Page 3 of Sugar and Spice (Glitter and Sparkle #3)
CHAPTER THREE
Brandon and I race into the kitchen, nearly tripping over each other. All kinds of things run through my head with the way my sister is screaming: fire, someone chopped their hand off with a butcher’s knife, Sadie fell down a rabbit hole.
Before we even reach the kitchen, Riley has me by the arms, and she bounces up and down, her eyes sparkling. I haven’t seen her this enthusiastic since she gave up cheerleading. “You have to enter, Harper. Please say you’ll enter!”
It slowly dawns on me that no one is dead, bleeding, or has disappeared into an alternate dimension.
“Enter what?”
“The HBN Christmas Cookie Bake-off. They’re having auditions at the Harbinger!”
Lauren and Sadie wander in behind Riley. Lauren’s smirking; Sadie looks cautiously amused.
I grab Riley by her shoulders to make her stop hopping. “Since when do you care about cookie contests or the Home Baking Network?”
“Mason Knight,” Lauren answers for Riley.
Baffled, I shake my head. “The facts don’t compute.”
Riley’s still too starry-eyed to explain, so Lauren steps forward. “The radio just announced that Mason Knight is going to be one of the celebrity judges in the annual Bake-off, and they’re holding the last set of auditions at the Harbinger this Saturday.”
“What does that have to do with me?” I ask.
“You have to audition,” Riley says, coming back to her senses. “Oh, please, Harper. Mason Knight. ”
“How old are you again?” I ask her. “Thirteen?”
She smacks my arm, grinning.
“You know the chance of making it onto the show is slim to none, right?” I tell her.
“Not for you.” Riley shakes her head so hard, her blond braid smacks her face. “You’re amazing .”
I watch the Cookie Bake-off every year, and Riley’s forgetting something important. “Teams compete, not individuals. I’d have to have a partner to even audition.”
Immediately, Riley swirls to Lauren. “You can do it!”
“No can do, Riley Roo. I’m up to my neck with the Christmas countdown on my blog, and Carla has me on eight Christmas parties.”
Riley’s shoulders sag. She doesn’t even volunteer to help—the point is winning, after all.
“I could do it,” says a tiny, female voice.
The room goes completely silent, and every one of us turns to Sadie. Her cheeks blush pink, and she looks scared to death. “I mean, if you want.”
My eyes flicker to Brandon. He’s watching me, clearly uncomfortable, and that question he almost asked in the hall lurks in his eyes.
Sadie continues, slightly more confident, “My grandmother and I used to watch the competition every year. We even talked about entering…but she passed away last November.”
Of course.
“I would love to audition with you, Harper,” she finishes, looking all wide-eyed and hopeful.
“Great,” I finally say because I am not a troll, despite what Brandon might think. “Yes.”
“It will be fun, right?” Sadie asks, desperate to integrate herself into Brandon’s world.
“So fun.”
“That’s a yes?!?” Riley screeches, grabbing me again. “I have to tell Linus!”
And with that, my sister races into the other room to phone her boyfriend and announce that I’m going to try to win her a chance to meet her schoolgirl crush. All I can do is shake my head.
Lauren nibbles her lip, slightly less confident this is a great idea. She adjusts her plaid scarf, tucking it so it lays just right over her cropped brown suede jacket, and then she runs her hand down the dark-wash jeans that are her idea of casual attire.
Brandon’s sister is dramatic and vibrant, but she’s not usually fidgety. Something tells me she doesn’t think me pairing up with Sadie is the best idea.
She shares a glance with her brother, and it’s obvious neither thinks I can do it.
I’ll simply have to prove them wrong.
“Since this is a Christmas cookie bake-off, I think we should audition with a variation of a gingerbread cookie,” I say as I page through various cookbooks I’ve collected over the years.
The one I’m looking at now is yellowed, and the pages are torn.
There are even a few smudges of flour and butter stains here and there.
It’s my grandmother’s favorite, passed down from her grandmother, and she made me swear that I would be careful with it.
“Hmmm…” Sadie browses the cookbooks, gravitating toward the ones with the pretty pictures. “I think a lot of people will go with gingerbread. What about a linzer cookie bar?”
“No one likes fruity cookies,” I argue, regretting yet again agreeing to do this.
I’m not a partner person. I’m an everything-will-go-smoothly-if-you-follow-my-orders-like-a-good-minion person.
But Sadie, despite her vacant expression and wispy giggle, is proving to be less than stellar minion material.
She has ideas. And thoughts. And opinions.
Which, frankly, are three things I don’t need in a lackey.
She looks up, her eyes bright. “Yes, but what about a chocolate raspberry linzer cookie with almonds?”
I purse my lips. “Where did you find a recipe for that?”
Excited, little Miss Alice snaps the cookbook shut. “I didn’t—we’ll make it ourselves!”
Needless to say, we discuss it (argue) for the rest of the afternoon.
Brandon hovers nearby like a chaperone ready to sweep in if I even think about hurting darling Sadie’s feelings.
He’s binge-watching old Christmas movies in the living room like an eighty-year-old woman, and the familiar chatter and music drifts into the kitchen, a comfortable background to an otherwise awkward afternoon.
He wanders in now, looking bored to death. I avert my eyes as he squeezes Sadie’s shoulder, trying not to remember a time when his casual touches were all for me.
On a commercial break, the television blares Mason Knight’s Christmas song.
I’ve seen the advertisement so many times, I can visualize Mason and the model they paired him with, all decked out in designer coats and scarves, trotting through the snow and laughing as the announcer proudly proclaims the store has gifts for everyone in the family.
On cue, she’s interrupted by a barking dog, and she laughs in such a real way, it can only be fake.
“Yes,” the voice-over says, “even your furry best friend.”
Limited time…exclusions, exclusions…blah blah blah.
But this time, the commercial doesn’t end there. Before it cuts out, the woman adds, “And don’t forget to watch Mason Knight as a guest judge on HBN’s Christmas Cookie Bake-off!”
Leaving the kitchen, I stand in front of the television, frowning. Mason stares back at me and the rest of America, grinning that lopsided, dimpled grin that made him a household name and had fourteen-year-old Riley smitten.
He is good-looking, I admit to myself grudgingly.
More so now than when he was young. He has a knack for singling you out, even through the camera, with his gray eyes trained right on you, the corners crinkling in a genuine way.
Flakes of fake Hollywood snow cling to his cool, ash-brown hair.
He wears it short, but it's a touch longer than Brandon’s.
Though it’s not as artfully messy as Lauren’s boyfriend’s, it’s definitely held in place with some kind of product.
“Do you think he’ll be at the tryouts?” Sadie asks from my side.
I jump, startled to find her next to me. “I doubt it. In fact, I bet he only makes a few short appearances for the cameras. The contestants probably won’t see him more than a handful of minutes, tops.”
The woman rattles off dates and times, and then the commercial finally changes. A demon child appears on the screen, gleefully tossing milk on the floor in a paper towel advertisement.
Shaking my head, I walk back to the kitchen. The Alderman’s counter is littered with cookbooks and handwritten recipes.
“Hey,” Brandon says when Sadie excuses herself to the bathroom. He hovers in the doorway, hesitant to enter.
I look up from an old Christmas dessert-themed magazine.
His hands are shoved into his pockets, and his shoulders are slightly hunched as if he’s trying to make himself as small and unassuming as possible—which is funny considering how tall and assuming he is.
Brandon looks at me like I’m a grizzly, ready to tear him to shreds. I narrow my eyes and wait for him to speak.
He shifts his weight. “I know this is…uncomfortable for you. But it means a lot to Sadie, and I wanted to” —he clears his throat— “thank you for including her.”
Brandon looks so vulnerable and unsure, I immediately want to ask him why it would be uncomfortable—attack when he’s weak. But then I shake the thought away. What’s wrong with me?
“It’s not a problem.” I flip a page. “It’s not like we’re going to make it onto the show anyway.”
He studies the garland greenery hanging in the arch. “Say, we, uh, never got a chance to finish our conversation yesterday.”
“What conversation?” I say, the words purposely brusque.
Knowing I’m being obtuse on purpose, he almost smiles. “The one where you admitted you’re in love with me.”
Well, that was direct. But I’ve never accused the boy of being subtle.
I stare at him for a full five seconds before I stand, snapping the magazine I was browsing closed. Then I walk past him. “Tell Sadie her chocolate linzer cookies will be fine.”
He grasps hold of my arm before I’m away. “Harper?—”
“Was in love with you, Brandon,” I snap. “Was .”
His eyes widen, and his mouth drops open. Taking advantage of his surprise, I pull away from him and walk out the front door.