Soufflés at Sunrise

by M. J. O'Shea

  “Okay,” he finally said. He wished he’d been more prepared. Kai liked to be prepared. Instead he felt stupid, like he should know more about what was going on. Which was, of course, stupid. But Kristen had a way about her with all that calm efficiency, with her ponytail and cell phone clipped to her waistband—probably permanently so, if Kai knew anything about the life of a TV producer’s assistant.

  “Here’s your key. Feel free to spend a couple hours unpacking and relaxing. There’s a great rooftop patio for the apartments on the penthouse level to share. I’m sure you’ll love it. We’ll be back to get everyone at six to go down to the studio for formal introductions.”

  He nodded, not wanting to say “okay” again, and thanked her before heading toward the bank of glass elevators. It probably wasn’t the time to mention glass elevators always made him feel like he was about to throw up. Better keep that to himself and close his eyes.

  Bryant Tower was famously one of the nicest buildings in LA, with luxury apartments that catered to expensive people with very expensive taste. Lots of business people, the odd minor celeb. It was a far cry from the one bedroom he’d left not even an hour earlier.

  He hauled his duffel bags onto his shoulder. They weren’t very heavy. Just some casual clothes and his toiletries. For all of the filming sequences there would be a wardrobe on set, so he didn’t need to take any of his own clothes for that. In fact, they’d been discouraged from bringing too many clothes, since the network couldn’t show any brand names. In any situation when the cameras would be around, they had to wear something from the wardrobe department. He guessed it wasn’t board shorts and a pair of flip-flops, which is what Kai usually lived in outside work. Getting all dressed up for the cameras wasn’t going to be fun. But worth it. Everything was worth it.

  The producers had told him there was a limit on the personal items he could bring with him to the apartment in Bryant Tower; apparently they didn’t want the carefully designed interior messed with by tons of junk. Since he hadn’t been in LA very long, Kai didn’t have much in the way of possessions anyway. The only things he’d brought with him and hadn’t left behind in his apartment were a picture of his mother and father and Lei, his sister, in a silver frame, and his grandfather’s abalone shell lighter that had been passed down to him. They were two of the few things in the world Kai got sentimental about.

  When the god-awful elevator ride was done, he stepped out into a long hallway with thick, plush carpets that muffled the noise of his footsteps. Their condo was only one of two on the top floor. He didn’t meet anyone else on the short journey. The place was almost spookily quiet.

  Kai turned the lock, then pushed the door open.

  A champagne bottle popped and he ducked instinctively.

  Someone laughed, but he didn’t know who. The place was packed with people. Twelve of them, to be exact, but the assistant had been right. The condo was huge. They shouldn’t have too much trouble together for the weeks they were there. Especially as the place emptied out.

  “I can’t believe you ducked! It wasn’t even coming in your direction,” Chase said, grinning at him as one of the other guys tipped bubbling liquid into a tall champagne flute.

  Chase. Damn, he was still adorable. He’d remembered exactly right. Kai smiled back. “Good thing I’m not a nervous wreck, right?” he joked.

  Since he’d met all the other contestants at the first audition, he wasn’t surprised to see Carson and Chase back, or Al or Polly, although how Aaron—who Kai had mentally dubbed The Hot Mess—had made it through was anyone’s guess. Probably for drama. Carson was some hotshot from New York City who had rubbed Kai the wrong way more than once during auditions. Sharing an apartment with him was going to be fantastic, Kai was sure. He rolled his eyes to himself.

  He abandoned his duffels by the door and joined everyone else for a toast. He sat down next to Chase on one of the comfortable couches.

  “So what do you think?” one of the women asked, extending her arm to the window and the stunning view out over West Hollywood it offered. She was kind of a hippy, with long straggly hair and sensible shoes. Kai didn’t remember her name. Truthfully, as cocky as he’d been about his detail skills back at the audition, he didn’t remember much about the other contestants very clearly, other than Chase. Damn. He sure as hell did remember him.

  “Not bad,” Kai said with a grin. He emptied the glass of champagne and set it back on the table.

  “You’d think these cheapskates would get more places, though,” Aaron said. Kai tried not to let his disdain show. He really didn’t like that douche.

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s only three bedrooms,” Carson said, filling in. “Four beds in the first two, five in the third.”

  “We were just talking about why they’d do that,” Chase said. Kai let his eyes roam over the khaki shorts, casual Sperrys, and fitted denim shirt. Even though Chase was a country boy, he definitely knew how to show off his best features.

  “Probably so we get so pissed off with each other that we try to kill each other on set,” Breon grumbled. Kai remembered him too. Tall, dark, and very intense. He had nearly perfect dark chocolate skin, a gorgeous smile, a head of wild curls that he kept under an orange bandana, and a stare that would intimidate the hell out of any competitor. It was probably best the two of them were in different rooms. They might get along really well, but two brands of intense type-A personality could be a recipe for disaster, and from what Kai remembered, Breon had just that. Chase topped off his glass with more champagne, which made Kai chuckle grimly. He could use more alcohol. Or a bed next to Chase’s. Or just space in Chase’s bed—that would work too.

  “Sorry,” Breon added after a moment. “I haven’t had to share a room before, well, ever. I might not be the best roommate.”

  “You sort of got stuck with the bed by the door, Kai,” Aaron added. “Sorry about that. First come, first served.”

  “That’s fine,” Kai said.

  He would have preferred to pick his bed and his bed neighbor, but given the circumstances… whatever. It was too early to start rubbing people the wrong way, and he was there. That was really all that mattered.

  While the others kept pouring champagne and talking, subtly playing intimidation games with allusions to pastry schools and honors in newspapers and awards on blogs, Kai decided he didn’t feel like getting into a bragging contest, and it was probably best to explore his new surroundings anyway. He liked knowing exactly where things were. The apartment was, as the others had said, luxurious. And huge, thankfully, which would hopefully mean they wouldn’t spend the next few months living on top of each other.

  He went to the kitchen first out of instinct and ran his hand over the granite work surfaces and chrome fittings. There was a huge fridge—that was stocked—and plenty of cooking gadgets, if any of them had the energy to cook after a day at the studio making desserts.

  Kai chugged his champagne and left the glass next to the sink, idly wondered if they had housekeeping, then helped himself to a beer from the fridge.

  There was a bathroom opposite the bedroom he would share with the three other guys, slate tiles and more chrome, and their bedroom was admittedly fairly big. A whole wall of windows opened up onto the Hollywood hills, and the slight L shape meant the closets were separate to the beds. Closets. Plural. Again, a good thing if people were going to not kill each other.

  The four beds were squished together, not too close—there was still a nightstand between each one—but closer than Kai would have liked. He guessed Chase was in one of the beds opposite his own from the stuff that had been tossed on it. Sleeping next to the door would mean he’d likely be woken every time someone went to use the bathroom, not that there was much he could do about that.

  Never complain. Nobody likes the bitch.

  Kai sipped his beer and made his way back to the living area to take everything in. The male-female split was eight guys to five girls, which surprised K
ai a little. He thought the producers would have wanted more women represented, but the ones who had been picked were good, especially Polly, from what he remembered of her. Not as good as he was, though. None of them were. He figured it would only take a few weeks to have everything sewn up.

  The show would run the same this year as it had previously; there would be two smaller tasks to start, where the stakes were smaller but still significant—time added or taken away from the main challenge, for example, or master classes with top chefs. Then the final challenge, where someone would be sent home at the end.

  On previous seasons each week had been themed: poultry week, game week, French cuisine, South African—anything that gave the viewers something new. Since this season was all desserts, Kai wasn’t sure how the producers would set up each challenge. He guessed they would find out soon enough.

  What Kai hadn’t known was how the TV world made all of this happen. Burned got aired once a week, but shooting an episode didn’t always take a whole week. Most of the time, they shot an episode over three, maybe four days, meaning they had time to do all the voiceovers and interviews that would be peppered through the hour-long show when it aired.

  For once Kai didn’t throw himself into the conversation around him and sat back instead, watching the others. It was cold, maybe, for him to be assessing them as his competition already, but he really, really wanted to win Burned.

  It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and one that could potentially set him up for the rest of his life if he played it right. Cooking and baking had been his passion for so long, the thought of actually making it in the big leagues on his own and not just working behind the scenes for someone else was intoxicating. He was so close.

  THE FIRST night in Bryant Tower, Chase barely slept at all. That was unusual for him—his mom had always said one of his very best skills was being able to sleep anywhere. But being in the room with the other guys, not knowing whether they were supposed to be friends or competition, had set him on edge. That and Kai.

  Hey, Wisconsin. Glad to see that you’re back.

  Chase shuddered at the memory of Kai’s gentle teasing. There was no point in denying that he was attracted to his new roommate—like, really attracted. Kai was different from the guys Chase had dated before; he was all easy attitude, strength, and confidence, and the moody edge Chase found oddly hot. Kai was tall, his skin sun-kissed and richly warm, a contrast to Chase’s own milky paleness.

  It was more than a hot body and a laid-back attitude, though. Kai had something extra about him, something Chase couldn’t quite put his finger on. Whatever it was, he felt like Princess Peaches whenever she got her paws on some catnip. He wanted more.

  Chase tried to ignore it—both Kai and his unease in a new situation. Everything that was keeping him from falling the fuck asleep. He rolled over in bed, punched the pillow, and sighed heavily as he dropped his head back down. On the nightstand, his clock glowed softly—4:21 a.m. They had a meeting scheduled with the Burned producers at nine, and there was a shuttle bus picking them up at eight so they could get to the studios in time. Chase wasn’t sure what the meeting was about, and he was worried about that too. At least he only had a few more hours to go before he had to get up and get ready for the meeting. There were small favors.

  He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, then forced himself to breathe deeply: in through his nose, out through his mouth. It was something his sister had taught him, a calming technique, and the next thing he knew, his alarm was beeping quietly.

  Chase hit the top to silence it, then rolled over to see who was awake already. The shower was already running, door open. The smell of shower gel wafting in on the delicate steam. Someone obviously didn’t care if they were seen naked. And guess whose bed was empty?

  Great.

  The shower stopped suddenly and Chase pressed the heel of his hand to his quick and very embarrassing erection, trying to quell it while Kai walked back into the room all casual-like with a white towel wrapped around his waist. Chase closed his eyes, chanced a look at his clock again, then rolled out of bed to swap places in the bathroom. None of the others were awake yet and he wondered what had tempted Kai out of bed so early. They had plenty of time.

  Unlike Kai, Chase locked the bathroom door behind himself and turned the water on. He took his time in the shower, relaxing… dealing with things. The thought that Kai had been in there right before him, naked and golden and wet, definitely helped.

  By the time he was done, the others were awake. Aaron gave him a long look. Probably for taking forever in the shower.

  “Sorry, man. Thought everyone else was asleep still.”

  “It’s fine.” Aaron grabbed his towel and huffed off to the bathroom. Obviously not fine.

  Chase crossed to his closet and pulled out jeans and a T-shirt. They weren’t filming—at least it wasn’t on the schedule—so he could wear what he felt like wearing.

  Considering there were thirteen fairly accomplished chefs living in the apartment, the breakfast of coffee and a banana was almost laughable. Chase ate while sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping at the large mug of coffee Kai had put in front of him. Kai seemed like a quiet morning person too, which Chase appreciated. The room filled slowly.

  “Hey, if everyone’s ready, the shuttle’s probably here,” one of the girls said. She was in the middle of pulling her dark, shiny straight hair into a ponytail.

  Everyone started gathering their things and shuffling toward the door. Polly. Chase remembered her—she was terrifyingly competent in the kitchen from what little he’d seen. Focused. Intense. Scary. In a social setting, she seemed different, though, quiet and reserved. He hadn’t remembered her talking much the night before. Not unlike Kai.

  Quit making everything about Kai.

  Easier said than done.

  Chase turned his attention back to Polly as they made their way to the shuttles. She was young to be on the show, and the producers had made a big deal of that. Only nineteen and something of a baking prodigy in her local community in Boston, she’d opened her own boutique bakery a week after her eighteenth birthday. It helped that she looked young too, Chase imagined. It made the whole story even more exciting for the cameras. She was petite, Asian, and had round cheeks that made her look like she was still carrying a little baby fat. He wasn’t looking forward to getting schooled by someone who looked like they should still be in school. He was smart enough to realize that was altogether likely.

  As they rode the elevator, one of the other girls said good morning and started chatting happily about how she was used to early mornings, since she had a ways to go on her school run. Chase focused on her intently, her name pricking at the back of his memory.

  “Are you okay?” Kai murmured under his breath as they made their way to where the shuttle would pick them up.

  “I’ve forgotten her name,” Chase said. He pointed to the long, blonde ponytail in front of them.

  “Jennifer? No, Jenna,” Kai said.

  “Jenna,” Chase repeated, determined not to forget it again. “Thanks.”

  “No worries.” Kai gave him a sweet grin.

  THE BURNED producers had moved from their regular offices in Studio City to the same huge sound stage where the show was filmed, so they had easy access to what was happening on set. There was a large, imposing boardroom the group was led past. It was empty save a table, chairs, and what looked like a projection screen.

  Apparently we’re not important enough to be in there.

  Chase somehow didn’t mind. That room looked like the place all sorts of unpleasant things happened. They filed into the show’s green room, where they could relax when they weren’t filming. Kristen was there, and a man with stern eyes, as well as Tommy, the show’s bigwig producer. Chase felt like he was going to close in on himself. He was never good in pressure situations.

  “How are you feeling?” one of the guys asked. Al. Yeah, his name was Al. He was a big bear of a guy, seemed reall
y nice.

  “Not very good at waiting. Even less good at pressure situations.”

  Al chuckled. “And you decided to do this?” He nudged Chase. “You’ll be fine, kid. It’ll just take some getting used to.”

  Getting used to. Right.

  “Excellent,” Tommy said, looking around the group when they were settled in a smaller conference room. “For those of you who don’t remember me from the tryouts, I’m Tommy Johnson, and I’m the lead producer for Burned. We called you together today so we could discuss your characters for this season.”

  “Characters?” Chase said. Shit. I interrupted the scary producer guy. Probably not the best plan.

  Tommy paused in his speech and gave him a look Chase thought might actually melt his skin.

  “Yes,” he said slowly. “Characters. Shows like Burned work because there’s a range of different personalities involved. It’s partly about the products you put out and how we judge them, but nobody would care about the competition at all if they didn’t care about the people in it. Viewers keep watching because they feel a connection to you guys. They get to know you. It’s that which makes them tune in week after week.”

  Chase nodded, feeling stupid. He’d never thought about it that way. But he could name most of the prominent contestants of the past few years. There had to be a reason for that.

  Tommy went on to talk about other things, and Chase tuned out. He didn’t really like the idea of playing a character on a TV show. It made him nervous. He wasn’t an actor at all—he couldn’t lie to save his life—and he was sure any attempts at acting would be terrible. People would surely see straight through him, then hate him for being a big fake.

  When he was handed a flash card with his name printed at the top, Chase scanned it, not really surprised at what he saw. “Chase Christiansen. Good looking, all-American sweetheart. ‘Honest,’ ‘reliable,’ ‘hardworking.’ Rivalry with Kailua Chin.”

  There was something in the way three of those points were written that annoyed Chase. He was honest and reliable and hardworking, and he didn’t see those traits as something to be mocked or put in quotations like it was a character he had to play. Maybe in this world, people like him were looked down on. The last part was what threw him, though.