UNEDITED
Three years after Sebastian and Paisley decided it was time to start their own lives, separate from the drama between their families, they're now settled down with a successful business and their daughter, Arielle. Although it's difficult...
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Sebastian
Our team's colour is hot-pink. I'm changing in the men's washroom. Looking in the mirror, I have to admit I'm impressed. I look good in pink. It complements my black hair and my tattoo. Gives me a Harry Styles vibe—minus the wavy brown locks and British accent.
I'm a fan.
What I'm not a fan of is our team name. The Twisted Churros. After years of watching culinary competitions, I knew to expect nothing of the team names. They're all ridiculous. Seriously, though, it makes us sound like a group of delinquents covered in cinnamon sugar.
Exiting the washroom, I head back into the kitchen.
Today is the first day of production. After we're dressed and have completed our introduction interviews, we get to meet the host and judges.
When I rejoin the group, Paisley is missing. "Where did Pais go?" I ask.
The three of them—Dani, Margaux, and Cadence—are hunched over the counter. They're focused on a piece of paper. Cadence has a pencil in her hand. She's sketching something.
When they glance at me, they look annoyed.
I cock an eyebrow. "Did I interrupt something?"
"You're asking that question when three women are hunched over a paper?" Margaux's voice is deadpan.
I roll my eyes. "Fine. Stupid question. Am I allowed to wonder where my wife is?"
Cadence nudges Margaux. "Cut the kid a break. He's in love."
Margaux rolls her eyes, then jerks her thumb over her shoulder. "Introduction interview. They're stupid, if you ask me. No one cares about where we're from or what we want to accomplish. They're watching to see our cakes."
"Right." How could I forget? Mine'll be next. Instead of searching the room for Paisley, I saunter over to the ladies and peer over Margaux's shoulder. They're sketching cake designs.
I try to focus on their designs. The more I try, the more I'm looking over my shoulder, wondering when Pais will return.
"How long are the interviews?" I murmur.
Dani chuckles. "Someone's nervous. I think it's cute how much you love her."
"My love doesn't compare to how much you miss Dane," I fire back.
Dani's cheeks turn pink. "Touché."
I flash her a sympathetic smile. Every morning, Dane texts me, asking how Dani is. Spending time apart is difficult. Which I can understand. My time in LA was painful.
When it was time for Dani to leave Montréal, Dane quit his job and moved to Vegas with her. He said he couldn't imagine living without her. Love makes us do crazy shit. Dane tells me he hates Vegas regularly. But he'll put up with it until Dani decides it's time to move back to Canada. Which may be sooner than she thought. I guess Dane caught her checking out homes in Kelowna.
