Where There's a Whisk

by Sarah J. Schmitt

  Oh, right. “Thank you for this second chance,” I say to the judges and Jessica. “I won’t let you down.”

  At least I am not going home, and I still have a chance to prove I belong here. I just need to take this one step at a time. Tomorrow is the Landmark Challenge. If I keep my mind focused on that, maybe I won’t get caught up worrying about elimination. As long as I’m here, I still have a chance. But if I don’t up my game, I’ll be heading back to Florida for a lifetime of making pies for family reunions and truckers who stop in at the diner.

  When the red light on the camera clicks off, everyone—cast and crew alike—lets out a collective breath and, just like that, the first day is over. Paulie, Hakulani, and Inaaya are at my side in a heartbeat.

  “Are you okay?” Inaaya asks. “I was freaking out.”

  I nod and grin. “I’m still here, right?”

  “Yes, you are,” Paulie says, and he knocks his shoulder gently into mine.

  Just then, a PA strides onto the set, looking over something on her clipboard. “I have your dressing-room assignments. Also, all your luggage has already been taken over to the apartment. You’ll need to be ready to leave the apartment at eight in the morning for the challenge tomorrow.”

  Her eyes scan the page one last time. “That’s it. Let’s go.”

  We follow the PA down a long hall as she points each of us to different dressing rooms. When I hear my name, I peel off from the rest and enter a small room with a couch, a small table, a makeup mirror, and a temporary wardrobe. On the table is a letter with everything I need to know about getting ready for the show and what to do with my clothes when we’re done filming.

  I find a pair of black pants that will become part of my chef uniform when we’re in the studio. Dropping my jacket in the laundry basket as instructed, I tug at the bottom of my shirt to straighten it out. In the corner of the room is a mini-fridge packed with water bottles. Parched from the day of cooking, I grab one and gulp it down.

  A knock at the door breaks the silence.

  “We’re leaving,” the voice on the other side says.

  When I open the door, the rest of the cast is marching by.

  “Hey,” Paulie says, pausing so I can catch up with him. “You okay?”

  I shrug. “I am officially the worst cook here, Angelica thinks my food is bland and insignificant, and I’m probably not even going to last the week.”

  “Yeah, but other than that, are you okay?” he asks with a grin.

  I look at him for a moment before letting out a sigh and then a small laugh. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

  “Good,” he says as we march out of the building and into the roar of New York City at rush hour.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

  I DON’T THINK I REALIZE HOW EXHAUSTED I AM until we load into the bus and head to the apartment. Judging by the yawns and weary expressions on everyone’s faces, I’m not the only one.

  As he stares out the window, Hakulani absentmindedly begins singing under his breath, and I am totally enchanted by his voice. The cameraman sitting in the front seat catches every note. I don’t know about anyone else, but if this world was capable of magic, then his singing would turn the streetlights into palm trees and honking horns into crashing waves.

  When he finishes, Lola is the first to speak, waking from her trance before turning around to get a good look at him. “I have no idea what any of that meant, but if you play the ukulele, I will marry you right here on the spot.”

  Hakulani makes a strumming motion in front of his chest and gives her a smile. “I won’t hold you to that.”

  “Well, could you at least sing me to sleep every night for the rest of my life?” she asks, draping one arm over the seat back and resting her chin on the ledge. “Or is that asking too much considering we just met?”

  “Maybe a little too soon,” Hakulani says, laughing and running his hand through his hair, his elbow lightly brushing my shoulder.

  Lola lets out an acerbated breath and flops down against the seat. “Fine. I guess I understand.”

  “Hang in there, Lola,” I say, reaching over the back of her seat to pat her on the shoulder. “We’re young. There’s still time to find someone who can sing and play the ukulele.”

  “Now you’re just being mean,” she says with a faux huff as she turns and looks out the window.

  “What’s the name of that song?” I ask.

  “Kawaupuahele,” Hakulani replies.

  “Lola’s right. You have an incredible voice.”

  He smiles at me, but before he can say anything, the bus slows to a stop in front of a tall apartment building complete with a doorman. It’s hard enough to believe people really live like this, and it’s even harder to believe that I’m living like this—even if it is for less than a month.

  The PA ushers us to the elevator and swipes a card in front of a round black sensor. She doesn’t even push a button. The elevator just knows what floor to take us to and starts to rise with surprising speed. With each floor we pass, my stomach gets a little tighter. It’s not like I’m afraid of heights or anything, but I don’t know if I’ve ever been this high before. I mean, other than the plane ride here.

  The elevator doors open into what I think is a long hallway, but as soon as I step out and look to my right, I see a living room and I realize that I am completely wrong.

  “Is this entire floor one apartment?” I ask, looking from one end of the hallway to another. The mirror hanging from the wall across from me shows me that I’m not the only one grasping for how to respond.

  “It’s a penthouse, technically,” Dani says, correcting me. “But we’re not even on the Upper East Side, so it hardly counts,” she continues, loud enough for me to hear the disdain in her voice, but I’m too overwhelmed to care.

  “Follow me,” the PA says, leading us out of the elevator and into the apartment. She points to the right. “Living and dining room are that way, kitchen is around the corner, and I’ll show you the bedrooms, and you’ll find out who your roommate will be.”

  Inaaya and I fall in step with each other, grinning with excitement. I’ve heard about fancy New York apartments, and by “heard about,” I mean I’ve seen them on TV. But never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would ever have the chance to live in one. “Can you believe this?” I say to no one in particular.

  “What?” Inaaya asks. “That as part of our being on a reality cooking show we also get to live in a multimillion-dollar apartment—I mean, penthouse? Oh sure. It’s no big deal.” We look at each other before bursting out in giggles. Everyone turns to look at us, and the PA raises one eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

  We stop at a hallway with four doors branching off, and the PA turns around. “There’s one master and three regular bedrooms. The producer has already assigned you to your room, so if you have any questions, you can bring it up with Caitlin. She’ll be here in a little while to do some interviews and talk with each of you about the season.” The PA taps her phone a couple of times. “Roommates are Dani and Lola, Peyton and Inaaya.”

  Inaaya grasps my hand and gives an almost inaudible squeal of excitement.

  “Roomies,” she whispers, and I grin. And I say a silent prayer of thanks that I’m not paired with Dani. It would be great for the ratings, but not good in all other ways possible.

  “For the boys,” the PA continues. “Malik and Adam, and Hakulani and Paulie.” She pulls a set of four bamboo stir sticks from her pocket. “Each pair will draw a straw and the first one to draw the short straw will get the master. Who feels lucky?”

  Hakulani nudges Paulie, who stumbles forward and picks a straw.

  The PA smiles at him. “Sorry, no short straw for you.”

  Inaaya is still holding on to my hand. “You draw,” I say, giving her hand a squeeze.

  As she steps forward, Lola swoops in and snaps the next pick.

  It’s shorter than Paulie’s.

  “Does that mean we get
the master?” Dani asks.

  The PA shakes her head. “They’re all different sizes. You’ll have to wait.”

  Inaaya steps up again and draws ours. It’s longer than Paulie’s. Inaaya gives me an apologetic look.

  “It’s no big deal,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “It’s not like we’re going to be here that much anyway.” Adam and Malik play rock-paper-scissors to see who’s going to draw for them. With Adam losing two out of three, he steps forward to take the last straw. Holding it against Lola’s, it’s obvious that he and Malik aren’t going to be enjoying the master suite, either.

  The PA directs us to take the room at the end of the hall, and Lola and Dani head off to explore their room. “Boys are in the middle. Sorry, guys. You have to share a bathroom. Peyton and Inaaya, you can use the bathroom across from your room.”

  “Is our luggage here?” I ask as Inaaya tugs me toward our room.

  “It’ll be delivered shortly,” the PA assures me over her shoulder as she walks away.

  We pause at the door to our room. “Welcome home,” I say before opening it.

  The room is like something out of one of those high-end store catalogs. Every piece of furniture is in the perfect place, and there are bistro lights running from the light fixture in the center of the ceiling to various points around the room, creating a canopy effect. The closet doors have two full-length mirrors hanging on them and promise a space twice as big than what I have back home. In one corner there’s a cozy, expertly designed seating area with two plush chairs and a side table between them where I can only assume my roommate and I are going to have many heart-to-hearts for the camera. But the pièce de résistance is the pair of twin beds that are adorned with the fluffiest comforters I have ever seen in my life.

  “This is so pretty,” Inaaya says, running her hand along the soft comforter on her bed.

  I nod and take a seat on the bed. I practically sink into it. “Yeah,” is all I can think to say.

  “Let’s go check out the rest of the house,” Inaaya says, pulling me off my bed and down the hall just as Lola swings open the door to her room and pops out her head.

  “Isn’t this great?” she says, opening the door wider.

  I try not to be jealous as I take a quick glance into her room. It’s bigger than ours, but there aren’t any fairy lights. In fact, their room is nice, but neutral. Maybe that’s because it was the one room up for grabs for either the guys or the girls. Well, they can have their space because I like our room better.

  “Can you believe this place?” Lola asks, motioning to the floor-to-ceiling windowpanes. From their room you can see the skyline. “It’s like living in a hot-air balloon.” She pauses and rolls her eyes. “Obviously, it’s a very big hot-air balloon. But we’re high enough that the people almost look like ants.”

  I smile at her excitement. “We’re going to check out the rest of the apartment. Wanna come with us?”

  “Sure,” she says, before turning back toward her room. “Come on, Dani.”

  I resist the urge to sigh. I still haven’t figured Dani out yet. Everyone else, so far, has been open and friendly, but she has been nothing but guarded the whole time. Plus, finding out that she is the daughter of a famous chef makes me pretty suspicious of her motivation. As we head down the hall to the living room, I wonder if there is something that she could be hiding. But that thought is pushed away when I see the view.

  The open floor plan kitchen, dining room, and living room make it easy to enjoy the spectacular view no matter which direction you look. The skyline of New York sprawls before us, and the sun is just now beginning to set, reflecting off the tops of the buildings and making them glitter like jewels.

  “Unbelievable,” someone says from behind us, and we all spin around to see the guys have snuck up behind us. Hakulani’s eyes scan the horizon, before turning to me and continuing, “Don’t you think so?”

  “I do,” I say with a nod and step forward into the room. “Wait, there’s a balcony?” I ask, clapping my hands. As I approach the door, I am aware of gears whirring as the cameras mounted high on the wall spin to follow me. I don’t think there’s a dead spot anywhere in the apartment.

  I step out on the balcony and see two more cameras pointing at us. I expect Hakulani to join me, but instead, Malik squeezes in next to me.

  “Big Brother really is watching, isn’t he?” he says with a laugh.

  “Yeah, but it’s worth it,” I say as I take in the city. “I feel like I should pinch myself.”

  Lola sticks her head out. “This is far enough for me,” she says. “I don’t mind looking at the view, but I prefer to not have my life hanging by just a couple bolts and brackets. Besides, the balcony in our room is bigger.”

  “You have a balcony? In your room?” Malik says.

  Lola grins. “Regret losing the luck of the draw?” she asks him.

  “Maybe,” he admits, “but I think I’ll manage.”

  We follow her back inside and walk through the kitchen. “Isn’t this kind of small?”

  “For New York?” Dani asks in amusement. “No, it’s actually pretty big.”

  “Oh,” I say. “I wonder how much a place like this goes for.”

  Dani crosses her arms over her chest and leans back against the counter. “In this part of the city, somewhere in the ballpark of twenty mil.”

  “No way,” I say.

  “She’s right,” Paulie says as he begins to rack the pool balls on the table located in the space between the dining room table and the sitting area of the living room. “Maybe more.”

  “I don’t think my entire town is worth twenty million dollars.”

  “Well, it is the penthouse,” Dani reminds me.

  I survey the room, not sure that’s enough of an explanation. I mean, a million dollars could do a lot for my town. I can’t imagine what twenty million would do.

  The more I think about it, the more it actually makes me a little sick to my stomach. Someone who can afford to live here probably doesn’t know what it’s like to make payment arrangements just to keep your power on. They probably don’t even pay their own bills. Some guy named William Barnswallow III probably does it for them.

  I open another door, expecting to find a closet but instead find something that takes me by surprise. “Hey, check this out. Stairs.”

  I hear the pool cues clatter on the table behind me as everyone rushes over.

  Hakulani peers over my head. “Where do you think they go?”

  “My guess is up,” I say.

  “Yeah, I got that, but what’s up there?”

  I grin. “Only one way to find out.”

  I step into the stairwell and jog up the stairs. At the top is a steel door. I push on it, surprised to find it unlocked, and step out into the muggy evening air. “Holy crap,” I say, clapping my hands together. “It’s a rooftop patio.”

  And not just any rooftop patio—it’s an apartment-sized outdoor living and entertainment area. Everyone files out, exploring the bonus space and chatting excitedly. Around the roof are several seating areas. I move to the one at the farthest corner and sit down on a large, curved couch, putting my feet up on the edge of the gas firepit. Tilting my face to the sky, I take a second to pinch myself—I’m not dreaming.

  Then the little voice deep inside me cautions that, just like any dream, it’s one that I know I’ll have to wake up from someday. But, thankfully, that day is not today.

  CHAPTER

  NINE

  WE HAVEN’T BEEN ON THE ROOF LONG WHEN WE hear the door open.

  “Who could that be?” I ask, shifting to mentally count us. “Aren’t we all out here?”

  Leaning forward to get a better look at the door, I see Caitlin Merriweather, the show’s producer, sauntering toward us, her high heels clicking on the stone floor.

  “Hey, Caitlin,” Dani says, jumping up and running over to hug the new arrival.

  The rest of us aren’t as quick to move, but it doesn�
��t take long for us to circle up around her.

  “How are you all settling in?” she asks. Without waiting for us to answer, she looks around and adds, “I see you found the rooftop. Isn’t it amazing?”

  “It’s pretty awesome,” Adam agrees.

  “Well, we wanted you guys to have a place to relax when you aren’t filming. I assume we did a good job?”

  “It’s great,” Lola gushes. “I did have a question, though. When are we getting keys so we can get back into the apartment if we decide to go out?”

  Caitlin looks perplexed. “Did the PA not tell you?”

  “Tell us what?” Adam asks.

  “When you aren’t filming, you need to stay in the apartment.”

  “What?” I say as a chorus of groans and shouts erupts around me.

  “You’re locking us in when we aren’t filming?” Adam asks again after looking around at everyone.

  “We can’t have you being exposed to the public before the show airs,” Caitlin explains. “Besides, you’ll be busy filming during the week, and we’ve got some special surprises planned for the weekends. It won’t be that bad.”

  “I was hoping to see the city,” Inaaya says quietly.

  Caitlin smiles at her. “And you will. Jessica is going to tell you more about this tomorrow. Really, it’s more for the audience than anyone else, but you’ll be doing what we’re calling Landmark Challenges. These outings will give you a chance to see the city and also, if you’re the winner, earn an advantage for the elimination round.”

  “What are we supposed to do for food?” Malik asks.

  I realize I’m so tired that I can’t remember the last time I ate something.

  “During the week you can have dinner delivered here. There are dozens of menus in the kitchen, and we have accounts set up with all of them. Of course, during filming you’ll have full access to craft services. And you’ll find the kitchen is well stocked.

  “If you have special requests, make sure you get those to the PAs after the last elimination challenge of the week. And of course you can always order in.” Caitlin must have realized she was losing us because she quickly changes the subject. “I’ll make sure the PAs talk to you about this tomorrow. What I want to do is show each of you something very special.” She scans the group until her eyes land on me. “Peyton, let’s start with you.”