“No. It wasn’t your aunt, but it was someone you know very well.” Martin walked out on stage, closer to the audience. “You might be surprised to learn that the same person nominated both of you.”

Kelly and Andrew looked at each other.

He shrugged. It made no sense at all.

“Now, the two of you haven’t yet tried each other’s entries, is that right?”

“Correct,” Kelly said.

“Right,” said Andrew.

Georgie, the head judge, got up and carried a tray over to them. She came to Kelly first and gave her the piece from Andrew’s entry, which consisted of a sliver of cake and a macaron. Then she took the other plate to Andrew.

He recognized the cake immediately. She’d made their recipe too. A warm glow flowed through him, and this time it wasn’t the stage lights. Could it possibly mean she’s been thinking what I’ve been thinking all along?

“Go ahead, give them a taste.” Martin watched them both take a bite. “I bet you can see why we’re having such a tough time judging this final round.”

They exchanged another look.

“Kelly, what is the cake that you baked for us?”

“Triple-Layer Honey Almond Cake.” Her mouth pulled into a rigid smile, but he knew her real smile. That wasn’t it. His mood sank. She was mad.

“Andrew?”

He glanced over in Kelly’s direction. “The same. With a tower of macarons in passion fruit, almond, and strawberry with ‘yes’ on one side and ‘I do’ on the other.”

“She had a similar concept. With the chocolate conversation heart answers. I guess great minds think alike,” Martin said. “We’re going to take a quick commercial break, and we’ll be back.”

The cameras pulled back, and the commercial aired on the screens at the edge of the stage.

Martin walked over and spoke to them. “Filming in front of a live audience creates a lot of challenges as it is, but this is the first time we’ve had to punt on the rules.”

Kelly’s jaw pulsed as she turned to Andrew. “That’s my recipe.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

No longer sequestered, Kelly and Andrew were escorted off the stage into one of the green rooms, although it wasn’t green at all.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Kelly spun around on him. “Why would you use my recipe?”

“Wait a second,” he said. “That wasn’t your recipe. We worked on it for weeks and weeks together.”

“Excuse me, so then your Lobster Risotto is also my dish? I helped you with that, I seem to recall.”