by Carol Durand
**
The first week of Cutthroat Cupcakes was surprisingly invigorating for Missy. She embraced each of the themes and found unique ways to satisfy the requirements of the judges, creating masterpieces that were spectacular in taste, appearance and originality. Simon had been correct, once she was set loose in the sparkling commercial kitchen on the set, the world outside of baking ceased to exist. Production assistants and judges darted about, trying to stir up chaos and fear, but Missy remained steadfastly focused on whatever task happened to be at hand.
The first two rounds of eliminations had been made, and the three remaining contestants were Missy, Simon, and a plump, jovial woman from Minnesota named Penny Mathers. From the beginning of the show, all of the contestants had shared a roomy, contemporary house in Los Angeles. Penny had distinguished herself early on as the group’s “mother hen,” making sure that everyone was fed and comfortable, reassuring the less confident competitors while they awaited the news of who had been eliminated. She was a force to be reckoned with in the kitchen, having grown up as a farm girl who spent her free time entering her baked goods into state fairs, festivals and cookbook contests.
The three contestants sat around the dinner table speculating about what the following day’s theme might be.
“I wish they’d do a dairy theme,” Penny mused. “You should just see what I can do with fresh whipped cream,” she winked.
“I’d really rather that they’d propose something a bit more edgy,” Simon replied. “I’m tired of trying to figure out new twists for old fashioned recipes. I wish they’d suggest something like a dinner cupcake, or something that requires non-traditional ingredients,” he said, sipping an iced tea.
“I’m just relieved that I’ve been able to come up with something original for each round,” Missy shrugged. “I guess all of those years of coming up with unique Cupcakes of the Day are finally paying off,” she smiled a faraway smile, thinking of her two shops. Cheryl and Grayson were doing a fantastic job of keeping the LaChance store running during her absence, and Ben and his grad school buddy Chris were holding up their end quite well at the Dellville shop. Her friend Echo popped into both locations regularly, offering to lend a helping hand if needed, and Missy was relieved that things were being handled with the utmost of care at both locations.
“Well, I’d say so!” Penny agreed enthusiastically. “When I see your presentations to the judges, they look so good, I want to sneak over and grab a bite,” she chuckled. “Obviously I sample my own work a bit too often,” she joked, patting her ample belly.
“All I know is that after this competition is over, I don’t want to even look at another cupcake for a couple of weeks,” Simon remarked, shaking his head.
“Well, that might make it difficult if you win,” Missy teased. She’d seen the artistic precision of his work and had made mental notes of things that she could do in her shops that were similar. He was truly gifted, and it wouldn’t surprise her at all if he won the competition. The interesting thing is that the most cutthroat competitors among them were the first to be eliminated, and for that, Missy was secretly glad. The three who were left were kind to one another and treated each other with courtesy and respect, rather than the sneering suspicion that the other two contestants had affected.
“I don’t think there’s much chance of that with you two around,” he grinned across the table at Missy and Penny.
“It’ll be interesting to see who that persnickety judge, Kelvin Michaels decides to humiliate in this round,” Penny worried. “He was just brutal to the two that were eliminated.”
“Yeah, I noticed that both times, the poor saps that Kelvin verbally eviscerated, were the ones who ended up going home,” Simon nodded. “We’ll see who he ravages tomorrow.”
Chapter 7
Missy, Penny and Simon climbed into the oversized black SUV that ferried them back and forth between the studio and their living quarters, each feeling a degree of stress and anticipation. The procedure for the show was that, once the contestants arrived, their cell phones were taken so that they couldn’t search the internet for ideas or help, and their theme for the day was given. Once they’d been briefed on the theme, they were turned loose in an ingredient store that had every imaginable food item under the sun. They had ten minutes to select their items and return to the SUV, ready to bake.
“Your theme for today, my dear Cupcake Cutthroats,” Kelia spoke solemnly as the three remaining contestants tried not to sweat under the glare of the studio lights. “…is…Sensual and Sexy.” Before she could help it, Missy cracked up, covering her mouth with her hand as the judges raised their collective eyebrows at her outburst.
“Sorry,” she said, blushing furiously in front of the all-seeing eye of the camera. Her staff back home, along with Echo and Chas, had watched every episode, encouraging her every step of the way, and assuring her that she hadn’t looked at all ridiculous on national television. She wondered briefly if that would still be the case after today. Pulling herself together, she began formulating an idea in her mind for a cupcake that would clearly send a sensual and sexy message. Drawing heavily upon her experience of flavors while on vacation with Chas in the Caribbean, her inspiration exploded and she couldn’t wait to get to the ingredient store.
Dashing out of the SUV with her eco-friendly cloth shopping bag in hand, Missy headed straight for the spice aisle, as did her competitors. Fortunately they all selected different ingredients, and hurried quickly to other sections of the store to procure the remaining items needed. Missy made her way back to the SUV first, making certain to keep her bag tightly closed so that her competitors wouldn’t see her items and change their plans of attack. The basic ingredients, sugar, flour, etc…were stocked in the commercial kitchen, but specialty flours, sugars, salts and more were available at the ingredient store and Missy had taken full advantage of the selections throughout the competition.
Back in the kitchen, the bakers unloaded their ingredients and went to work, each trying to hide their efforts from the others. The room was filled with the sound of whirring, grinding and mixing and the intermingled scents were heavenly.
Missy began by adding freshly ground vanilla bean and finely chopped hot red pepper to her basic white cake batter. Her idea for the cupcake was to create something that was a perfect blend of hot and sweet, with a compelling texture and stunning appearance, making it a sensory delight. For the frosting, she was blending freshly ground Costa Rican coffee beans into a silky vanilla buttercream frosting, and planned to sprinkle the lightest touch of red pepper on top, capping the creation off with a sugar glass free-form sculpture tinted with red food coloring. She had tied her often unruly blonde curls back into a ponytail, putting a hair net over it, just in case, and was thankful that the net kept stray tendrils from sneaking down onto her forehead. Feeling a bead of sweat roll down her spine under the hot lights, Missy hoped that it didn’t show through the cotton fabric of the black chef’s tunics that they were required to wear.
“Ten minutes,” Martin Cambridge, the young hipster judge warned, just as Missy was sprinkling coffee grounds and red pepper flakes around her cupcakes on their square black presentation plate and adding the sugar glass to the fluffy but firm frosting. She had tasted another cupcake from the batch and found it to be perfectly balanced, so she smiled with satisfaction, knowing that she had achieved exactly what she’d set out to do. Her presentation, taste and originality were spot on, and she was excited for the judges to try her latest treat.
“Time!” Martin shouted, holding up a stopwatch and causing the contestants to stop moving.
Simon’s name was selected to present first, and he carefully placed his cupcakes in front of each judge. His presentation was beautiful – a dark chocolate cupcake laced with fresh ginger and topped with a port wine reduction that had been whipped into a chocolate mousse frosting, garnished with a cocoa candy mantilla fan which glittered with burgundy sugar crystals. The judges each tasted thei
r cupcake, chewing thoughtfully and making notes on the pads in front of them. Simon explained his thought process, as well as the steps he’d taken to create his “A Night of Wine and Chocolate” cupcakes, and returned to his spot under the lights.
Missy was next, and she smiled with confidence as she placed her creations in front of the judges. Most of them smiled in return, with the exception of Martin, who seemed rather bored with the process, and Kelvin, who appeared incapable of cracking a smile. When asked to speak, she stepped forward.
“I’d like to present “Cupcakes Caliente,” inspired by a lovely vacation in the Caribbean,” she said proudly, indicating the decadent-looking cupcakes in front of the judges. She explained the use of exotic ingredients, her intended balance between taste, texture and appearance, and why they blend of flavors were selected. After her presentation the judges bit into the pieces of art that she had created, and she was delighted to see looks of pleased surprise. From her place in the contestant lineup, she celebrated silently…until she heard an awful sound.
Kelvin Michaels had a violent coughing fit, his entire face turning red. Kelia reached over, concerned, and patted him on the back. Martin refilled the unfortunate man’s water glass as he gasped and choked, trying to breathe naturally. Missy looked on, panicking and hoping that the judge would be okay. Francesca signaled the camera man to go to a commercial break, and in the meantime, Kelvin took several deep breaths and was finally able to recover, shooting Missy hateful looks as he wrote his notes. Simon and Penny regarded her with pity, thanking their lucky stars that he had choked on her cupcake rather than theirs.
Filming resumed, and Penny presented her “Cinfully Cinsational Cinnamon” cupcakes, which, although pretty, seemed to Missy to be somewhat ordinary, with no exotic ingredients or spice blends. When Penny returned to her spot, the contestants were instructed to wait in a backstage room (per protocol), while the judges discussed and deliberated. When they came back, each judge would give their feedback to each contestant, and one of them would be eliminated. It was a nerve-wracking time of speculation and worry for the contestants while they waited backstage for the whims of the judges to decide their fate.
Simon was first, and his comments were mostly positive, although Kelia mentioned a preponderance of ginger, and had the other judges nodding in agreement. Missy was next, receiving rave reviews from Tim Gilbert and Kelia, and an enthusiastic thumbs-up from Martin. Kelvin Michaels had elected to give his feedback last, and Missy braced herself, consciously making certain to hold her chin high, and firmly resolved not to cry, no matter what. She was a proud, strong, Southern woman and she would handle whatever came her way with dignity and grace.
“I have never in my life met a dessert that I swore was attempting murder,” the dour judge remarked, raising an eyebrow at Missy. “Which wouldn’t necessarily be such an awful thing if it at least had been an item worth tasting,” his eyes narrowed as he pierced her with his gaze. “What on earth were you thinking?” he demanded without waiting for an answer. “You gave a fantastic presentation that was all about balance and a perfect mix of flavors, and I’m sorry to say, in that regard you failed miserably. I find it impossible to enjoy the flavor of a dish that is doing its best to burn the tongue right out of my mouth,” he ranted. “I love spicy food, and this cupcake nearly killed me,” he shook his head. “Truthfully, after having seen your performance during the rest of the competition, I had really expected more from you. I couldn’t be more disappointed,” he finally dismissed her with a rude wave of his hand.
Missy felt as though a part of her had died. Not only had she been humiliated on national television, but she’d never received such scathing criticism on her baking in her entire life. What she loved most about her profession was the fact that her creations brought people joy. Clearly, her effort had produced the opposite result for Kelvin Michaels. She watched him empty his water glass after giving snarling contemptuous feedback to poor, trembling Penny, and the sweet, compassionate soul offered him a breath mint from a tin in her pocket. Snatching the entire tin from her, the irascible judge popped two mints into his mouth, crunched them between his teeth and took two more, pocketing the rest for later use.
The other judges were far more kind to the shy woman from Minnesota, but had critical comments regarding originality and creativity, leaving her to return to her spot in the lineup with chin quivering. Missy reached over and squeezed her competitor’s hand, hoping to bring some measure of comfort as the judges surveyed them carefully. Tim Gilbert pushed back his chair and stood, regarding each of them in turn as he summarized the positives and negatives of each person’s presentation. By the time he finished his recap, they were each beginning to wonder if they were standing on the stage for the last time.
“Simon,” Tim addressed the cool-as-a-cucumber Brit. “You have made it to the final Cutthroat competition – congratulations,” he said with a brief smile. Simon nearly collapsed with relief, and exited the stage, leaving Missy and Penny standing side by side, looking at each other and the judge awkwardly. Missy had already made up her mind to be strong if she was the one eliminated, but her stomach knotted with stress anyway. Tim looked back and forth at her and Penny, drawing out the selection, making minutes seem like years as they trembled with anticipation.
“Penny,” Tim turned to the plump, jovial woman. Missy’s heart sunk to her feet as she prepared to graciously congratulate her Midwestern competitor. “Your performance until now has been just good enough to keep you in the running. You have potential, but in this challenge, you failed to fulfill our expectations in every area. Your cupcake was missing the essential elements of originality, creativity and a unique presentation, so it is the decision of the judges that you have not met the standard to make it to the final round.” As Penny dissolved into tears, he turned to a stunned Missy. “Melissa Gladstone, you have made it to the final Cutthroat competition – congratulations.”
Missy felt a moment of searing pity for Penny as the utterly defeated woman waddled rapidly from the stage, a hand over her eyes, hiding from the camera, but as the audience stood to their feet, applauding madly, she realized the enormity of what had just happened and started shaking with surprise and relief.
Chapter 8
Chas sent a beautiful floral arrangement congratulating Missy and letting her know how proud he was and how much he missed her. Tears welled in her eyes, wanting desperately to be in his arms. Ben and Cheryl, the managers of her shops, called to congratulate her and let her know that business was booming due to her popularity on the show, and teased her about needing to open up a couple more locations to keep up with demand. She and Simon were given a day off to recuperate from the extreme amounts of stress before filming the final competition. Simon had holed up in his room, burying his nose in a novel, and Missy chose to soak up the southern California sun beside the pool.
She was drowsing on a lounger, a giant pitcher of iced tea on a small table beside her, when a shadow passed over her, blocking the sun. Thinking that a cloud was merely passing by, she didn’t bother opening her eyes.
“Melissa Gladstone?” a deep, gruff voice demanded, looming over her.
Opening her eyes and shielding them with her hand, Missy saw two uniformed police officers standing over her. “Oh!” she exclaimed, sitting up and feeling self-conscious in her swimsuit. “Hello…yes, I’m Missy Gladstone,” she smiled uncertainly. “What can I do for you?”
“We need to ask you a few questions, would you mind coming with me ma’am?” the officer who had spoken first requested.
“Oh, well, yes…of course,” she replied, gathering her cover-up around her, slipping on her sandals and taking a sip of iced tea. “What’s this all about, Officer?” she asked, standing and following him and his silent partner through the pool area and back into the house.
“Detective Fernandez will be able to answer your questions, ma’am,” the officer replied tonelessly. “Right this way,” he opened a door for her, leadin
g her into the den. At the far end of the open-concept house, in the living room, Simon sat with a man in a suit, looking bewildered, head in his hands. Wondering what on earth had happened, and feeling more than a bit vulnerable wearing nothing but a swimsuit and cover-up, she sat in the chair that the officer indicated, straining to try to hear snippets of Simon’s conversation.
“As soon as the detective is done talking with Mr. Reynolds,” the officer inclined his head toward Simon, “he’ll come over to speak with you. Just sit tight, it shouldn’t be too long.” Without giving her a chance to respond, or ask questions, he and his partner headed for the door that they’d come through to enter the conference room. Desperately wishing that she could talk to Chas, Missy silently berated herself for having left her cell phone in her room. The detective finished up with Simon, turned to a blank page in his notebook and walked from the living room to the den, taking a seat across the coffee table from her. Despite being more than a bit bewildered about what was happening, Missy couldn’t help but notice the striking resemblance that Detective Fernandez bore to a teen idol who had played a California highway patrolman back in the 80’s. Trying hard not to stare, she smiled when he introduced himself.
“What’s going on, Detective?” she asked, innocently, hoping that Simon wasn’t in some sort of trouble.
“That’s what we’re trying to determine, Ms. Gladstone,” he replied grimly.
“Oh, please call me Missy,” she interjected, receiving a funny look from the detective.
“Fine. Where were you last night, immediately following the end of the show, Missy?” he asked, pen poised.
