Soufflés at Sunrise (5 page)

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.

T
HE
B
URNED
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 really 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.

The others were all talking to each other or Tommy and Kristen. Chase looked up and immediately met Kai’s gaze.

“Rivalry?” he mouthed.

Kai shrugged and nodded. “I have no idea,” he said in a low voice.

A rivalry? With the most gorgeous guy Chase had seen in a long time? Great. Fantastic. He had to ask.

“Hey, Tommy. I have a question about this rivalry thing. I don’t even really know Kai but so far we’ve gotten along fine. How are we rivals?”

Tommy grinned. “The viewers like to see some fireworks; the more the better. I thought you and Kai would make a great TV rivalry. You come from down-home simple goodness, he’s all about complexity and finesse. We thought that would be a great place for some contention to come from.”

“But I don’t have a problem with him,” Chase protested. Far from it.
Far
from it.

“It won’t take too much effort for you two to manufacture a few little spats on camera, will it?” Tommy asked. He and Kristen stared Chase down. Hard.

Fuckfuckfuck.

“We can do it,” Kai told them. “We’ll figure something out between us before the first day of filming.”

Which was very soon. Two days, to be exact.

“Excellent. You’ll find a folder with your name on it. Those will have your individual contracts. Feel free to use our offices to forward them to your lawyer if you feel it’s necessary. I can guarantee you that there’s nothing funny in there.”

Chase doubted it. As soon as he heard he was fake fighting with Kai all season, he somehow knew underhanded background tactics were going to be par for the course.

T
HE
CONTESTANTS
were offered the opportunity to take lunch with the show’s three celebrity judges—like they’d turn that down. It was only in the cafeteria, not anywhere fancy, but still. It was a good opportunity to meet the people who’d be judging them all season.

The judges were even different than they had been for the other seasons of
Burned
. They’d replaced the usual head judge with Basil Shrewsbury. Honestly, Chase didn’t have a clue who the guy was, but apparently he was big in the British food scene. He looked like a stuck-up pain in the ass to Chase. He figured it’d be a waste of time to try to be nice to that guy. He’d just have to impress him, hopefully, with his desserts when the time came.

Nicolette Anderson was the second judge. Chase knew her.
Everyone
knew her. She was a B-list actress more famous for showing her goods than any real acting talent. She was overgenerous and round in all the right places, poured into a dress that left pretty much zero to the imagination. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head, and currently she was in the middle of giving Kai a very suggestive once-over. Chase relaxed his hands, which were clenched into fists.

The third judge, Emilio, the man who needed no last name, was a food blogger with a huge following. He traveled around the country, finding hidden gems who used local fresh ingredients to bring to the forefront. He didn’t seem bad. He was young, a little nerdy, with thick glasses and an unkempt raccoonish head of hair. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, unlike the other judges, and didn’t seem to be trying to stick his face down Kai’s pants. At least he got points for that.

The tables were loaded with pasta dishes, some fancy-looking tortilla chips with various dips, and pitchers of tea and lemonade. Chase found a seat at the table where Kai was already seated. That wasn’t a coincidence, though Chase would never admit it. Catnip. Seriously. One by one, they were asked to introduce themselves to the judges and say a little about themselves. It was one of Chase’s absolute least favorite things to do, having to pretend like there was something interesting about himself to discuss. Even worse was actually having to say it in front of a group.

“Hi,” he said when it came round to his turn. “Um, I’m Chase. Twenty-eight. I’m from Wisconsin…. I own my own organic ice creamery—the Old House Creamery in Madison.”

Emilio gave him an encouraging smile. Of the three judges, Chase thought he’d probably connect best with Emilio—they seemed to have similar views on cooking and sourcing locally and good, honest flavors. Nicolette was a flirt and avoided all the food in favor of a diet soda that might or might not have been spiked. She seemed uninterested in most of the show’s contestants, although she paid far too much attention to Kai for Chase’s liking.

Basil Shrewsbury was an asshole. That was almost gospel. The head judge on nearly every competition show was always an asshole. To people outside the food world, he wasn’t exactly famous. Being on
Burned
would probably make his star rise. If the typical head judge was anything to go by, Basil would become well-known for shouting and making the
Burned
contestants cry. Chase thought Basil was probably looking forward to it quite a lot—the crying part, of course.

Chase found he couldn’t respect people who acted like Basil, aloof and standing in the corner like he was above talking to all the minions below. Chase decided that would be his biggest acting challenge—pretending he actually had a shred of anything but fear for Basil fucking Shrewsbury.

W
ELCOME
TO
a new season of
Burned
, where we find fresh new cooking talent… and a few culinary disasters! Every season we do something a little different, and this time it’s all about the sweet things in life. That’s right. We’re doing an entire season of desserts!

It’s our first
Burned
challenge! We welcome our final thirteen back to the
Burned
kitchens. Thirteen come in today, but only twelve can remain. The challenge this week is simple, classic: pie. No rules. No restrictions. But only one pie can reign supreme, and of course one will get burned.

Remember, our grand prize winner gets a year of pastry training in Paris, a whole kitchen’s worth of top-of-the-line commercial tools and appliances, and a hundred thousand dollars for his or her own business.

With stakes this big, we ask the one question on everyone’s mind: Do these chefs have what it takes to rise to the top? Or will they get
Burned
?

E
VERYTHING
UP
to that point had been purely theoretical. Sure, there had been screen tests and taste tests and challenges to test his nerve and skill. But now the cameras were about to start rolling, and things were about to get really fucking real.

Chase had been assigned a station on the left side of the studio and to Kai’s right, behind Big Al. Those two were going to be permanently in his line of sight. Big Al was always in
someone’s
line of sight—the looming giant was more like a teddy bear once you got to know him, though his size and beard were enough to intimidate anyone.

Chase really hoped he wouldn’t be one of the first out. He could handle a lot, but the humiliation of that might be too much to bear.

He remembered the day of the elimination round. That couldn’t happen again. Chase reminded himself to calm down and think rationally. There was nothing here he couldn’t do—not in the first few rounds, at least. And the judges had liked his ice cream, liked it a lot, so he knew there wasn’t anything to worry about as far as his cooking was concerned.

Basil, Nicolette, and Emilio were getting their final makeup touches done, and then someone shouted for quiet on set and Chase’s heart started beating a rapid tattoo against his chest.

“And rolling!”

They’d already done the introduction, and now they were going to get their first real challenge. Now it counted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the
Burned
kitchen,” Diego said. Chase forced himself to take another deep breath and to concentrate on what he was saying. Even then, most of it went over his head.
This is it.

“Your first challenge this week is….” Diego paused for dramatic effect. “Pie.”

Pie
, Chase thought, relief surging through him. Pie he could do.

Diego went on to explain they wanted a traditionally shaped pie, although the filling was up to them. The supply table would be open throughout, and they had sixty-five minutes in order to prepare, bake, and serve their pies.

Chase had almost tuned out, only paying attention to keywords. The supply area was dark and would only light up when Diego said the famous line: “Remember—don’t get
Burned
.” That was their cue to race for the table and start grabbing ingredients.