She ran through that short walk no less than six times before he finally seemed satisfied.

“Now,” Drake said, “I need you to stand near the oven and look over your shoulder toward me.” He snapped off a few shots. “Very good. Pick up a bowl. Smiling, and now serious.” He glanced down at his camera. “Thanks. I think I’ve got all I need right now.”

He and Freddy left as quickly as they’d shown up.

She stood there feeling a little awkward, so she meandered back over to the pantry shelves and tried to memorize everything on each shelf.

Brenda showed up with a bottle of water. “Okay, there’s a shelf below the cabinet on the right side of the sink that’s out of view. You can put your water there between shoots. Never leave it on the counter.”

“Thank you,” Kelly said.

“If the green light over that door says LIVE, don’t mess with it or anything. That means that the camera is rolling. If it’s not illuminated, you have a minute to readjust, get a sip of water. If it’s flashing, get yourself ready because you’re going live.”

“Got it.”

“Each soundstage is completely soundproofed. Yours may go completely quiet until they cut to you. So don’t get freaked out. Just keep doing what you’re doing. If anything gets out of sync, you’ll see one of the production assistants signal to you from that spot right there.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t worry. It sounds like a lot to remember, but if you be yourself and bring your heart to the show…that’s how winners are made. I think you’re going to do great.” Brenda led her behind the fake frosted kitchen door. Really it was just a door inside the door where she’d make her entrance.

Kelly stood there in the shadows in her red chef’s jacket. The theme music for the show started playing, and Martin Schlipshel was introduced. She turned and gave Brenda a shaky thumbs up.

“Welcome to our Four Square Valentine’s Day Bake-Off! We’re so excited to bring this special edition of Four Square Cooking Show to you. Not only have we brought extra special pastry chefs in for this competition, but the prize is the largest we’ve ever awarded.”

Kelly sucked in a breath.

“The Best Pastry Chef will walk away with one hundred thousand dollars. And now we’ll introduce you to our four contestants.”

Her kitchen went eerily quiet.

She stood there, unsure of what to do. The light over the door glowed green. Brenda had explained that whenever that light was green, you were being filmed. No bra adjusting, scratching your nose or talking to yourself.

Of course, her nose itched.

Suddenly her light switched on, and she heard Martin’s voice come over the speaker.

“From Bailey’s Fork, North Carolina, Kelly McIntyre. Owner of The Cake Factory.”