CHAPTER SIX

It's All or Muffin

- not yet edited - 

The whine of the mixer put Tori in a trance. The hypnotic tempo of the beaters was a sort of therapy for her, calming her nerves and expanding her mind. Baking was Tori's way of shutting out the world. The process of measuring ingredients, stirring them together, and baking them in the oven was the perfect remedy for whatever woes she encountered in life.

She remembered baking peanut butter and oatmeal cookies on the night of her SAT test, and a batch of blueberry muffins the afternoon that Brian, her first real boyfriend, broke up with her over the phone. There are people that go to the gym and work their bodies to exhaustion to blow off steam. That's how Tori felt about baking. Right now, she needed all the therapy she could get.

Sheri had been in the kitchen for two hours with Tori. She was here to learn the recipes of items on the menu, but her mouth moved faster than her hands. She was at the island, seated on a stool and rolling through dough with a rolling pin.

"I wonder if Nora Jacobs will be a judge again this season." she said, her high-pitched voice sending a wave of pain behind Tori's right eye.

She hadn't stopped talking about the show since she walked through the kitchen door. Tori loved her brother, but Lucas had a bigger mouth than Chantal. Between the both of them, it was impossible to keep a secret. Now that Sheri knew about her official stance as a contestant, she was spitting off a hundred questions. She didn't know the answer to any of them.

"Will you get me an autograph?" Sheri pointed the rolling pin at Tori as she spoke, clumps of dough falling onto the mound of flour on the countertop.

"I don't think it works like that."

Of course, Sheri would be a fan of Nora Jacobs. She was the Simon Cowell of The Baking Network. Her criticisms were harsh and said with a callous glare. A single rip in fondant or an unfinished piece of decor would set her off on a rant. She inspected cakes with an eye of an acclaimed expert.

Her desserts were award-winning and her name is known across the country. Her face appears in every grocery store on packages of cake mix and frozen cookie dough. If someone wanted an authentic cake from Nora Jacobs' bakery, they would be paying thousands of dollars for it. If Tori remembered correctly, it was Nora Jacobs who baked Chrissy Teigen and John Legend's wedding cake. She saw a picture of the 6-tiered cake on People magazine one morning while passing a display on the street. The cake was gorgeous, gold details decorating the bottom of the cake and the top bursting with ivory flowers. 

Tori once questioned how a woman with such bluntness and lack of empathy on television could be so successful in the business world. Although Nora's cakes were beautiful, Tori didn't think that she would ever buy a slice if it meant being in the same room as her. How could the rest of the country not feel the same? Maybe it was the age-old expression of "there's no such thing as bad publicity." Nora Jacobs may be a bitch on TV, but she used the platform to sell her desserts.

Sheri didn't differ much from Nora in terms of attitude. In fact, Tori can remember a handful of times when Sheri has scolded her for trivial behavior. Tori's speech at her brother's wedding was too casual and it didn't highlight the bride, which of course Sheri found to be offensive because she wanted to be the center-of-attention. As if a woman in a 30-pound dress could go unnoticed on her own wedding day. Then there are the times that Sheri interjects herself in Tori's conversations. Whether it be with Lucas or her parents, Tori found it hard to say a word when Sheri was present.

It was surprising that even now, as Tori switched off the power of the standing mixer, that Sheri didn't find something to criticize.

"You'll be spending a lot of time with her, right?"

Tori let out a sigh, hiding her face behind a curtain of blonde hair as she removed the bowl from the mixer. She knew better than to engage more than necessary with Sheri. It would only end in a headache. She was glad that her hair was hiding her face, because she rolled her eyes. "If I happen to walk into an elevator with Nora, then I'll ask for her autograph."

At her response, Sheri smiled. "Ask her to make it out to My Friend, Sheri Lynn."

Before Tori could reply to Sheri's dumb request, the door opened to the kitchen and Chantal walked into the room. Instead of her pink apron, she wore a rose-colored cardigan and denim skirt. Her heels clapped along the tile floor as she approached the island and eyed Sheri's dough.

"What are you making?"

Sheri ran the pin across the dough, pressing her shoulders down and working the corners outward. "Croissants I think." She blew a piece of dark hair away from her brow and huffed as if she was doing back-breaking work.

Tori met Chantal's eyes and knew they were thinking the same thing. Sheri had an even bigger flair for the dramatic than Chantal, and that was saying a lot.

"Get your bag, Tori. We're going out." Chantal stepped away from the island and met her friend at the only other counter in the room.

"Uhm, what? Where do you think we're going?" Tori crossed her arms over her apron in a stance that told Chantal to TRY ME.

Although she would love to ditch Sheri, she wasn't enthusiastic about leaving the shop. She trusted Lucas and Valerie to run the front, but she didn't want Sheri roaming around the dining room. There was a potential that she would open her mouth, and Tori wasn't prepared to deal with annoyed customers.

"We're going shopping." her eyes barred down on her friend like a bear threatening its prey. "You're not going on national television looking like that." She waved her hand at Tori's ensemble as if to prove her point.

Tori looked down at her clothes, not finding a fault in the loose-fitting jeans and American Eagle t-shirt.

"You're representing the shop. You have to stop dressing like a teenager." Chantal continued, her eyes narrowing further with every word.

"You need something sexy." Sheri interjected with a heavy breath. Her hands were still working out the dough with the rolling pin.

"See. Even Sheri's on my side. Get your purse and let's go."

Tori didn't argue. In a way, Chantal was right.

She was comfortable in her clothes. A t-shirt, jeans, and converse had been her signature look for years. Chantal was right about her fashion being on the side of juvenile. It was a look she hadn't changed since high school.

Still, she didn't see the purpose of spending money on clothes when the audience wouldn't see them under an apron. She knew what Chantal would say to that; "They'll see enough."

"I've already told Lucas and Valerie that we're leaving for the day. Lucas has a key and is closing tonight."

Which meant that Sheri would be staying until closing too.

"Can you finish the croissant dough and then put in the fridge? I left instructions for how to bake it in the morning. The binder is on the shelf by the sink." Tori said to Sheri as she pulled off her apron.

Sheri nodded in response but didn't give an answer. She was rolling the dough faster, probably to get done sooner so that she could sit in the dining room with a cup of coffee and a romance novel.

Tori grabbed her purse from the hook in the pantry and followed Chantal out the door.

Voices mixed with the popping of deep fryers in the food court. The mall was busy, which didn't come as a surprise. Tori has learned that everywhere in New York City is busy at any time of the day. The mall was no exception.

Chantal sat down at a table with two plates of orange chicken and fried rice. Tori carried the drinks and shopping bags, setting them down in a heap on the rectangular metal table.

"I am starving." Chantal said, digging a fork into a piece of chicken and popping it into her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed, relishing the taste of fried food.

The tangy smell of the sauce filled Tori's nose. Her mouth was watering and she couldn't wait to get a bite. She shook off the plastic bags from her wrist and grabbed a fork.

"So," Chantal started through a full mouth of chicken. She covered her lips with a hand and mumbled, "We're leaving tomorrow. How do you feel?"

Tori hadn't had much time to think about it. She was so preoccupied with getting the shop in suitable order. There was always something to do. Valerie needed help with processing coupons on the register, and Lucas dropped a tray of cookies on his way to the dessert case. Between managing the business behind-the-scenes, she also started an anonymous jar for customers to rate their experience at the shop and the taste of their treats. She hadn't thought about the show in two days.

Now that Chantal mentioned it, Tori felt a twinge of anxiousness creeping into her chest. She would be at JFK International Airport in the morning. She thought about what would be waiting for her when she lands in Napa Valley. A crew with cameras? Would she see Caiden?

"Uh. I feel nervous, I guess." The hitch in Tori's voice didn't get past Chantal.

"Why are you so nervous about this? I don't understand how you can't see that this is a dream come true." She waved her fork through the air as she talked, not noticing the drops of sauce flying from its prongs. "How many people do you know that just walk into a producer at a bar and get offered the deal of a lifetime at the perfect moment?"

Tori knew this. She's spent a lot of time thinking about it and dismissing the reality of it all.

"It's just so different for me. I've never done anything like this."

Chantal knew this. Opening the shop was the most adventurous decision Tori has ever made.

"How can you learn to be different if you don't try? You can't go through this and be a downer the whole time. I know you only want the best for the business, but you are over thinking everything.  All you can do right now is show up in Napa Valley tomorrow and kill the competition."

Chantal always knew what to say. Tori thanked her friend and took a bite of chicken. Her stomach savored the food. She washed it down with a drink of Coke.

"I'm coming to your house and we're putting those outfits together." Chantal said with a smile, pointing her fork at the plastic bag from Nordstrom.

"Just don't make me wear the heels yet."

"Why not? Don't you think Caiden will like the pumps?" Chantal teased.

Tori almost choked on a piece of chicken. She forced it out of her throat with a cough and slapped her friend on the shoulder. "What? How did this get to be about Caiden?"

"Oh, 'cmon. I saw how he was looking at you the other day. He thinks you're hot and we both know it."

She thought back to the night they met and how she thought he could be the real life incarnate of Christian Grey. Maybe Chantal wasn't too far off. She's proven right so far. Tori's cheeks burned red at the thought of Caiden's heel fetish. Chantal caught the color of her face before Tori could hide it.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" She shrieked in that teenage-girl-that-is-too-excited way.

"I think you're delusional. He's not in my league. He's not even on my map, Chantal. There's no way."

"He's a Men's Health Magazine model kind of hot." She said, waving a hand in front of her face as if it were a fan and she needed air. "Those guys always have a fetish. He already calls you a school teacher. Maybe I should have picked out a plaid skirt for you."

Tori laughed hard. The idea that Caiden Murphy could have a thing, even if it was a fetish, for her was unimaginable. However, the laughter from the thought made Tori thankful to have a friend like Chantal. She hadn't laughed this hard in months.

"How should we handle the competition?" Chantal said as she finished off the last piece of chicken on her plate. She opened the carton of fried rice on the table. "Are we going for the whole good girl vibe or can one of us be the bitch?"

Chantal passed the rice to her friend after pouring half on her plate. Tori did the same and mixed the rice with the chicken. Her stomach was feeling full now, but she hated to waste so much food. Especially since she paid twelve dollars for it. Mall food was so expensive. So she took another bite.

"You're welcome to be the bitch. I'm just going to try and not get in anybody's way."

"How is that going to work? We'll be blowing them all out of the water. There's bound to be some drama."

She had a point. If they won the challenges, then they would be a target for the other teams. Tori didn't like confrontation, and she definitely didn't want to encounter it on television for everyone in America to see.

Like a typical reality show, the contestants on BakeOff shared a house. Tori and Chantal would be roommates with 10 other people. She read over the terms in the paperwork from Caiden, and knew that the space would be extravagant. She envisioned The Bachelor mansion and America's Next Top Model condo.

"My plan is to stay away from the drama. I don't need any of it coming to haunt me in the challenges." She gave Chantal a knowing glare, waiting for her friend to agree.

Chantal nodded her head and continued to eat her plate of rice. "I wonder what kind of insane challenges they have for this season. I hope it's nothing like season 2 when the teams had to build a Christmas tree out of cake. And then-"

"Then the guy fell off the ladder and crushed the cake." Tori finished her friend's sentence with a nervous laugh.

The stakes of the game were high and she needed to do well in every challenge. If the challenge called for a ladder, then she would climb it. If the judges wanted her to dive into a pool of chocolate, then she would do a front-flip.

Chantal finished her food and tossed the plate in a near-by trash can. Tori did the same, with only a few spoonfuls left of rice on her plate. She grabbed the plastic shopping bags and followed Chantal to the exit. 

A breeze welcomed them to the outside world. The parking lot was still, the chatter from the food court dying as the door closed against the noise. They followed the paved walkway to the bus stop.

Tori checked the time on her watch. The face showed 5:40. If she could get home in half-an-hour, then she would have enough time to watch the episode of Criminal Minds that she recorded on the DVR. She thought about the half-filled suitcase laying on her bed. There was still packing to be done. Maybe she could multi-task without missing a scene of Matthew Grey Gubler on the television.

Tonight would be her last night at home for two months. She would miss the comfort of the shop, and the way Cashew woke her up every morning with a loving head-butt. She would have neither in Napa Valley.