The Bake-Off by Beth Kendrick

accelerated, and she was digging her fingernails into the nape of her neck.
    â€œStop scratching,” Amy whispered.
    Linnie dropped her hand, but continued hyperventilating. “Staying in this hotel is absolutely imperative,” she told the clerk. “I need to be able to monitor the humidity and air temperature on the mezzanine levels at precise intervals over the next few days and nights. We’ve got perfect piecrust on the line here.”
    â€œHmm. Let me see what I can do. Give me just one second.” Michelle tapped at her keyboard. “Are you two together?”
    â€œNo,” Amy said, just as Linnie said, “Yes.”
    â€œWell, it appears that we do have one last vacancy, up in the South Tower. I’m really not supposed to put Delicious Duet registrants up there, but I suppose, if you don’t mind bunking in together—”
    â€œI mind,” Amy said.
    â€œIt’s a suite,” the clerk continued. “Normally goes for twenty-two hundred dollars a night.”
    â€œWe’ll take it,” Linnie said.
    â€œHold on a second,” Amy interrupted. She addressed the clerk. “Does this suite have two bedrooms?”
    â€œOnly one, I’m afraid. And one bed. But it’s king-size, with the special linen package we use for our luxury suites: featherbed mattress topper, eiderdown duvet, Egyptian cotton sheets, Belgian chocolates every night with turndown. . . .”
    â€œWe’ll take it,” Amy relented.
    â€œAnd if you prefer separate sleeping quarters, there is a large sofa in the sitting room,” the clerk said.
    â€œWorks for me.” Amy jerked her thumb toward Linnie. “She’ll be on the sofa.”
    â€œVery well. You’re all set.” Michelle handed Amy a small stack of paperwork. “You’ll want to use that elevator right over there. Just slip your room key into the slot above the elevator keypad to access the tower floors.”
    Amy gathered up two of her suitcases, left the rest for the bellhop, and led the way across the lobby. She assumed that Linnie was right behind her until she heard a muffled thump and a surprised “Oof!”
    She turned around to see Linnie struggling to disentangle herself from the long, slender straps of a gym bag carried by a tiny young woman with biceps that would make Madonna jealous.
    â€œOh gosh, I’m so sorry!” exclaimed the deep-dimpled petite powerhouse, who sported a sassy dark brown shag haircut, tightfitting workout gear, and diamond stud earrings. “I was gawking up at that huge chandelier, and I didn’t even see you. What a klutz! Here, let me help you.”
    â€œI’m fine.” Linnie pulled away with a frown, her tone positively glacial. Amy shot her a questioning glance.
    â€œHoly cow, are you okay?” A tall, lanky man with wire-rimmed glasses and a wide, earnest face appeared on the other side of Linnie.
    â€œIt’s my fault,” the woman told him, all the while trying to brush off Linnie’s coat. “I walked right into her.”
    â€œSugar plum, you have got to watch where you’re going,” the man said. Then he turned back to Linnie. “You sure you’re all right?”
    â€œI’m fine.” Linnie yanked at her coat lapel and backed away from the couple. Amy felt alternately outraged and embarrassed by her sister’s rudeness. Because Linnie had grown up so sheltered and isolated from her peers, the Bialek family overlooked a whole lot of what might tactfully be termed “eccentricity.” But there was no excuse for this kind of behavior.
    â€œShe’s fine.” Amy inserted herself between Linnie and the well-meaning couple. “She’s just had a very long flight.”
    â€œHey, are you guys here with the Delicious Duet competition?” the man asked.
    â€œYes, we are.” Amy extended her right hand. “I’m Amy Nichols and this is my sister,