“And let me guess, you won?”

“I did,” Miguel said, with a wink.

He told her about the coconut pie that had been on regular rotation in his house growing up, and how he had adapted it for the contest. When he was done, Cass smiled, caught up in family baking memories herself—and an idea taking shape. She could adapt one of Woodburn’s most beloved recipes and easily salvage the on-set disaster she was dealing with. “I have to run. But you’ve actually really inspired me, Miguel. You’ve given me the perfect idea. Thank you so much.” She waved goodbye and rushed off down the hall.

• • •

“Charlie!” Cass was almost out the door of the network’s building, but hadn’t been able to walk fast enough, evidently. Those high heels weren’t doing her feet any favors. Even back in her canvas sneakers, her feet were achy and tired. She turned at the now-familiar voice.

“Hi, Sasha. Sorry. I meant to check in before I left, but I have an appointment I need to get to.” An appointment with my bed, that is. Plus, she had to get a hold of Charlie. It wasn’t just about needing recipe guidance—at this point she was getting worried about her sister, and the bakery. Priya had said Charlie hadn’t been responding to any of her texts, either. What was going on?

“Have you not been getting my texts?” Sasha asked. She wasn’t even out of breath, despite the fact that she had been practically running to catch up to Cass.

“Oh, sorry. My phone has been, uh, glitchy.” Cass could only assume Charlie’s phone was now filled with texts from Sasha, too. And yet, she still hadn’t responded.

“So, do you have it?” Sasha asked.

“Have what?”

“That bread mask you promised me! You said you’d bring it today, and time is running out for my pre-gala beautification plan.”

Cass slapped her hand against her forehead. “Sasha, I’m sorry. I’ve had so much on my mind. I totally spaced on this.”

Sasha was frowning. “What’s going on, Charlie? Frankly, today wasn’t the best. Arriving looking like something the cat dragged in, clearly not doing your homework, and then taking Austin’s recipe to try and cover your ass . . . Not your best look. You did manage to save the day with that great recipe for sticky toffee date square pudding. But it was too close for comfort. Not what I expect from my star chef who is looking to host her own show. Got it?”

Cass felt indignant. Was this how her sister was treated every day? But she had no idea what to say to Sasha. She needed to talk to Charlie. There had to be a way to make Sasha see Austin for who he really was, rather than him blaming everything on her. “I’m just a bit tired,” she said, hating how lame that sounded.

“Is it the concussion? Austin said he thought you were acting a bit off, and I have to say I’m beginning to agree with him.”