“It’s going to be fine,” Sara reassured her. “Even ninety minutes is hard when it comes to cooling the cake long enough to do good work with the frosting and decoration. I bet they have all kinds of behind-the-scenes stuff going on. They’d have to, working under all those stage lights and everything.”

“True. I’ve got to be ready for anything.”

“You already are,” Sara said. “This competition was made for you.”

“I don’t want to get caught flat-footed. I studied pastry terms online last night so I’d know what they were talking about if they threw any of that high-falutin’ talk my way.”

“Hadn’t thought about that. They do that sometimes. Crème fraîche and all that.”

“Right. We make that stuff, but we never call it that. I don’t want to look silly.”

Sara put her hands on Kelly’s shoulders. “You won’t. Don’t try to be what you think they want you to be. Just be you. You’re deserving of this opportunity. The only person worried about your lack of formal training is you. I promise you that.”

“I hope you’re right,” Kelly said.

“You know desserts better than anyone, and you do sweet and savory all the time,” Sara said. “It’s why we have customers all over the nation. Something for everyone.”

“I can do this,” she said, trying to believe it.

“You’ve totally got this. Trust yourself. You know, you could sell these.”

“Good plan.” Kelly picked up a red marker and a bakery case card from the baker’s rack and wrote Cupid’s Red Hot Chocolate Cake. She lined up the other three cakes onto a narrow baking sheet and carried them out to the front case.

Kelly opened the case and slid the tray into place, then slipped the sign into the shiny metal clip.

“Those are beautiful.” Mrs. Thompson, the town librarian, peered over her hot pink readers.

“Thank you. It’s a brand-new recipe.” Kelly caught the grin on Sara’s face. “Thought I’d test out some new ones for the holiday.”

“Add one of those to my order,” Mrs. Thompson said. “And four forks. They’re simply gorgeous. If they’re even half as good as they look, they’ll be to die for.”

Kelly boxed up the cake, and then there were two.

They waved to Mrs. Thompson as she left.

“I thought I’d given you a challenge, but you handled that like nothing,” Sara said. “I’d better up the difficulty on those orders I wrote up.”

“Pickles. Sushi. Dirt!” Kelly rolled her eyes. “Okay, not dirt, but you know what I mean. Maybe edible flowers. And don’t go easy. I mean crazy stuff. You’ve seen the show.”