Free The Bake-Off by Beth Kendrick

conditions.”
    â€œUm, I beg to differ.”
    â€œYou really don’t see that this is ridiculous? Come on. You can’t think your way out of this, Linnie. We’re going to have to jump in and get our hands dirty. And we’re going to make a lot of mistakes along the way, so we’d better get started.”
    â€œ You’re being ridiculous,” Linnie sputtered. “All the determination in the world doesn’t matter if we don’t attain the proper chemical ratios and reactions.”
    â€œIs that so? Tell you what: Let’s each make a batch, right here, right now.” Amy rocked back on her heels. “You can go crazy with your Bunsen burner and your Geiger counter and whatever, and I’ll be over here playing fast and loose with a measuring cup and a spatula. Whoever makes the better-tasting szarlotka gets to do it her way at the competition in New York. Grammy Syl can judge.”
    â€œNo deal,” Linnie said. “Grammy Syl favors you.”
    â€œShe does not.”
    â€œDoes, too!”
    â€œYou’re just afraid you’re going to get schooled by the culinary kamikaze.”
    â€œFine.” Linnie rolled up her sleeves. “You’re on. But the winner gets to name the recipe, and the loser has to wash all the dishes.”
    Amy cranked up her iPod. “Let’s rock and roll.”
    Â 
    â€œ W hat’s going on in here?” When Grammy Syl finally returned more than two hours later, the kitchen was in shambles, the oven was going full blast, and the two sisters hadn’t exchanged a single word.
    â€œWe’re having a pre-bake-off bake-off,” Amy said.
    â€œTo demonstrate that science beats sloppy technique,” Linnie added.
    Amy cleared her throat. “To demonstrate that the art of baking transcends a bunch of arbitrary rules and regulations.”
    Grammy Syl dropped a brown paper grocery sack onto a chair and raised her hands to her face. Linnie was shocked to realize that her grandmother was near tears. “But this is terrible,” Grammy cried. “You’re supposed to be working together! The whole point of the Delicious Duet Championship is teamwork.”
    â€œSorry, Grammy.” Amy shrugged. “Your Parent Trap ploy didn’t work. And PS, that was the longest grocery run in history. Did you go all the way to Asia and harvest the cinnamon yourself?”
    â€œDon’t cry, Grammy.” Linnie offered a tissue. “We’ll have lots of opportunities for teamwork in New York.”
    Grammy’s lips stopped trembling as she clamped them together in grim resignation. “I give up. You two are hopeless.”
    â€œDon’t say that until you taste my pie.” Amy glanced over her shoulder at Linnie as she pulled a tray out of the oven. “I’m totally going to win.”
    Amy’s words might have been cocky, but Linnie detected a trace of doubt in her voice. They both knew that Linnie always won—if she couldn’t win, she wouldn’t compete.
    When the pastries were baked, Amy and Linnie banished Grammy to the living room as they prepared to present the finished products.
    â€œThe judging has to be blind and impartial,” Linnie said. “Grammy can’t know whose is whose. So you use the plate with the silver rim, and I’ll use the one with the blue flowers.” She reached into the cabinet, but Amy hip-checked her out of the way.
    â€œI want the one with the blue flowers.” Amy grabbed the dish before Linnie could reach it. “Visual presentation matters.”
    â€œFine. You don’t have to be a bully about it.”
    Amy whirled around and stuck her index finger centimeters away from Linnie’s nose. “Let’s get one thing straight right now. I agreed to participate in this as a favor to Grammy, but you are not calling the shots here. You need to win so much? Then you play by my rules.”
    â€œCalm