It was here.

For days, all I could think about was making it to the final round and in less than an hour, it was about to become my reality. There was no turning back now. We have our passes, we signed the papers, we went through the debriefing, it was official. All that was left was getting mentally prepared for either total victory, or extreme loss.

I didn't want to think about the latter being an option, but naturally, that's all I could think about. As much as I tried to stay positive, for some reason I couldn't stay there long. Maybe it was because I was borderline sleep deprived and my nerves were on edge. With everything that has happened in the past twenty-four hours, it was amazing that I was even still standing. Gage knew this too. He tried to distract me from all of this earlier when he took me to see the rest of the competition. And although I will admit the barbecue section was phenomenal, especially the Memphis barbecue, it couldn't erase my nerves completely.

I have told Gage over and over that we will win this and everything will be fine, but that was before I was staring at the finish line. Now, with it being in reach, I started to lose my grip on my confidence. Because now, it finally hit me that losing it all was a very real possibility. And not just the money. I wasn't ready to risk it. I wasn't ready to risk Gage. I could try and pretend that this was just another competition, but it wasn't.

This wasn't a competition for money. This was a competition for Gage's life.

Not to mention if we fail Violet will become—I didn't even want to think about it. I honestly didn't want to think about any of it, but how could I not? I could spend the entire day with Gage, smiling and having a good time when all I could think about was the possibility of failure. My mind was cruel and pretended like we had already lost. It began to travel down a dark path, wondering about all sorts of horrid things. How many more times I could hold Gage's hand? When will be the last time I could kiss him in the morning? How would it feel sleeping in an empty bed every night? What would I do if I could no longer feel him anymore?

He had a whole life ahead of him, but what if that doesn't happen? What if he isn't able to do the things he wanted? What if the items on his list were all for nothing? What if he . . . never becomes a father?

I tried to push away such negative thoughts, but they soon become real questions. It all boiled down to this: Could I survive the consequences of failing all of this?

I looked up to see Gage slipping on his shoes near the doorway. There was nothing special about this little action, but he doesn't have to be doing anything special for me to be entranced by him. Because I am, in every single way, entranced by this man. And to even think that stolen moments such as these could be taken away permanently . . .

That's why I stopped feeling guilty for wanting to defeat the other competitors. I may not know their reason for joining this competition, but I could guarantee that it was not nearly as serious as my reasoning. Even if we don't win first place, anything would be better than nothing. As long as there was some way to help Gage.

Losing was not an option for me.

"Shortcake?" Gage's voice snapped me out of my stormy thoughts and I looked up to see him eyeing me with concern. "Everything okay?"

And just like that, the sun came out from behind the clouds. All it took was the sound of his low, soothing voice. I knew then that I had my answer to my previous question: I really can't do this without him. But I've always known that.

"Yes," I got up from the bed to wrap my arms around his tall frame. "Everything is fine."

This will not be one of the last times I am able to hold him. This I swear.

Moments later when we were both ready we went back downstairs and I felt a sense of déjà vu. It wasn't that long ago today we were doing this exact same thing for the preliminary round. I briefly wondered what we will be like next time we ride the elevator.

As we walked towards the room I couldn't help but notice the sound of soft music coming from the ballroom we would be in soon. It didn't sound like it was something recorded, but like it was . . . live. Was there a concert going on for all of this?

"What are they doing there?" Gage asked eyeing the hoard of people inside the ballroom. I looked at them too noting that thankfully none of them was a particular pair I was avoiding like the plague.

"They said at the debriefing that the finals are going to be open to the public."

"So they are going to be watching us bake the whole time?"

"I guess so. Oh, and speaking of, it's a televised event. But I think you already knew that."

"So even more people will be watching," Gage scoffed. "No pressure."

"I think it's neat. Maybe Lamar and the twins and Violet could watch us."

"Yeah . . . or Jason," he groaned.

I shook my head at him. I don't think I will ever understand their complex relationship. As much as they fight, I knew that they really care about each other. They have such a unique bond with being twisted in this debt together. That had to count for something.

For some reason, I was so caught up in trying to figure Jason and Gage out like a giant puzzle piece that I wasn't watching paying attention to where I was going. Right when I was coming around a corner I ran right someone who smelled a lot like cigarettes. Once I gained my composure back, I looked up at the man and said, "Oh, my goodness! I wasn't paying attention, I'm so—" But my apology died on my lips as soon as I saw who it was.

The older man flashed a coy, yellow smile that sent shivers down my spine.

"Hello, Alexandria."

My eyes widened. " . . . Finch."

He eyed me a moment longer before adjusting the gloves on his hands. "I've been trying to look for yo—"

But before he could finish his sentence, Gage had him pinned against the wall. Despite the fact that Finch was much taller, Gage clearly had the upper hand. I appeared to be the one more surprised by this than Finch who only frowned.

"Is this really necessary?" his thick accent held a bored tone.

"What are you doing here?" Gage demanded.

"It's none of your concern."

"Like hell it is! I'm sick of you assholes messing with Katy."

"I am not here to mess with her."

"Then I'll ask again, what are you doing here?"

Finch's dark eyes lazily drifted to mine before he let out a sigh. "This is really more troublesome than he said it was going to be."

"Who? Malcolm?"

His eyes snapped back to Gage's and for once I saw real emotion: anger. "You have no right to refer to him by that name! He is Mr. Devenue to vermin like you."

"Actually he is 'piece-of-shit' to me, but it's all the same."

Finch's face turned red. "You bastard."

"Enough!" I jumped in before this could go any more south. Not that I could prevent much, or really wanted to, but there were people nearby eyeing us in concern. "Stop it, you two! We are in the middle of the hall."

"I don't give a damn," Gage growled, his glare never left Finch's.

"Well, I do. Let him go, Gage. This is not the time."

"Not until he tells me why he's here."

"I need my airways in order to do that, mate," Finch glanced down at where Gage had his forearm pressed firmly against his throat.

For a moment I thought Gage didn't get the message until ever so slowly he let go. He definitely didn't look pleased about it though. When his throat was free, Finch rubbed it with a wicked grin on his face. "Still have spunk, I see."

"Answers. Now."

Finch gave a humorless chuckle before turning to me. "Your father wanted me to tell you to make cherry turnovers tonight."

I couldn't hold back my confusion. "What?"

"One of the judges has a sweet spot for them apparently," he pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. "He said that if you want to have a shot at winning, go for the cherry turnovers."

I eyed him warily for a moment before, "Why is he telling me this?"

"Why do you think?" he slipped a cigarette between his lips. A woman walking by gawked at him before scurrying off. "Because he loves you."

Without missing a beat Gage busted out laughing to which Finch glared at him. When he calmed down some he looked at the older man and said, "You've got to be shitting me."

"I am not shitting you. He is a loyal father and a good man."

"Loyal father? Good man? How much is he paying you?"

Before Finch could explode on Gage I jumped in once more to say, "Thank you!"

Both men dropped their death glare to look at me in surprise at the same time. "What?" Gage especially looked upset. But I kept my eyes trained on Finch.

"Tell my father I said thank you," his yellow smile twisted up, "however," then dropped, "you can also tell him that his efforts were for nothing. As I have already told my mother, I have no interest in winning in a way that is unfair. You can tell my father the same thing, since it seems he does not want to tell me himself."

Not that I really wanted to see him, but still I wanted to point out one of my father's many flaws. If he could assume the worst about me, so could I.

Next to a very flustered Finch, Gage was beaming at me. I sent him a gentle smile letting him know that we were going to be okay.

"Now if you will excuse us, we have somewhere to be," I nodded towards Finch before turning on my heels to leave. The only regret I have about this was that I couldn't see his reaction. I imagined it was still very shocked, though. A few seconds later Gage was right beside me with a satisfied look on his face. It told me all I needed to know.

+ + +

When we arrived at the room, it was pretty quiet besides the woman who called out our group names when assigning us places in line. I briefly wondered if it was this awkward at the Olympics when you had to share the locker room with all of your competitors. There was no point in trying to be friendly with each other, we all came here with one thing in mind. Well, maybe not everyone. I'm fairly certain this one group came just for the heck of it. Must be nice.

"Alright, is everyone in their correct order?" the woman asked. We all gave varying answers that could be summed up in a "Yes." She gave a nod of approval before looking down at her clipboard. "We have about ten more minutes until we head inside the ballroom. Remember, don't get overwhelmed by the crowd or the camera crew you will see walking around. Just bake like you normally would. If you run into an issue, let one of the volunteers know. Does anyone have any questions before we go?" When nobody said anything she moved along informing us of the small details such as exits and bathrooms.

I tried to pay attention, but my mind was still whirling from what happened a few minutes ago. It was upsetting no matter how you looked at it, but if I was being honest with myself, what really upset me the most was the fact that for a split second I almost considered his advice. I wanted nothing more than to for Gage to continue living, and the key to that being possible may lay in this competition. But at the same time, I don't want to win because of my father. He will have even more power over me if that happens. Still, I couldn't deny that the temptation was there. If there was a guaranteed way to win, I would want to go for it. But I knew it wasn't right. I sincerely hoped that we could still do this without my father's influence.

"Alright everyone it's time to start!" the woman announced excitedly. "Please make sure you are in your correct spot so that they can announce your group properly. Remember everything I said earlier! Good luck!"

After giving us a thumbs up she opened the door, and a wave of anxiety came crashing over me. I don't know why it decided to show up now after everything that has happened, but it did. Apparently, I wasn't good at hiding it either because when I felt Gage tug on my hand a little I looked up to see his concerned expression.

"You okay, Shortcake?" he whispered.

I gave him my most sincere smile. "I will be."

He looked at me a moment longer before bending down to press his lips against my forehead. "We will get through this. Even if . . . this doesn't work. We will get through this."

I noted that "this" could mean multiple things, some good some bad. Mostly bad. But ultimately, I just wanted to find a happy ending in any of them.

Before we walked out, another volunteer went around handing us aprons which Gage accepted with a groan. It wasn't as bad as the last one. It was solid white and read "Katy Cakes" in thick, cursive letters with a small cupcake underneath. Still, he didn't put it on until the last minute when we left.

Again I could hear the sound of music pouring out from the ballroom. I was fairly certain that it was a band playing a cover of Lionel Richie's "All Night Long", which I wasn't sure how appropriate that was, but it was quickly masked by the thunderous noise of the crowd's cheering.

"Damn," Gage mumbled next to me. "They are almost as bad as the crowd at the matches."

I wanted to ask him more about what it was like, but I figured this wouldn't be the time. That and they were about to announce our name.

"And for the next group who won the judges over with their southern peach cobbler, The Cooling Rack!" I recognized Bo's voice from inside the room.

The pair in front of us walked inside with massive smiles on their face as the crowd cheered wildly and cameras flashed. It was absolutely incredible and nerve-wracking just watching them. When Gage and I stepped up to be announced, my heart pounded roughly in my chest, from excitement or nerves I wasn't sure. But I didn't have time to figure it out.

"Next up we have a dynamic duo that really has a skill for making molten lava cakes, please help us welcome, Katy Cakes!"

I'm not sure if Gage was smiling, but I definitely was as we walked in. And not just because the cameras were on us. Although I'm fairly certain my parents were probably in the room watching with sneers on their faces and I felt completely on edge, I soaked in the moment as we walked towards our station. For that one short moment, everything was okay and I could allow myself to mentally check off an item from my list I made with Gage a while back: feel like a celebrity.

When we arrived at our station I noticed a few changes from the last ballroom, besides the crowd, such as the multiple tables lined throughout the room that had different bakery names on them. I found ours near the middle between Dough Knot and Disco Danish. Before I could debate on what they were for, an area near the corner of the ballroom caught my attention and held it.

It looked like a make-shift kitchen filled with products and tools I assumed we could use. I remembered at the debriefing the lady announced that the finals would be a themed contest, so maybe that meant no more mystery ingredients. The kitchen was all for us. That seemed promising. The station was the only thing that was really kept the same. It was still small, but it would suffice.

"We actually made it," Gage said next to me as he looked around the room in amazement. "You got us here, Shortcake."

"We both did," I sent him a smile. "Team Kage all the way."

At that, he smiled back. "You have to admit we make a pretty odd team."

"Then so be it."

Before he could say anything else, the music started to die down signaling what we were all anxiously waiting for. It was officially time.

"Welcome back, everyone!" a familiar, cheerful voice rang throughout the crowd.

Both Gage and I looked up at the stage to see Bo dressed in another eccentric tailored suit that went along with his bold glasses. Although he was flashy and interesting to look at, my eyes immediately went to the people sitting behind him. I did even see them come in. They must be the judges, which meant one of them had a soft spot for cherry turnovers. I don't know why I felt so guilty for knowing this. But before I could dwell on it any further, Bo brought my attention back.

"So, so, glad to be back and see all of your wonderful smiling faces," he continued on. "I hope you have all enjoyed the Orlando Cook-Off competition so far. I checked out the grilling section earlier and I have to say, I'm surprised I could even fit in this suit tonight," he patted his flat stomach. Next to me Gage scoffed. "Anyway, just to recap a few things, this is the final round for the baking section so congrats to you all," Bo paused when the crowd started cheering. "It's pretty amazing, I agree. Moving on, out of the ten groups we have today, only three will go home with a prize. However, there will be honorable mentions on our website so don't forget to check that out before you leave tomorrow. Now, moving along I have some important announcements for you all. As you may already know, this round will be different from the one earlier because you not only have to impress the judges behind me," Called it, "but the members of the crowd as well. Just like with the other food sections today, you will be making samples for everyone in this room. This is going to be a little more challenging since you not only have to make sure your product tastes good, but also that you have enough for everyone."

"Damn," Gage mumbled. "With this tiny space?"

"We can make it work."

I hoped.

While Bo was introducing all of the judges and giving a speech about all of their successes I was trying to think of different desserts to make that would be quick and easy yet taste good. On top of that, it had to really impress the judges and fit the theme they have yet to announce. This did not help my anxiety. And when I looked around the room I could see the other contestants didn't look at ease either.

"Alright, thank you to all our wonderful judges with us tonight! Another round of applause for them!" the room was filled with the sound of hands clapping for a few seconds. "Okay, moving right along now, as you might have guessed, the area in the corner is for the contestants to use. Anything there is fair game. Even if you don't see something you need, please tell a volunteer and they will find something for you. Likewise, if you run out, let them know and they will restock it. With all that being said, let's get to what I am sure you are all interested hearing: the competition's theme."

Finally. I was ready and not ready to hear this all at the same time. Sort of like the seconds leading up to a teacher passing out an important test.

"Although the round will not have mystery ingredients for you to bake with, you will still be on a time limit and will still have to get creative," Bo adjusted his glasses. "Your dessert must fit the theme that I am about to announce. If the judges