The Heavenly Baker Read Online Free Page A

road and has already pencilled in Little Angels Bakery as a possible filming destination for later in the competition, so don’t bomb it.’
    â€˜Why did you tell me that?’ I complain. ‘Now I feel ultra-pressured.’
    â€˜Well, it’s lucky I like you, isn’t it?’ he murmurs secretively. ‘We’ll just have to fix the competition.’
    â€˜No!’ I exclaim in mock-horror.
    â€˜Yes,’ he replies suitably theatrically, waving down a taxi. ‘You’ve got a wicked streak, missy.’
    â€˜I think I might have.’
    â€˜Hallelujah!’ whispers Bradley in my ear as he opens the door to the taxi and ushers me in.
    I think I’m going to be OK but then, as the taxi sets off, I start thinking about meeting the Heavenly Baker and all the things that could possibly go wrong.
    So many people, too many names, everyone saying “Hello”, and already I feel caught in the undertow. Does a drowning woman have any last requests?
    â€˜Hi, how do you do?’
    It is like Moses parting the Red Sea. A moment ago there were people everywhere and now all I can see is a pair of oceanic blue eyes and a killer smile. He is dressed in blue jeans, ripped at the knee, Timberland boots, and a black polo tee. His chin is covered with a day’s stubble, his hair freshly shaved.
    â€˜Hi,’ is all I can manage.
    His handshake is firm but friendly and there is definite warmth in the smile he offers me. I admire the outline of his biceps and the way his tee clings to him, not skin-tight but fitted enough.
    â€˜So you made it OK, then?’ says Matt Richards.
    â€˜I did, thank you.’
    â€˜And there weren’t any psychopaths waiting for you at the station?’
    I glance at Bradley, who shrugs. ‘I had to give that one up,’ he admits. ‘It’s comedy gold.’
    â€˜Well, mock away, then,’ I say.
    â€˜So, you’ve met everyone?’ asks Matt.
    â€˜I think so, but there’s been so many names that my head is spinning.’
    â€˜So my name is?’ He ribs me gently.
    â€˜It’s on the tip of my tongue,’ I say. Oh! My! God! I’m flirting with sex god Matt Richards and it’s just so easy!
    â€˜I asked for that,’ he admits.
    â€˜You did really.’
    â€˜So thank you for coming up at such short notice.’
    â€˜Is this the start of the interview?’ I ask.
    â€˜Don’t worry,’ he replies, smiling. ‘You passed that already. Anyone who phones to check whether Bradley is a serial killer has a guaranteed spot on any programme I’m producing.’
    â€˜You say that now,’ I murmur.
    A man is gesticulating at Matt.
    â€˜I have to go now before Henry has a complete heart attack but have a look around. Bradley is at your beck and call and we’ll catch up in a little while. OK?’
    â€˜Do I have to prepare anything? I feel like I should prepare something, you know, like people do on real interviews.’
    I can see Henry becoming more and more worked up but I can’t help myself. I am magnetically attracted to this man. Wherever he goes I feel compelled to follow. It’s probably not healthy but I’ll put it down to being in the Big City.
    â€˜Are you in the mood to bake?’
    â€˜I’m always in the mood to bake, but isn’t that true of everyone?’
    â€˜No,’ he says shaking his head.
    â€˜Oh?’
    â€˜I know. It’s really puzzling.’ He smiles and starts to walk in Henry’s direction. ‘Be ready in two minutes,’ he calls back.
    â€˜What am I getting ready for?’
    â€˜Welcome to television, country girl,’ declares Bradley with a wry shake of his head.
    â€˜What am I missing?’ I ask, the fog of confusion hanging heavy around me.
    â€˜This is live television, so no swearing, please,’ Bradley reminds me.
    I open my mouth to protest as the realisation dawns but Bradley is