Chapter 8: The Betrayal Behind the Bakery Door
Amara couldn't hear the audience anymore.
All she could see was Tasha standing beside Patrice in the security footage.
The woman had been more than an assistant.
Tasha had been there when Amara first opened her bakery.
She had helped paint the walls.
She had stayed late to wash mixing bowls.
She had cried when Amara received her first large wedding order.
Amara had even offered to help pay for Tasha's culinary certification.
And now she was watching the same woman hand over a flash drive containing her work.
Jordan stepped closer.
"Amara?""
She didn't respond.
He touched her shoulder.
"Do you want to sit down?""
"No.""
"You're shaking.""
Amara looked at her hands.
They were trembling.
She slowly curled them into fists.
"Get me my phone.""
Jordan handed it to her.
She opened her contacts and found Tasha's number.
She pressed call.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then someone answered.
"Hello?""
Tasha's voice.
Amara closed her eyes.
"Tasha.""
Silence.
Then a cautious response.
"Amara?""
"Where are you?""
"Why?""
"Because I need to ask you something.""
Tasha exhaled.
"Can we talk tomorrow?""
"No. We can talk now.""
A long pause followed.
Then Tasha said something that made Amara's stomach twist.
"Please don't make this harder than it already is.""
Amara looked at the frozen image on the screen.
"You gave Patrice my flash drive.""
Tasha didn't deny it.
"Amara, I can explain.""
"Then explain.""
"I needed money.""
Amara swallowed.
"How much?""
"That doesn't matter.""
"How much, Tasha?""
Another pause.
"Ten thousand dollars.""
Amara stared at the phone.
Ten thousand dollars.
That was more than she had made in several months.
"Patrice paid you ten thousand dollars to help steal my work?""
Tasha's voice became defensive.
"She said it was a business arrangement.""
"She said that to me, too.""
"Amara, you don't understand.""
"Then help me understand.""
Tasha started crying.
"She promised me a position at her company. She said I could become a production manager. She said I'd finally have a real future.""
Amara looked at Patrice.
The older woman was watching her carefully.
"And what did you promise her?""
Tasha went quiet.
"What did you promise her, Tasha?""
"I gave her the files.""
"Which files?""
"Your videos. Your recipes. Your design notes.""
Amara closed her eyes.
"All of them?""
"I thought they were only going to use the wedding cake.""
Amara's voice became colder.
"You thought taking my entire portfolio was part of the job?""
"I didn't know she was going to take everything.""
"But you knew she was taking something.""
Tasha began sobbing.
"Yes.""
Amara lowered the phone.
For a moment, she couldn't speak.
Then she asked the question she had been avoiding.
"Did you help Marcus get into my bakery?""
Silence.
"Tasha?""
"Yes.""
Amara felt something inside her break.
"You gave him the key?""
"I made a copy.""
"Why?""
"Because Patrice said she needed access to the storage cabinet.""
"You could have asked me.""
"You would have said no.""
"Exactly.""
Tasha cried harder.
"I'm sorry.""
Amara looked toward the chocolate sculpture.
Its red flowers seemed brighter beneath the ballroom lights.
"Did you ever think about what would happen to me?""
"I didn't mean for you to lose everything.""
"But I did.""
Tasha said nothing.
Amara ended the call.
She placed the phone on the table.
Jordan stood beside her.
"I'm sorry.""
Amara nodded.
Then she looked toward Denise.
"Can you preserve that call?""
Denise replied immediately.
"We'll document the time and request the relevant communications through the investigation process. Don't delete anything from your phone.""
Rochelle turned toward Patrice.
"Would you like to explain why your company paid a contestant's assistant to obtain another contestant's confidential files?""
Patrice's expression hardened.
"I don't know what you're talking about.""
Amara almost laughed.
"Really?""
Patrice looked at her.
"You should be careful about what you accuse people of.""
Amara stepped forward.
"Your security footage shows the envelope. Tasha just admitted she gave you my files. Marcus admitted you ordered him to remove my cake.""
Patrice lifted her chin.
"None of that establishes that I stole anything.""
Denise opened her document case again.
"Actually, the sponsor received a copy of the payment authorization this afternoon.""
Patrice froze.
Denise removed a printed bank transfer record.
"Ten thousand dollars was transferred from Williams Culinary Group to an account belonging to Tasha Green.""
Amara stared at the document.
Patrice's face turned pale.
"That payment was for consulting services.""
"What services?"" Rochelle asked.
"Business development.""
Denise pointed to the transaction date.
"October 28. The same evening your company accessed Amara's storage cabinet.""
Patrice looked toward Simone.
"Tell them.""
Simone blinked.
"Tell them what?""
"That this was your idea.""
Simone stepped backward.
"What?""
"You asked me to help you win.""
Simone shook her head.
"You said you had everything handled.""
"You said you couldn't stand watching Amara receive another award.""
"That's not what happened!""
Patrice pointed at her.
"You wanted her cake. You wanted her designs. You wanted her place on that stage.""
Simone's eyes filled with tears.
"Because you told me it was the only way!""
The ballroom fell silent.
Patrice looked stunned.
Simone turned toward Rochelle.
"I didn't make the transfer document. I didn't pay Tasha. I didn't arrange the storage access.""
Amara watched her.
"But you stood beside my cake and accepted the applause.""
Simone lowered her eyes.
"Yes.""
"You told people you made it.""
"Yes.""
"You watched me lose everything.""
Simone's lips trembled.
"Yes.""
Amara waited.
Then she asked:
"Why?""
Simone looked up.
For the first time, there was no smile on her face.
"Because I was tired of being second.""
Amara said nothing.
Simone continued.
"Every competition, you were the one people talked about. Every time we submitted our work, judges remembered your designs. Patrice kept telling me that I was more marketable, that I had the right personality, that I only needed one big win.""
She looked at the white cake.
"And then you made that cake.""
Amara's expression didn't change.
Simone's voice broke.
"I knew it was better than anything I could make.""
Patrice snapped.
"Enough!""
But Simone turned toward her.
"No. I'm done protecting you.""
Rochelle raised a hand.
"Simone, are you admitting that you knowingly presented Amara's work as your own?""
Simone looked at Amara.
Then she nodded.
"Yes.""
The audience erupted.
A photographer lowered his camera.
Someone near the back whispered, "She actually admitted it.""
Denise immediately addressed the event director.
"Please secure the original competition records and restrict access to the sponsor's judging materials. We will also need copies of all communications involving Ms. Williams and Ms. Carter.""
Patrice looked furious.
"You cannot destroy my career over one competition.""
Denise's voice remained steady.
"That decision is no longer yours to make.""
Amara stood motionless.
She had imagined this moment.
She had imagined Simone apologizing.
She had imagined Patrice being exposed.
But now that the truth was finally coming out, she felt strangely empty.
Jordan leaned toward her.
"You got what you wanted.""
Amara shook her head.
"No.""
He looked at her.
"What do you mean?""
"I wanted to compete.""
She looked at the chocolate tree.
"I wanted to stand here and let my work speak for itself.""
Jordan nodded.
"And you did.""
Amara looked at Simone.
"Not yet.""
Rochelle approached them.
"Amara, there's something I need to tell you.""
Amara turned.
"What is it?""
Rochelle lowered her voice.
"The sponsor has reviewed the preliminary competition footage. There's a reason they were so interested in your original design.""
Amara frowned.
"What reason?""
Rochelle glanced toward Denise.
Then she looked directly at Amara.
"Your wedding cake wasn't just selected for tonight's competition. It was being considered for a national exhibition partnership.""
Amara's breath caught.
"Nobody told me that.""
"Because the final decision hadn't been announced.""
Rochelle paused.
"But the sponsor's original recommendation named you as the designer.""
Amara stared at her.
"Me?""
"Yes.""
Rochelle looked toward Patrice.
"And someone changed the recommendation before the final submission.""
Denise opened her case and removed another document.
"This is the original sponsorship evaluation.""
Amara took it.
Her name appeared at the top.
Beneath it was a note written by the sponsor's creative director.
*RECOMMENDED FOR NATIONAL FEATURE — AMARA JOHNSON.*
Then Amara noticed a handwritten amendment in the margin.
A single sentence.
*Replace with Simone Carter. Original creator's participation unnecessary.*
Amara looked at Rochelle.
"Who wrote this?""
Rochelle examined the handwriting.
Her expression changed.
"That's not Patrice's handwriting.""
Denise turned the document over.
A signature appeared at the bottom.
And when Amara saw the name, her heart nearly stopped.
It belonged to someone who had been supporting her career for years.
May you like
Someone she had never suspected.
Someone whose name had opened the door to this entire competition.
