Page 40 of The Baking Games
"Okay, switch," Dan calls out. Rhett puts on a blindfold, and I can't help but smile.
"Your turn," I say teasingly. I'm handed the first dessert, and I take a moment to appreciate the role reversal. I feed him a spoonful, and he chews thoughtfully. "Is that dark chocolate and cayenne pepper?"
"Wow, you got it," I say impressed.
He smiles a bit. "I told you I've got an educated palate."
The next dessert is a bit trickier, and I watch as he furrows his brow, trying to figure out the flavors. "Mango and something earthy. Is it turmeric?"
"Nope, it's ginger," I say.
"Close enough," he mutters under his breath.
We continue through the remaining desserts, and Rhett does slightly better than I did, but not by much.
When the taste test is finally over, and everybody else has finished, Dan announces the results. Some of the teams did very well, surprisingly well. Others, not so much, but I feel like none of them did quite as terribly as we did. I hate going first.
"The team with the lowest score is…” Dan says, pausing for dramatic effect. "Savannah and Rhett!”
I groan, "Seriously?"
Rhett smirks. "Well, I guess we need to brush up on our taste buds."
"Or not eat crazy combinations like that. I feel sick to my stomach.”
Dan's grin widens. "And now for your penalty, Savannah and Rhett. For the next seventy-two hours, you two will be chained together."
There's a collective gasp from the group, and my jaw drops. I feel like it's about to hit my feet.
"What?" I say, staring at him like he’s speaking a language I don’t speak at all.
“Are they joking?” Rhett whispers in my direction.
Two producers step forward, holding a metal chain with cushioned cuffs at each end. They fasten one around my wrist and the other around Rhett’s, securing us with what looks to be about a three-foot chain.
"You have got to be kidding me," I mutter. Is it too late to go home? I wonder to myself.
“We’d better get used to it," Rhett says, giving it a gentle tug. He thinks this is funny.
Dan claps his hands again. "Remember, you'll be chained together for seventy-two hours, including the reward challenge, which means you win or lose together. Good luck."
As the producers walk away, I turn to Rhett. "This is a nightmare."
RHETT
I’m chained to Savannah. What has my life become? I try to imagine my mother watching this at home, her face beet red and her blood pressure surging. It actually makes me smile a little.
Is she watching? Doubtful. My mother doesn’t really watch television. She’s one of those people who proudly announces that fact any chance she gets, as if it’s one more thing that makes her better than other people.
“This is insane,” Savannah says. We haven’t moved a muscle yet. Everyone has left the courtyard, and here we stand like two injured animals afraid to move.
“Three whole days. Who thought this stupidity up?”
She sighs. “I have no idea.”
“You know, if you were better at guessing, we wouldn’t be standing here chained together. And I would be making my famous maple bacon waffles for myself.”
“First of all, don’t you dare try to blame this on me, Rhett Jennings! You didn’t guess right either.”