Page 8 of Bake You Mine (Port Fortune #1)

“And smile, the two of you!” Ben circled them.

“That means stop with the death glare, Aubrey.” He circled them a couple more times.

“Okay, I think that’s enough. Jenny is the reporter assigned to the story.

She’ll swing by or call you both for the interview portion.

The article will run in Friday’s paper.”

Ben slipped out the door. Aubrey moved away from Liam, rubbing the back of her neck.

“You all right?” Liam asked.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. I forgot Ben has all the charm of a New York paparazzo. Can we get on with what the challenge will entail, Gary? I have to get back to work.”

Gary clucked his tongue against his teeth.

“Very well. This first challenge, a dinner for thirty-five, will be the perfect way to kick off the festivities. The people I’ve invited are from the elite of both Port Fortune and DC society.

They’re discerning individuals who come equipped with expansive palates. ”

“Aw, damn, here I’d hoped you’d just rounded up a group of nobodies from the Arby’s parking lot,” Liam said.

Aubrey snorted while Gary let out one of his rapturous laughs. “Oh, you do make me laugh.” He chuckled to himself again. “I want to see how you work under pressure. The oh-so-tiny kitchen here will throw a lovely wrench into the best-laid plans, don’t you think?”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Aubrey groused.

His eyes twinkled. “Oh yes, before I forget, I want to see new dishes from you both for each course—ones not currently served in your establishments. Each course will have at least two components—one from each of you. I expect to be wowed!”

Of course, Gary would make them jump through more hoops than a lion in a circus.

Liam had agreed to endure this foolishness because he had no choice.

Maybe his mom could loan him money to help move or make modifications to the current space?

Nah, she’d want her French-manicured fingertips in everything.

Besides, he would feel uncomfortable asking his mom for that much money, anyhow.

She did okay for herself, but since the death of his father, she relied on her salary as a paralegal, his father’s pension, and meager insurance payouts.

The family had been tangled up in a lawsuit with the state for years to get the full insurance payout from his accidental death.

Not that money would bring him back. The struggle of the lawsuit was like rubbing salt in the wound.

“It’s not like it’ll take Aubrey that long to come up with desserts and a couple of loaves of bread. I’m at a disadvantage here.”

“Proof you know nothing about my profession.”

Her eyes lit up with rage, which, no lie, was kinda hot.

“You two creative geniuses can whip up something wonderful on short notice!” Gary dropped a sheaf of papers on a nearby table and a check to cover the expenses. “This comes from the Chamber’s coffers, so spend it wisely and save your receipts.”

Two of Gary’s assistants entered, each carrying a crate.

“Here’s the wines we’ll be providing. Samples will be dropped off by the end of the day. Use those as a basis to create your menu. Let those creative juices flow. I’m excited to see what you come up with!” Gary released another popper on his way out the door.

Liam reached for his check. At least Gary had given enough money to craft a decent menu.

“In case you were worried, I shouldn’t need the kitchen for much. Just the warming drawers to keep things at temperature,” Aubrey said.

He folded over the check and shoved it in his back pocket. “Same here.”

Gary poked his head through the open door.

“Perhaps I should have clarified. You can do some prep in your kitchens, chopping vegetables and the like. However, this kitchen must be used for most of the challenge. I’m simply dying to see how you work under pressure.

” He handed each of them a key. “I’ll see you both at the cocktail hour Thursday night, if not before. Toodles!”

Aubrey rolled her shoulders. “I wonder if we should search for hidden cameras.”

Liam stole a glance at her, in particular, at the giant purple macarons on each side of her ass. He cleared his throat. “It could be fun, right? This doesn’t have to be a disaster.”

She brushed a piece of dark hair from her face. “We’ll figure out how to work in the small kitchen once we’ve settled on the menu.” She still didn’t quite meet his gaze.

Liam sighed. “Let’s take a look at it again, huh?”

He followed her into the kitchen, hating himself for enjoying the view.

She flicked on the light, illuminating a kitchen roughly the size of his 300-square-foot apartment in San Francisco.

Aubrey stepped into the kitchen, touching cabinets on either side. “Some of the patisseries in Paris have kitchens the size of cupboards. I can do it.”

“Are you insinuating I can’t?” he shot back.

She popped out her left hip and placed her hand there.

“Contrary to what you may think, I don’t care what you do.

Just stay out of my way.” They stared each other down before she exhaled.

“Look, let’s just get through this, okay?

This is only the first challenge. It will be a lot harder if we hate each other. ”

He coughed at her word choice. Harder. “You’re right. We’ll still be neighbors after this. Wouldn’t want us to act as if we were strangers, hmm?”

She reached up to brush off the dust on the oven hood. “If you’re trying to make a jab at me, I won’t acknowledge it.”

He’d need to work on the landing the next time he attempted to joke with her. “You know what I meant.”

She shot him a glance before tapping a message on her phone. “I do. And I assure you, if I lose, there will be no temper tantrums. Can you agree to the same?”

Temper tantrums, no, freak outs, yes. The prize was life-changing. But he’d never admit weakness to an opponent. “I’m a little old for that, but I agree. We’re still neighbors, after all. ”

She started to say something as her phone chimed. “I’ve got to pick up my kid from a friend’s house. I’ll see you later.”

“Hey, shouldn’t we talk about the menu?”

“DM me, and I’ll send you my number.”

He reached for his phone and typed out a post about the competition on his social media platforms, hoping, for once, to beat Aubrey to the punch.

Bleary-eyed and barely awake, Aubrey groped for her phone.

It was buzzing non-stop. With a groan, she reached for it and rolled onto her side.

Notifications were piled up at least a hundred deep.

She kept scrolling as her heart plummeted to her stomach.

She saw negative comments from Liam’s most recent post on social media about the contest and numerous one-star reviews for Petit Chou on the top restaurant review website.

Their rating had gone from a solid 4.6 to a 3. 9.

She pulled up the reviews first.

Petit Ew! I found a long hair in my croissant, and a cockroach skittered past my Louboutin! THIS PLACE IS NASTY. AVOID AT ALL COSTS!

That review was from someone named Brielle A. She didn’t have a photo on her profile. Aubrey clicked on another review from someone named Dani P.

I’ve had better grocery store sheet cakes than those at Petit Chou. Avoid them !

There were at least ten similar reviews, most coming from brand-new profiles. She clicked over to read his post, finding nothing damning there, except for the last line, which declared he was ready to do whatever it took to win.

Nice to know Liam was just another pretty-faced asshole. At least he’d saved her the trouble and shown his ass now.

She threw on her clothes and ran downstairs.

Her father stood at the foot of the stairs, and given the stern expression he wore, he already knew. He treasured each glowing Petit Chou review like a gold star on a test paper. “I guess you’ve seen them.”

“Yep, and I’m going to confront the source.”

Her father removed his readers and rubbed the skin between his eyes. “I don’t know that it’s Liam’s fault. I can’t see him playing dirty like this.”

“Eating in his restaurant a few times does not qualify you as a judge of the man’s character,” Aubrey yelled over her shoulder.

Even if her father was right, she was mad at Liam and herself. She’d started to rein in her feelings yesterday. It was time to rip off the bandage for good. This stupid crush was officially dead in the water.

Her father sighed and waved his hand at her. “Go talk to him. I’ll let Tom know you’re running late if it can’t be resolved in time, and I’ll take Daphne to school.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Aubrey swiped her keys from the counter and drove off to give hot chef a large piece of her mind.