Page 20 of The Holiday Swap

And now Cass had to play judge, comparing the contestants’ soggy cupcakes to the version she and Sydney had plated up, which looked gorgeous on display.

“Well,” Cass said, her lacquered lips forced into a wide smile. “Let’s see if these taste better than they look, shall we?”

“Indeed,” Austin replied, making a funny face as he took a first bite. “Hmm, interesting. I think the effort was good, but frankly, the entire thing is a bit of a hot mess.” This comment felt directed at her, not the contestant, but Cass was determined not to show how rattled she was. “Quite literally,” Austin added, grimacing as he pointed his gold-tone fork at the piped buttercream, which was melting into the too-soft gelée, the whole thing making a soupy orange disaster on the plate.

Ignoring Austin’s snideness, Cass lifted her fork and took a bite of the cupcake.

“I think you’ve made a good effort here,” Cass forced herself to say to the stricken-looking contestant. “But unfortunately having to redo the cupcakes that late in the game meant you didn’t have enough time to cool them,” Cass continued, feeling awful for thecontestant, who was close to tears. She felt responsible for these terrible cupcakes; it was her screwup that had caused the contestants to use pectin and not the needed gelatin. “And the texture of the gelée is, well, a touchsoft...”

Beside her, Austin burst out laughing, interrupting Cass. “Soft!” he exclaimed, laughing harder.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Sasha and the camera operator, though he didn’t look sorry at all. “Let’s do that take again. One for the blooper reel, right?” The audience laughed along with him, enjoying his maverick ways. Meanwhile, Cass felt like a stooge and a total failure.

•••

“Tomorrow will be a better day,” Sydney said while cleaning up the day’s mess. Cass apologized yet again and Sydney shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Charlie. Just, send me the recipe file and I’ll make sure we’re all organized for this week?”

“Right,” Cass said. “Of course. For sure.” But as she walked away and checked her phone, there was still nothing from her sister. She dialed the number of the bakery, but the line was busy—not a surprise, considering what a frenetic time of year it was. She tapped out another text—Hi! I really need those recipes. Can you please send them??—and headed for the door, hoping against hope that her sister would come through for her, but had a terrible feeling that she was on her own.

6

Charlie

Wednesday: 10 Days Until Christmas...

Starlight Peak

After the burned bread incident, the rest of the previous day had flown by without a hitch. Charlie had an overwhelming number of orders to fill—Starlight Bread aside, basic sourdough loaves were a staple on most dinner tables in Starlight Peak, too—and it felt like the bakery’s phone hadn’t stopped ringing. With Walter taking orders and assisting with the dough, they had managed to double the sourdough loaf count that morning to make up for what she’d burned the day before, all without a visit from the fire department. But in order to be ready for the Christmas Eve party, they also had to bake a certain number of Starlight loaveseach day. And because of Charlie’s screwup and the need to double the plain sourdough, they were now a day behind.

She had one other problem: in yesterday’s chaos she’d managed to misplace her phone. Charlie had searched everywhere, but it seemed her phone had plain disappeared. She’d been planning to text back and forth with Cass and find out how her sister was faring in L.A., and now was riding a thin edge of panic as she kept pushing worst-case scenarios out of her mind. The bakery’s landline was now the only way to try and connect with her sister, but the phone had been ringing nonstop with holiday orders. Finding time to try and connect with Cass when she wasn’t on set and when Charlie had a free moment had proven impossible.

The bakery was finally closed for the day. Every surface was spotless, and the sourdough was prepped and ready to proof overnight. Charlie wanted nothing more than to drag herself upstairs and sleep for days. Then the bakery’s phone rang.

Charlie jumped, hoping it was Cass. If there was one thing—aside from a good night’s sleep—that would make her feel better, it would be to hear her sister’s voice and to know that everything had gone smoothly with Cass’s first two days on set. Plus, she was sure Cass wanted an update on the bakery. Not only was this the busiest time of year, Woodburn Breads was Cass’sSweet & Salty. Charlie wanted to make sure Cass knew she would not let her down.

“Hey, Cass,” she said automatically, pressing the handpiece to her ear and stretching the cord so she could bend down to scratch Gateau under the chin. She had found the stash of kibble, but the cat had become accustomed to the bits of ham Charlie had been feeding her, and was back for another morsel.

“Hello?” A female voice—not Cass’s—replied, her tone confused. “Cass, is that you?”

“Oh, sorry. Yes. It’s me. Cass.” Why was she finding it so difficult to remember she was pretending to be her sister? Probably the concussion, but still. She was used to being much more in control of things.

“I know you’re closed, but I had an order to make and thought I’d take a chance. And look at that, there you are.” The woman still hadn’t identified herself, and Charlie realized she should probably recognize the voice.

“Here I am,” Charlie replied, forcing a smile onto her face and hopefully into her voice. “How can I help you?”

“Actually... First, I wanted to tell you I hope you didn’t think I was eavesdropping the other night. At the house.” Charlie still had no clue who this was, or what she was referring to. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but I was walking the girls and you were a touch... Well, you know how sound can carry around here. That was quite a grand gesture on Brett’s part!” The woman paused and waited for her to respond, but Charlie didn’t know what to say.

“Uh... you bet. Can you just spell your name for me so I’m sure I’ve got it right?”

There was a peal of laughter. “It’s Sharon Marston, Cass!”

Charlie frowned. Sharon had been a year ahead of the twins in school and had married some pro hockey player and left town a few years earlier. Charlie had always viewed her as mostly harmless, though she had been known as a gossip in high school.

“Oh. Hi, Sharon. So what can I get for you?” Charlie prepared to write the order on the notepad beside the phone, which operated as the bakery’s main order database. It was ridiculous to still be taking orders this way—on a landline, with a pen and notepad. Ifthe rumor really was true about Makewell’s wanting to move in, Woodburn Breads needed to step things up. She made a mental note to give this more thought later.

“I’d like two loaves of sourdough. And, of course, you’ve put me down for a Starlight loaf on Christmas Eve?”

“Of course,” Charlie said.

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