could I live the rest of my life knowing that I’d loved and lost? Who even though that it was better that way then never knowing love at all. An idiot, that’s who.
Now we were at breakfast, both with sketchbooks that we are scribbling ideas into, only he was working on some complicated design for someone important, and I was doodling this cake with numbers around it. By the numbers. One, put the egg in a bowl and whisk. Then step two, and so on. It made sense to me that a child would learn from a numbered list with everything illustrated so they knew what to do. I was lost in thinking about how I’d present this and what it meant for the career I had already. My cell began to dance across the table as it vibrated, and I caught it, call it divine intervention or the worst timing anyone could ever have, but it was Erin calling, and I answered it.
“Hang on,” I told her and indicated to Brody I was taking the call outside. As soon as I was in the corridor, I found a corner. “Hello?”
“Justin, Kleckso have offered a bonus for you to use the creamer in today’s bake—”
“No.” I cut that dead at the knees.
“It’s your last chance to feature them after you get last place today.”
“What? No, it’s not. I could make the final.” Although even then I wouldn’t use that crap because that was what it was. Shit. The guilt at the twenty k in my bank for the exaggerations I’d propagated about that fake cream churned in my stomach.
“That’s very unlikely,” she said and clucked her tongue. “You’ve been very lucky so far it seems.”
“I’m sorry?”
“From your messages to me it would seem that you’ve felt lucky. You said you missed having someone to tidy up your messes.”
“That was last week.”
“And it’s changed this week?”
“Yes.” Yes, it had because I’d opened myself up and become something more. I didn’t need to lie or be something I wasn’t. I didn’t need to have money in the bank that defined me, and I certainly didn’t need someone tidying up my messes.
“I wasn’t that bothered, you know. I never thought I’d make it past round one, and we all know that Brody will win because he’s a freaking genius, but I have a good chance of getting second, and I want to take it.”
“But it would make more sense if you came third and used your time to fulfill some of the promotional obligations I have booked you in for.”
“Cancel them.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” She sounded like I’d told her I was joining a commune and the horror in her voice made me wave. Why was I rocking the boat?
“Nope. Cancel them, cancel everything. Invoice me, and then we need to renegotiate the terms of my contract with you on renewal at the end of December. I’m looking to move into education entertainment, maybe create an online kids show? Or books?”
“That is not our demographic—”
“Then I’ll hire someone else for the twenty-five percent you get from me.”
“What the hell Justin?”
“I respect you, Erin, but let’s be honest. It’s my career, and I’ve lost control of my life, and I want it back.”
She sighed, and I could imagine her expression of distaste or anger or whatever it was she was feeling.
“Okay, Justin, if that is your final decision.”
“It is.”
“We could part company at the end of the year if you insist on doing this.”
“I’m cool with that, and you’ll go on and make some other kid rich, and I’ll move on and do something else.” I very nearly said ‘follow Brody to Corning’, but I restrained myself.
“I think you’re making a mistake. You’re on the cusp of something big, all it would take is one revealing photograph with Brody, and we could triple your followers and there are big bonuses for that.”
“Not interested.”
“You’ll lose money. We’ll lose money.”
“I’m sorry, Erin. I’ve made my decision.”
“Goodbye, Justin.”
She’d ended the call before I could return the pleasantry. I didn’t have a single clue what was coming next, but if the buzz in my chest wasn’t me having an anxiety attack, then I think I was excited.