The Holiday Swap(15)
Priya rolled her eyes. “What a pompous jerk,” she muttered.
“?‘Pompous’?” is one word for it.” Cass’s eyes stayed on the now-empty doorway. “Is that what he’s going to be wearing? Those chef’s whites?”
“Yep. He wears the same thing every episode.”
Cass looked down at herself. “Why am I in this, and he’s in that?”
Priya picked up a small canister with a label that read “Stardust” and brushed some of the powder onto Cass’s shoulders. “Because you’re the star of the show,” she said, smiling at Cass.
Cass frowned at her reflection. “Yeah, but so is he.” She knew she looked good, but what she did not look like was a chef. “And, baking is messy.” Cass thought about her usual outfit: yoga pants, a T-shirt, and her favorite white apron with “Woodburn Breads” embroidered in navy blue on the front pocket. She had seven exact replicas of this uniform—one for every day of the week—along with a pair of plastic clogs that were hideously unfashionable but quite comfortable for the hours she spent on her feet.
“Oh, you’re not doing much actual baking, hon. Mostly you supervise the contestants and testing, and then judge their desserts.” She stared at Cass in the mirror, pursing her lips. “You’ve watched the show, right? Didn’t Charlie run through this with you?”
“Yes, I’ve watched the show.” Cass replied. Their voices were mere whispers now. And it was true; Cass had watched every episode. But, somehow, she’d never noticed that while Austin got to play the role of serious pastry chef in his whites, Charlie was . . . well, what Cass saw when she looked in the mirror made her feel like little more than a pretty prop. But she didn’t have time to worry about that now. She had to focus on playing Charlie convincingly, even in the most revealing, uncomfortable outfit she had ever worn.
“You’re going to be okay, Cass. Charlie believes in you—and therefore, so do I.”
Priya had finished sparkling up every bit of her exposed skin. Cass stood. “You’re right. It’s all going to be fine. I can do this.”
“That’s the spirit,” Priya said. Cass was about to leave the room, when Priya called out, “Wait!” She opened a drawer below the makeup counter, revealing a cache of bracelets and baubles. “I almost forgot. Your wrist. We need to cover up the space where Charlie’s tattoo would be.” She selected a wide gold cuff bracelet. With it on, Cass felt even less chef-like. She wore no jewelry when she baked, not even the tiny diamond stud earrings her parents had given the twins when they turned eighteen.
Cass took a deep breath and held herself tall as she walked out of the room. But Priya stopped her yet again, the pair of glossy black heels Wardrobe had picked out for her in hand. “Don’t forget these.” Cass frowned at the shoes, longing for her comfortable and familiar clogs, or at least wishing she could stay in the flip-flops Wardrobe had given her.
With a sigh Cass took the heels from Priya, who whispered, “Good luck,” before going back into the room to clean up. She slid on the shoes, which pinched and felt awful, and tried to take a few steps, stumbling as she did. Okay, Cass. You can do this.
She could. She had to. For Charlie. For herself—to prove she was more than just Cass Goodwin from Starlight Peak, with her whole life all laid out.
With new resolve, Cass teetered off down the hall toward the set. Halfway there, Austin appeared, on his way to Priya to get his shiny-nose touch-up. He paused as they met in the hall and she slowed down, too.
“Hey,” he said, tilting his head, a concerned expression on his face. “Are you sure you’re alright? You seem a bit unsteady. Anything I can do to help?”
“No thanks,” Cass said firmly, speeding up with considerable effort in the stilt-like shoes.
* * *
? ? ?
As Cass walked onto the set, which was smaller than it looked on television and crowded with large cameras, people bustling around wearing headsets, and taped markers on the floor that she had no clue how to decipher, she squinted at the too-bright lights.
For a few moments she was paralyzed by the chaos around her—camera grips and assistants running to and fro, instructions being barked from every corner, bright lights lending it all a surreal feel—and struck by the entirely new sensation of stage fright. But then she thought about her sister, and stood still for a moment, remembering everything she knew so well about her other half. She channeled Charlie’s self-assuredness as she casually walked toward the large island in the center of the studio as though she did this every day. All was fine until Cass’s heel caught a wire, sending her careening forward. She would have fallen, but suddenly Austin was there beside her. He caught her, then grinned. “Falling for me now, are you, Char?”
Cass forced a laugh and kept her tone nonchalant. “You wish.”
“Ninety seconds, folks,” a woman in a headset announced.
“Where is everyone?” Cass asked Austin, because the audience seats and the contestants’ baking stations were empty.
Austin gave her a curious look. “What are you talking about?”
Right. Charlie had explained that the twelve days of Christmas baking marathon contest wasn’t “live to air.” Segments of it were taped in front of a live studio audience, but there was some wiggle room if things went off the rails since the shows actually aired the next day. “Never mind,” she said.