“You haven’t said anything, Michelle,” Alain Duquesne commented. “Are you going to let the other Miss Swensen do all the talking?”
Michelle laughed. “Hannah is my older sister. In the interest of family harmony, I usually don’t interrupt her.”
Chef Duquesne gave a loud laugh. For one brief moment, he lost his haughty manner and seemed like a person that Hannah might like. “I know exactly what you mean, Michelle. I was the same way with my older sister. She was a real . . .” he stopped himself and chuckled before he finished the sentence. “She was a real force, and there was no way I wanted to cross her.”
Michelle smiled at him. “I do understand . . . even though Hannah’s not that way at all. Usually.”
Alain Duquesne laughed again and then he turned to the other judges. “Please enter your scores on the Swensen sisters’ dessert.” Then he addressed Hannah and Michelle again. “Thank you, ladies. You may go back to your cooking stage now.”
“I think he was hitting on you!” Hannah whispered as she began to walk back to their stage.
“Not now,” Michelle whispered back. “Smile and look pleased. The camera’s still on us.”
Both Hannah and Michelle smiled pleasantly as they walked back the way they had come. Then the giant screen above their heads went to a commercial for a new cooking show that was debuting on the Food Channel, and Hannah sighed heavily. “How do you think we did?”
“Good. They all seemed to like it. Now all we have to do is pack up our things and go back to the greenroom until the other contestants have presented their desserts.”
“And then we come back for the reading of the scores,” Hannah said, her hands shaking slightly as she placed the bowl she’d brought from The Cookie Jar in a box.
“That’s right. We’re through, and I’m glad we were first. Now we get to relax for at least twenty minutes before the finale.”
Hannah felt like laughing, but she didn’t. Relax? her mind queried. How can I relax when everyone back home is counting on us to bring the rest of the competition back to Lake Eden?
“How do you think we did?”
“I think we did great! I doubt any other contestant will try to bake anything as tricky as a soufflé.”
“But mine isn’t tricky.”
“They know that now, but I think the judges were impressed. Chef Duquesne finished every bit of it, and Jeremy Zales only had one spoonful left. Come on, Hannah. Let’s get off our cooking stage and go to the greenroom, where there are no cameras. I never thought I’d say it, but I’m tired of being onstage.”
Chapter Eleven
Hannah leaned back in the comfortable chair, and motioned toward the monitor in the greenroom. “Brooke Jackman’s up now. Let’s see how she does.”
The two sisters watched as Brooke presented her strawberry mousse with marshmallow sauce, a rather odd combination to Hannah’s way of thinking. She could understand strawberry sauce, vanilla or white chocolate sauce, or even another fruit sauce that didn’t have a strong flavor, like kiwi, but she thought that a marshmallow sauce seemed a bit sweet and sticky to be served with a strawberry mousse.
One by one, the judges agreed that the mousse was excellent, but the sauce failed to complement the berry creation. Brooke left the judging table looking disappointed. But then, as soon as she realized that the camera was on her, she smiled. Hannah turned to Michelle.
“If Brooke comes in here, let’s tell her that we want to taste her mousse after the contest is over for the night. And let’s both tell her it’s just as delicious as it looks.”
“I’m in,” Michelle said. “Brooke is really nice and I like her. It’s a shame the judges weren’t more complimentary.”
“That’s true, but they are judges. Their job is to rate us and criticize us. All the same, let’s try to make Brooke feel better if we can.”
In a minute or two, Brooke opened the door to the greenroom and came in. From the expression on her face, it was clear she knew she hadn’t won the hometown challenge. “Hi, guys,” she said. “You looked good out there.”
“Thanks,” Hannah said. “So did you, Brooke.”
“I stunk.” Brooke gave a deep sigh as she sat down in one of the chairs. “They hated my mousse.”
“No, they didn’t,” Hannah contradicted her. “They liked the mousse. They just didn’t think the sauce complemented it enough.”
Brooke thought about it for a minute. “You’re right. I never should have asked anyone else for advice.”
“What do you mean?” Michelle asked her.
“I mean, I should have stuck to what I’d planned in the first place.”
Hannah’s eyes narrowed. She remembered seeing Brooke talking to Gloria earlier and suspected what might have happened. “Was the person who advised you Gloria Berkeley?”
“Yes. She tasted my sauces and she said I should use the marshmallow sauce instead of the strawberry.”