Page 69 of The Baking Games

"I'm not sure what you mean by safety drills."

Connor stares at me for a long moment like he's gotten me. He's somehow cornered me where he wants me.

"Really? You don't do fire drills, abandon ship drills, man overboard drills, medical emergency drills?" His voice trails off, and I can hear my heart beating in my ears. He's trying to pin me down. He's trying to prove that I don't work on yachts, and unfortunately, he seems to be doing a pretty good job of it.

"Connor, is this some sort of inquisition?" Savannah asks. She can tell that I'm uncomfortable.

"We do all kinds of drills, of course," I say, trying to make this whole thing disappear. "As every sailing vessel would do. Now, can we get back to eating our breakfast?"

"Sure," Connor says, "except I think everybody should know that you could not work on yachts and know so little about them.”

My face is starting to burn. I want to stand up, grab him by his scrawny neck, and throw him down to the other end of the table where Maggie sits. But I can't. I don't want to get kicked out of this competition, and I’d hate to hit Maggie with Connor’s body.

"Think whatever you want to think, Connor."

"Boys, boys. Let's just get back to eating. There's no sense in arguing about anything," Maggie says, being ever the motherly figure to all of us.

Connor shrugs his shoulders. "That's fine. I got what I wanted. I think we all know that Rhett is one big phony."

SAVANNAH

An hour later, after the awkward breakfast and changing our clothes, we’re on the shuttle bus heading to a local food bank. Rhett has been very quiet since his confrontation with Connor. I can tell it got to him, but I don't know exactly why.

"You okay?" I ask as we go down the bumpy dirt road leading into town.

"I'm fine," he says, staring out the window.

"If you want to talk..."

He looks at me. "Talk? Yes, because it's so private to talk."

"Oh, yeah, right," I say, forgetting that we’re miked up.

It's amazing how you can forget that microphones record everything you say and cameras record everything you do twenty-four hours a day. I guess Dan was right about that. You get used to it really quickly.

"Well, at least we get to go out and about today."

"To a food bank," he says.

His whole personality has changed even since last night. Since this morning. Connor really did a number on him. I understand how he feels.

"Listen, don't pay any attention to Connor. He's an idiot. He's annoying. I don't know how I ever dated him."

That gets a smile out of Rhett. "I don't know how you did either. I mean, you're all sunshine and rainbows, Sunny. Why in the world would you date somebody like that?"

"Like I told you, he was very different in the beginning. It was short-lived. I'm just glad it's over, and I hate to see him affecting you. Don't let him get to you like that. That's all he wants."

"Yeah, but..." he starts to say something, then stops himself.

"What?"

"Never mind. It's not important."

We continue down the road until we arrive at a small brick building that is seemingly out in the middle of nowhere. It has a little drive-through area, and several cars are waiting. People inside are leaning out the window with bags and giving people in the cars food.

I remember what that felt like. Going to the food bank was a regular part of my childhood. Sometimes, my mother would go with us, but often, it was just me, standing in line waiting for food to last us a week. I had to make sure Sadie was fed. She loved the juice boxes we got there. She also adored the boxed macaroni and cheese. The memory brings a smile to my face.

We get out of the van and head toward the building. A woman is standing in front with a big smile on her face. She's very petite, has bleached-blonde hair, and looks to probably be in her sixties.

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