Tori Lynn has one dream - to grow her sweets shop into a New York dessert landmark. She expects there to be competition, mischief, and hard work when opening up a store front. What Tori doesn't expect is to join the ranks of the nation's top bakers...
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Tori was accustomed to waking with the rise of the sun. With her shop, and the months she'd spent prepping it for opening, Tori's alarm was set to five-thirty practically every morning.
This morning was no different. The clock on the bedside table rang, causing Chantal to curse and cover her head with a pillow.
Tori was out of bed and dressed in her pink coat before her watch showed six o'clock. In a matter of minutes, she blended some foundation and concealer with a finger, and swiped eyeliner over her lids. The makeup gave her skin and confidence the help they both needed.
Then, she descended the staircase, her Converse sneakers squeaking along the polished wood with each step. She pushed the glowing green button on the coffee maker, the sound of caffeinated goodness spluttering into a mug a comforting welcome to the new day.
When the cup was full, she sweetened the coffee with sugar and milk. Its steam rose to her face as she walked to the dining table where Iona sat with her head in her hands and a plate of half-eaten eggs in front of her.
"What's wrong?" Tori said, taking the seat beside Iona.
She lifted her head, her shoulders slumping in a gesture that told Tori she wasn't completely comfortable, and stabbed the eggs with her fork. "I'm starting to feel really guilty about how I behaved yesterday."
"What do you mean?"
Of course, Tori knew what she meant. The argument with Theo over their recipe in the last challenge was heard by everyone on set, and the cameras focused on her as she threw pans onto the counter.
"The way I reacted to Theo's idea." Iona sighed. "I should have listened to him. We wouldn't have been at the bottom again if I just would have listened to his idea." she huffed.
It was clear, in Iona's slumped posture and sunken eyes, that she was beating herself up over the clash.
"Iona," Tori lowered her voice in case anyone was listening, or any hidden cameras were directed at them. "You can't think that way. The minute you start to question yourself, and the doubt sets in, there's no hope in winning." She was pleased with her words, not believing that such great advice was coming from her own lips. This seemed like something Chantal would say. It also seemed to be working.
Iona's gaze lifted from her plate, and her irises met Tori's. "What if he blames me?"
Tori sat back in her chair. If the tables were turned, and she was in Iona's place, would Chantal forgive her for getting them sent home? Especially if Chantal's idea could have saved their position in the competition?
