I know how to bake. I’d been baking since forever, at times I had so many baked goods in my tiny kitchen that I’d have to pass them out to neighbors. Not talking to them of course but leaving parcels at their door.
The final task, the Finale Challenge, was to create a Christmas gingerbread house, and that wasn’t difficult as long as the gingerbread snapped and the icing consistency was good. The last one I’d made had been some time ago. One of my first Instapost was a stop frame of me making a house, but it was also one of the first times that a team had stepped in to pretty it up. Apparently, the photos weren’t working for them, and since I was using a particular product that I was endorsing it had to be on point.
I didn’t need a team for tomorrow though, not even I could fuck up a gingerbread house.
Please don’t let me fuck up the house.
Dressed and ready to go downstairs I was nearly out the door, but at the last minute, actually with my hand on the handle, I stopped. “I’m tired,” I said to the empty room. “Also, I don’t really have anything clever to say to anyone. I should sleep. Maybe research a few taste profiles for the cupcakes.” One quick call to reception to pass on a message to the rest and to order room service, I sat at the desk and turned on my iPad.
With a plan finally in mind, and my burger and fries eaten, I checked the time. Just after nine p.m. and I was too wired to sleep. Maybe a walk would help but not inside because I craved some quiet time. Wrapped up in my coat, I headed down the back stairs and out into the courtyard, staying close to the edge and then heading along a winding path that hadn’t been cleared since the new snowfall and continued into the wooded area. The path had tall lamps every so often, enough so I could walk without wandering off into the dark, but other than that, there was a cozy quietness about this walk. That was when I noticed Brody.
“Hey!” I called, and Brody stopped so suddenly he pinwheeled on the snow and ended up on his ass on the ground. I scurried as fast as I could to catch up with him as he heaved himself up to stand, brushing off the snow that was all over him. “Shit, my bad.” I genuinely was sorry for not thinking everything through. Story of my life.
“It’s fine.” He grinned at me. Hell, he was always freaking smiling, did he ever stop?
I gripped his arm as he slid again, and he laughed out loud as he made a show of planting himself steady on solid ground.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“I thought I was the only—”
We spoke over each other. “You first,” I managed to say before he could get another word in.
“I thought I was the only idiot out for a walk in the snow.”
“No, I’m an idiot as well.” What? What did I just say?
He gestured to the path ahead. “You want to keep going? Together?”
“Lead on.”
We fell into step and headed off down the hill away from the mansion, following the twisty turning path that had been cleared at some point judging from the piles of snow either side but was already covered in a couple of inches of new snow. There had been a sign at the start of the path warning people that the way hadn’t been cleared, but I didn’t do well with warnings.
“Give me a warning and I do the opposite,” I blurted into the companionable silence.
“Huh?” He cautiously bypassed a snowman someone had built on the side that had toppled onto the path.
“The sign at the beginning saying the path wasn’t recommended for guests.”
“Oh, that sign.” He sounded distracted, and then he stopped. “No, I can’t do it. I can’t leave it.” I stopped walking and slid a little, and he reached out to steady me. “Wanna do something stupid?” he asked.
Part of me wanted to say yes, particularly if it meant he was propositioning me in the snow in the middle of the goddamn night.
“Help me fix a snowman?” he said and turned around. That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it was better than going back to my room and worrying about the fact I was going to fuck up the first round of the competition. “Some kid will wake up tomorrow, and they’ll expect to see their snowman here, and they’ll end up crying.”
“It’s okay, you had me at snowman,” I lied and between us we righted the fallen figure. Mostly what had happened was that his head had slipped off, probably when the tree above let loose a lump of snow on top of it. We dug out the scarf, each starting at one end and tugging hard to free it from its icy confines. It was like the slow-motion Lady and the Tramp spaghetti scene, him pulling one end, me the other, and both of us meeting in the middle. He laughed, and we were so close that if I accidentally slipped or leaned in I could kiss him or fall on him or do something from a rom-com where we ended up falling for each other and—
“Oomph,” he managed to say as we collided in the middle, and I had a handful of sexy baker.
I waited for him to move away, but he didn’t.
I waited for him to say something, but he stood there, looking down at me, and I couldn’t make out the expression in his dark eyes. If he didn’t move I was going to go on my tiptoes and kiss him, but just as I flexed my muscles he stepped away, and we didn’t stay close after that, separating to find the nose and eyes and whatever else we needed. Even though I mourned the missed kiss, I was proud of myself when I found the carrot, the tip of it just visible under the snowfall. It wasn’t long before he found dark stone buttons which I assume were the eyes. Not having a photo of the original to check against made it difficult to know we were doing the right thing or not.
He started to talk as we put the finishing touches on our frosty friend.
“When I was a kid we’d have build-a-snowman competitions, but my brother Joe nearly always won. He’s a sculptor, and he always made his look real. Adam and I, he’s my twin, we’d build together but spent more time fighting and throwing snowballs than we did building. Lacey, she’s my little sister, was the only direct competition for Joe, and it was a close-fought battle to get the family win, which meant a prize of the biggest hot chocolate with marshmallows out of all of them.”
“You missed out on that?”
He threw me a smile. “Nah, we’d all get it, even Lacey, who never managed to finish all her drink. Joe would say he’d gotten an extra marshmallow, which was bullshit because Mom and Dad always treated us all the same. She works with me at 3B.” He used the abbreviation for Bakes by Brody, and I followed what he was saying. “She sure as hell can finish her drinks now.” He smiled at whatever memories were spinning around in his head.
My heart hurt a little. The way he’d casually talked about his three siblings, including a twin, a mom and dad, who treated them all the same, was hard for me to hear. I’d heard things like this before and I generally ignored it.
Last birthday I’d taken over a floor in a hotel in the city and invited thirty of my closest friends. Well, at least people to whom I was connected through business. We’d had a DJ. I got drunk and ended up leaving the party early with this guy named Mick, who was a big name in… I don’t quite recall. I just know we tried to have sex, and I wasn’t into it. He fucked his hand and left after he’d tried to snap a photo of me and him in bed to sell. Pity party for one engaged and ready to go.