True to his word, Anna's grandpa drove her all the way to Baton Rouge to hand in her application for Sliced the next day. He'd told her parents he was taking her to help him pick up some fresh ingredients and run a couple other errands, which wasn't a lie since they'd be grocery shopping later. They just happened to be taking care of something else first.

The studio where Sliced was accepting applications also housed many of the Craving Channel's other shows like Cupcake Clash and Spice Showdown. Bakers and chefs of all ages filled the studio with the scents of freshly baked cookies, spicy seafood gumbo, and dozens of other delicious dishes that got Anna's mouth watering and her heart hammering.

She was really there, surrounded by chefs who had spent more time in the kitchen than she'd been alive. Sure she'd only be competing against other kids, but for once, she wouldn't be the only one who'd been baking ever since she could hold a spoon. Today she might even catch a glimpse of Ivan Volkov, the infamously irritable judge whose leering vulture could send even the most confident Sliced contestant home in tears.

"You'll do fine, Cupcake." Anna's grandpa gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as they followed signs to find where they were supposed to hand in her application. "Today, all you have to do is stand in line for a bit and give them some paperwork."

Even that proved to be intimidating for many of the children who had lined up to apply. Frogs hopped in circles, and spiders skittered over fidgeting fingers as their owners waited their turn. More than a few parents side-eyed the kids' critters, ready to corral quarreling companions at a moment's notice.

Anna's breath whooshed out of her in a relieved sigh as her bees' buzzing dulled to a steady hum. She wasn't the only applicant who was more than a little anxious.

But one had enough confidence for everyone else.

The boy in front of Anna crossed his arms and puffed out his chest as proudly as his rooster. Every inch of him from his neatly combed blond hair to his crumb-free apron exuded an air of quiet superiority. He couldn't have been much older than Anna, yet he refused to so much as glance at the other kids their age as if he'd already dismissed them as amateurs who could barely bake Betty Crocker.

The boy's gaze rested not on the table where potential contestants handed Sliced staff their applications but on the old man standing beside him. Anna had never seen someone with such an off-putting smile. There was a certain sharpness to it, matching his fox's fanged grin as it observed the other companions.

The instant the fox locked eyes with Bertrand, it yipped as if it had smelled a particularly juicy chicken.

The old man glanced over his shoulder, laughing as he caught sight of Anna's grandpa. "Fancy seeing you here, Isaac."

"Herb." Her grandpa spat out the name as if it was curdled milk. Bertrand growled softly. He never acted aggressive, not even when Anna climbed on top of his back, yet there he was with a low rumble building in his throat.

"You know him?" Anna squinted as she glanced between the two of them. Whoever this guy was, he didn't look familiar to her.

Herb put a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "He never told you about me?"

"What's there to tell anyone? You ditched me when I needed you most." Anna had never seen her grandpa so mad, his jaw twitching as his grip on her hand tightened. "If you're trying to get your old job back, the answer is no."

Herb's fox wagged its tail. "I don't need it. Business has been booming, and once my grandson wins Sliced, we'll be doing even better. Wouldn't expect anything less from a Voorhees. Ain't that right, Connor?"

The boy beside him smirked. His rooster crowed so loudly Anna's bees nearly flew into her ears to block out the noise. "That's right," he said. "Grandpa had me apprentice with a pastry chef last summer, and he's had me working at Cake Kingdom ever since."

Now that was a name Anna recognized. Sweet Surprise had lost many customers to the allure of their magnificent macarons and elegant éclairs. "That's your bakery?" she asked.

"Our newest location, yes. It's not as profitable as the others yet, but that's nothing a little publicity can't fix. That's more than I can say about your bakery." False sympathy dripped from Mr. Voorhees's voice as he examined his nails. "Such a pity your place is getting ready to close its doors. What was it called, Sour Surprise?"

"More like Sad Surprise," Connor said. His leering gaze reminded Anna of his grandpa's. "Sounds like you couldn't sell a cookie to Santa."

Heat rushed to Anna's face. "Sounds like you're better at being mean than—"

Anna's grandpa gave her hand a gentle but firm squeeze. Only then did Anna notice the people staring at her buzzing bees and Bertrand's bristling haunches. She quieted her companions with a sigh, silently glaring at Connor and his grandpa.

"I'd wish you luck, but I think you need more than that, kid." Mr. Voorhees bared his teeth in something that was more snarl than smile. "Come on, Connor. Let's not waste our time on people who wouldn't know sugar from salt."

With that, Mr. Vorhkees grabbed Connor's wrist and dragged him to the table where Sliced staff were accepting applications. Connor glanced over his shoulder, earning a sharp tug from Mr. Voorhees before the older baker turned his attention back to the thoroughly unamused staff members.

"What is their problem?" Anna asked.

Her grandpa sighed. "I don't know, Cupcake. Believe it or not, Mr. Voorhees was one of the first folks who ever worked at Sweet Surprise. He ditched us like spoiled milk as soon as he figured out how to start up his own business by stealing most of our catering clients. Never thought he'd ever set foot in Louisiana again, but I guess he couldn't resist stirring up trouble."

Anna clenched her fists at her sides. Sweet Surprise had been through enough as it was. Why would anyone want to go out of their way to cause trouble like Mr. Voorhees had?

Bertrand wrapped a paw around Anna and pulled her into one of his famous hugs. "Don't mind them," her grandpa said. "People like that aren't worth it. Just focus on how you're going to blow the judges' taste buds away!"

He was right. There was no way Anna would let Mr. Voorhees and his nasty attitude stop her from making a good impression now that she finally had a chance to be on her favorite TV show.

At last, Mr. Voorhees and his grandson marched away from the staff members' table. Now it was Anna's turn.

Anna held up her application as if it was a shield as her hands shook. "I'm here to slice for Applied. I-I-I mean I'm here to, um..."

One of the staff members, an older woman with her hair done up in a bun, offered Anna a reassuring smile. "Deep breaths, sweetie. You can pet Delilah if that'll help." The woman's otter chirped and rolled onto its back, patting its belly with its paws.

Anna forced her fingers to loosen their grip on the application, papers rustling as she freed one hand to stroke the otter's soft fur. "Thank you. What I'm trying to say is I'm here to apply for Sliced."

"You don't say?" The second staff member, a college-aged boy with music blasting through his earbuds, barely glanced up from his phone as his alligator snapping turtle scraped its claws against the linoleum. The massive reptile glared up at Anna from inside its ridged shell as if she was personally responsible for the lack of worms in its food bowl.

"He's just cranky because they won't let him work the cameras," his coworker said with a conspiratorial whisper. She hummed to herself as she thumbed through Anna's paperwork. "Everything looks peachy so far. I take it this older gentleman is your grandpa?"

He nodded. "Yes. I'm the luckiest grandpa in the whole world."

"Aw, and the sweetest, too." The woman nodded. "All filled out and ready to go. I just need your application fee."

Anna passed her the money, silently holding her breath as the woman flipped through the bills. She knew she had enough—she'd counted it three times before her grandpa drove her over—but some small part of her still worried they'd find a way to disqualify her somehow.

"All set. Now for the fun part!" The woman passed Anna a bowl full of plastic capsules with slips of paper folded inside. "Close your eyes, grab three, and open 'em up for me."

Each capsule opened with a pop that echoed in Anna's ears as loudly as her heartbeat. "Vanilla, lime, and," Anna's eyes widened as she read the last ingredient, "cayenne pepper?!?"

"Ooh, that sounds like a fun one!" The woman jotted down the three ingredients Anna had grabbed. "Now all you have to do is bake something that showcases all three of those lovely ingredients and bring it here next Sunday so the judges can taste it and get to know you better."

"She won't have to bake it here?" her grandpa asked.

"Nope, all applicants get to bake their audition dessert at home," she said. "That helps us know how they'll do without any fancy equipment, and since we don't have enough staff to film everyone who applies, we have contestants' families help us film b-roll footage. What contestants do for fun when they aren't baking, a little basic prep work, stuff like that."

The grouchy staff member snorted. "They don't care if family members help or if folks take more time than they'll have on the show. Makes for better TV if a couple duds make it on camera. Remember when that one kid microwaved their butter so long it blew up? The whole kitchen smelled like a movie theater for a week after that."

His coworker thumped him on the arm as Anna's stomach sank to her toes. "Oh, shush! She'll do fine."

Despite being stuck with cayenne pepper? She'd be lucky if she could taste test her own dessert, let alone serve it to the judges.