Page 24 of The Baking Games
“I didn’t know I owed you an explanation,” he says dryly before he jogs away. Now I remember why I don’t like this guy. He’s rude and sarcastic. He’s competitive. I can’t trust him no matter what. Well, unless it’s to catch me.
CHAPTER 7
MORNING CONFESSIONAL
Producer: So, tell us what happened in the communal kitchen last night.
Rhett, sighing: Is this really interesting TV?
Producer: Our viewers are going to be curious as to how you ended up with fellow contestant Savannah in your arms.
Rhett: Are they? Okay, fine. I think this is going to be a letdown, though.
Producer: What happened?
Rhett: I was walking to the courtyard when I saw her standing on the kitchen counter in her sock feet. First off, gross. Who does that? But still, I thought it unchivalrous of me to let her die of a head injury before the competition even started. So, I waited and watched for a few seconds before, sure enough, she toppled over backward and was falling to the floor.
Producer: And you caught her?
Rhett, rolling his eyes: Yes. You saw me, right?
Producer: So, Rhett, is there something there? Do you think you might start a relationship with Savannah?
Rhett, pausing for a moment: I don’t do relationships.
SAVANNAH
I think I might throw up. That should go over well during a baking competition. Nothing says a “yummy dessert on the way” like a woman retching into a trashcan nearby.
We’re being taken to the industrial kitchen where most of the competitions will take place. I can feel the nervousness in the air. Or at least that’s the energy I feel. I have anxiety. Pretty bad anxiety, actually. I hide it well behind my smile, which is probably why I seem like the most positive person most people know.
As I step into the kitchen, I’m stunned. This place is huge!
The early morning sunlight floods through these huge skylights in the ceiling, casting a striking glow across the gleaming stainless steel surrounding us. Everything is polished and shiny like a brand-new penny. Well, if pennies were silver.
I can't believe how big this place is. It's so sprawling and industrial. It looks like a high-tech culinary arena, and it’s way better than any kitchen I've ever been in or worked in. Certainly better than the one in the grocery store where we can hardly get the microwave or the oven to work, and don't even get me started on the toaster.
Every station is a testament to modern baking, equipped with the latest in culinary technology. Brand-new mixers gleam like new cars on the showroom floor. Ovens are already humming softly in the background, just waiting for us to put something inside them. Rows of brand-new utensils are lined up with military precision at each station. I take in the grandeur of it all, the way the studio lights hang like distant stars above each station.
There are cameras mounted on silent tracks around the room. I assume they can move and capture any angle of us as we create drama for the television viewers. I can tell that the other contestants around me are either nervous like I am or are completely confident in their ability to send the rest of us home. There are murmured conversations that I can’t make out because I’m too focused on this kitchen’s beauty.
A few seconds later, Dan walks into the room with his wide grin and confident stride. He stands in the center of the kitchen and looks into the camera. I swear his teeth are a shade too white, and he has that demeanor of a ringmaster who is ready to show the audience the greatest spectacle of their lives.
"Welcome, bakers, to your very first challenge on The Baking Games," he announces, his excited voice echoing through the space. His clear and commanding voice seems to fill every corner of the kitchen. "Now today, not only are you starting your journey toward that big grand prize package, but you will also start to prove to yourselves and the world that you have the capability to be a top pastry chef."
My heart is racing in my chest. There's a mixture of anxiety and excitement, but mostly anxiety. I start to second-guess myself. How did I even get here? Why did I even think I was worthy of doing something like this? Maybe I should quit right now before I embarrass myself on national television.
Before I can think too hard, everybody around me starts clapping, so I just clap along, not knowing what we're clapping about. My hands are just mechanically coming together over and over, while inside, there’s a storm of anxiety raging. "Imposter," it tells me. "You're way out of your league."
But Dan's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts as he introduces our judges. There's Chef Alain Laurent, whose stern gaze and imposing presence are very well-known in the world of baking. He has uncompromising standards and makes the most innovative desserts I've ever seen.
Next to him is Tessa Brighton. She's an entrepreneurial powerhouse who owns a chain of trendy cake pop stores, which have made her super-famous online. From what I hear, people stand in line for hours just to get her cake pops, which she makes in all kinds of crazy combinations and decorations.
Marco Santini completes the trio. He’s a dessert influencer and globetrotter who goes on adventures around the world and makes viral videos showing various restaurants and bakeries he finds along the way. He has put many small-town bakeries on the map.
"These titans of the culinary world will be your judges," Dan says, sweeping his hand toward them with a flourish. "Their expertise is unparalleled, and they will expect nothing less from you than perfection."
Again, I hear murmurs of awe - and maybe anxiety - sweeping across my fellow contestants as the reality of all our challenges settles in. Not only will we be judged by these three people, but also by the audience who will expect an interesting show. For the first time, I realize that this isn’t just about baking but also about being entertaining. And I don't find myself to be all that entertaining. I wonder why they chose me for this.